Fighting in France Part 20

They crouched low to the ground as they ran, endeavoring to present as small a mark as possible. Little spurts of dust all around them showed that the Germans were firing at them from above. The demonstration by the French inside the chateau was increased in intensity and one reckless man even ran halfway up the stairs to the landing before he threw his hand-grenade. Having hurled it, he sped down again, slipping, sliding and falling. However he was unhurt.

In spite of all these efforts the fire directed at the two messengers did not cease. So far, however, they were untouched and were only fifty or sixty feet distant from their goal. Suddenly the man carrying the barrel staggered. He reeled drunkenly for a moment and then sank to the ground. His companion, who was in the lead, was not aware of this and it was not until he had gained the protection of the chateau that he realized that his comrade was missing.

Of course the machine-gun was useless with one part gone. Someone would have to retrieve the other half and Armande instantly took it upon himself to be that one. Without waiting to see whether anyone else was going he dashed out of the doorway and raced towards the spot where the lost barrel lay. His appearance was greeted with a storm of bullets from the tower.

Untouched, however, he reached his goal. The barrel was lying on the ground beside the prostrate form of the soldier who had carried it that far; the soldier was dead, however, with a bullet through his heart.

Armande bent over and seizing the missing part of the gun he turned and ran for the chateau. All about him the bullets whined and sang; it seemed impossible that he should ever cover those few yards alive. The evening before, however, he had remarked to Jacques that having seen the new moon over his right shoulder he would be lucky. Whether or not that was the reason the fact remains that he gained the doorway and handed the barrel over to Jacques. His uniform had been torn on one shoulder and blood was oozing from the wound, which although deep, was not serious.

"Your life is charmed, Armande," exclaimed Lippen in admiration.

"I hope so," said Armande grimly. "Set up the gun."

No time was lost in this operation, and in less than two minutes the machine-gun was ready for action. The man who had carried the tripod had also brought the necessary ammunition.

"Train it on one spot," Lippen directed. "As soon as we get a hole through the floor we'll send a few hand-grenades through it."

Careful aim was taken and a moment later the gun was spitting an almost continuous stream of bullets into a s.p.a.ce about a yard square on the ceiling. The plaster began to fly and some candelabra came to the floor with a crash. The noise of the machine-gun was almost ear-splitting inside the chateau but the men were all delighted at the promise of early results.

Jacques fed the long strips of bullets to the hungry gun, while all except his helper stood around in different parts of the room, their rifles held ready for instant use. All eyes were fixed upon the spot on the ceiling.

Suddenly a ray of light shone through from above. The air was filled with smoke and dust from the crumbling plaster.

[Ill.u.s.tration: The air was filled with smoke and dust from the crumbling plaster.]

"Keep it up!" shouted Armande.

The bullets were spraying all around the edge of the hole which grew rapidly larger. Several of the men opened fire with their rifles. The machine-gun then ceased firing.

"You can see where the beams run now," said Jacques to the gunner.

"Loosen them up a little."

Once more the withering fire was continued and soon a yawning hole appeared above the heads of the Frenchmen. A table came crashing through; a chair followed close behind and a huge lamp next spun through the air and smashed into a thousand pieces on the floor below.

It must not be supposed, however, that the Germans in the tower were idle all this time. Bullets went through the opening in both directions and already two of the Frenchmen had been killed; two more were wounded. The fight was desperate.

All at once a hand-grenade, dropped from above, landed squarely in front of the spot where Jacques was stationed. It was not four feet distant from the young Frenchman. Almost without thinking he acted.

Springing forward he seized the deadly missile and hurled it at the ever-spreading opening in the ceiling. He had not been a second too soon. Just as the grenade was pa.s.sing through the hole it exploded.

CHAPTER XVI

THE DUG-OUT

Jacques immediately sprang back to his former position in the alcove beside the machine-gun. Lucky it was for him that he did so. The hand-grenade exploded and the ceiling which already was greatly weakened speedily collapsed.

Plaster, furniture, rafters and men poured down in a ma.s.s. The force of the explosion had literally torn the ceiling to pieces and, the supports gone, it collapsed at once.

"Anyone left up there?" shouted Armande.

"Not a soul," replied Jacques quickly. "Watch out below though."

Many of the Germans were buried deep under the ma.s.s of debris on the floor. Here and there an arm appeared and the French were busily engaged in extricating their enemies from the heap. Seven men were taken out alive, suffering only from bruises; four more were captured badly wounded and six were found dead.

"Well I guess the fight's over," sighed Armande when the Germans had been deprived of their weapons and the pile had been thoroughly searched for any more bodies.

"Seems to be," agreed Jacques. "How about these men?" he asked, as he spoke, indicating the prisoners that had been taken.

"We'll take them back to our trenches of course," said Armande.

A few moments later the little band had left the ruined chateau and were on their way back to their lines. The struggle was still continuing violently and both sides were fighting desperately for possession of the disputed positions.

Arriving in the trenches Armande, Jacques, Lippen and the others soon found their regiment and having turned over their prisoners were quickly in the fighting again. Leon, Earl and Dubois were posted side by side and Armande and Jacques joined them at once.

"We thought you were dead, Jacques," cried Leon, delighted to see his comrade once more. "Where did you come from?"

The story was quickly told and just as it was completed the officer who had directed Jacques to set off the mine-field approached the place in which the boys were standing.

"Young man!" he exclaimed heartily, catching sight of Jacques, "you did splendid work. You saved our lines and made possible this counter-attack. You disappeared though and I feared you had been lost."

"I saw our men coming forward and I could not resist the temptation to join them, sir," said Jacques modestly.

"Well, I'm glad to see you again," said the officer. "We need men like you."

"They're all as good if not better," exclaimed Jacques earnestly.

"That's right too," agreed the officer. "Every Frenchman is a hero in these days of trouble."

He pa.s.sed on and Jacques turned again to his comrades.

"Tell me," he exclaimed, "what has happened here?"

"Everything," said Earl grimly. "They certainly did pepper us and it was only a few minutes before you came back that they let up at all."

"They're still fairly busy I should say," remarked Jacques.

The sh.e.l.ls were bursting all around in endless succession but fortunately the fire of the German batteries was directed mostly upon the positions to the right and left of those occupied by the _douzieme_.

"They'll hit us before long," remarked Dubois.

"What do you mean?" asked Earl. "A counter-attack?"

"I think so. They may not try it to-day but they surely will some time to-night; the Boches are getting so they like to fight in the dark now."

"Perhaps it's because they can't see the bayonets so well," laughed Armande. "They don't care much about cold steel, do they?"