The Belgians to the Front Part 13

There was only a small force of Belgian troops in Huy, as Paul and Arthur soon learned. And, to their dismay, they found that the officer in charge refused absolutely to listen to them! He was a pompous, greatly excited little man, most of whose service had been in the Congo, and he laughed at the suggestion that they could have information of value.

"But if you will send a wireless message to Liege Major du Chaillu will tell you that our information is correct," pleaded Paul. "At least he will tell you that we gave valuable news before, and that we can be trusted."

"There are other things for the wireless to do in times like these,"

said the officer pompously. "Be off with you, now. I have no time to waste on boys!"

"No wonder the Germans can win!" said Paul, bitterly. "What chance has an army with an officer so stupid as that?"

He had given up the attempt to convince the commandant, for it was obvious that they would only waste time and breath if they persisted.

"But what are we to do?" asked Arthur. "We must let them know in some way."

"We must go to Brussels," said Paul. "There are those there who will know that we can be trusted, and we may find a way of getting a wireless message through to Major du Chaillu."

But, as they soon found, it was one thing to decide to go to the capital, and quite another to accomplish their desire. The railway was choked by military movements. Troops and supplies of all sorts had usurped every means of travel, except by walking. Though Huy itself might appear to be normal, no other part of the country was, as it was easy to discover when an attempt was made to do even the most ordinary things.

"Well, if we can't ride, we can start walking," said Paul. "If we wait here we'll never get anywhere, that's sure. There's more confusion here than there was at Liege, and a lot less reason. The thing to do is to get away before they close the town up absolutely, so that we can't even do that."

But even that resolution could not be carried out without difficulties.

For some reason--they learned later that it was because new troops were advancing from that direction--they were not allowed to pa.s.s along the road leading to Namur, which was the logical one for them to take in an effort to reach Brussels. Their plan had been to pa.s.s through Gembloux and Wavre, after turning around Namur. They were obliged, instead, to start back toward Liege, turning north after a few miles and heading for the railroad at Saint Trond.

"If we get that far I think we'll have a chance to get on a train,"

said Paul. "From all I hear, there will be troops there, covering Brussels."

"Covering Brussels? But it's nowhere near the city!" exclaimed Arthur in great amazement.

"That doesn't matter, Arthur. Brussels will be defended at long range or not at all. If the Germans get past Tirlemont and Haelen they will get to Brussels, I think, without any more opposition."

"But why? There are no fortifications there."

"I believe there are--by this time," said Paul. "Earthworks, at least.

You see, it would simply mean terrible destruction and suffering if a city like Brussels were defended. It has no forts, and it would be a simple matter for the Germans to stand off and bombard it. It is like that with Louvain. It would be better to let the Germans capture that town without resistance than to force them to bombard it and destroy the famous old buildings there. If a great city cannot be defended by an army fifty miles away, it is better not to defend it at all."

The idea of such a tame yielding of Brussels, where he had been born and had lived most of his life, seemed to depress Arthur greatly. For a long time they went along in silence. Then a peasant came along with a cart and offered them a ride. This man seemed to know little or nothing of the war, although, like them, he must have been able to hear the sullen growling of the cannon from Liege, that showed the fortress was still holding out. They rode for several miles with this man, until he had to turn off. Then they began walking again. And now, before them, directly in their path but still some considerable distance away, they saw smoke rising on the horizon, a pall heavy, brownish smoke with patches of black. It was not at all like the faint haze that hung over Liege, the result of smokeless powder.

"There must be a fire," said Arthur.

"I should think so," said Paul, grimly. "The Uhlans are ahead of us, Arthur."

CHAPTER XIII

THE CIVIC GUARDS

That this was no mistaken guess they soon learned. Half a mile of fast walking brought them to a small village, and there they met a stream of panic-stricken refugees, fleeing from their own burning homes a little further on. The people of the village swarmed about the newcomers, exclaiming in horror and anger at their stories. Paul and Arthur listened.

German cavalry, it seemed, had ridden in early that morning, and posted notices, in German, French and the Walloon dialect that many of the peasantry still used. These notices warned all the people that the German army had occupied the town or village, and that no act of violence against the invaders must be committed. All arms, it read, were to be surrendered, and certain rules about keeping lights in every window and having all doors unlocked must be strictly obeyed.

If obedience were given, said the Germans, no harm would be done to the occupied places or any of their citizens.

"Then they rode away," a woman was saying. "And presently foot soldiers came in their places. And--a shot was fired. It struck an officer. Then they went into the house where the man who fired the shot had been, and they brought out every man they found in it, and killed them right before all of us, before they set the house on fire.

And they set other houses on fire, too, where they said they found guns and pistols! They said we were murderers! Is it murder to defend oneself in time of war? My man is with the army! Is he a murderer?"

Arthur was panting with anger as he listened. Paul, seeing this, drew him aside.

"I suppose you think she's right, don't you, Arthur?" he asked, quietly.

"Of course! If you were in your home and you saw German soldiers coming, wouldn't you shoot as many as you could?"

"Perhaps. But I'd expect them to take me out and shoot me, when they caught me, and burn my house. I wouldn't call them brutes and barbarians for doing it."

"But why? Isn't it war to attack the enemy?"

"Yes, if soldiers do it. Soldiers ought to fight soldiers. If women and men who aren't in uniform fight, they must expect to be attacked themselves. Listen, Arthur! If our soldiers were in Germany they'd have to do just what the Germans are doing here, to protect themselves.

They'd have to frighten the people into playing fair, if it couldn't be done any other way. It isn't fair to hide and shoot a man who isn't expecting it, is it? At any rate, those are the laws of war. France and Belgium have agreed to them, and bound themselves by them, just as the Germans have done. So we can't complain if the Germans stick to the rules. Don't do anything foolish now. The Germans may be here any minute, if they're as close to us as these people say."

"I'll do whatever you say, Paul," Arthur agreed, finally. "But it doesn't seem sensible to me."

"It is sensible and right, believe me," said Paul, earnestly. "And I think we'll stay here, Arthur, for a little while, anyway. I believe there'll be a chance for us to do some good work here. If we can keep these poor people from acting so that the Germans will destroy their village it will be a good thing, won't it?"

"Ye--es, I suppose so. Yes, I can see that, Paul. Even if I think it's all wrong, I can see that the Germans are too strong. They can do whatever they like, whether it's right or not."

"That's one way to look at it," said Paul. "That's one of the things I hope to try to make them understand--that they'd better submit to injustice than lose their homes. Might makes right, though the Germans have a good excuse for acting in the way they do."

"Still I don't see what good we can expect to do, Paul. These people here don't know us, and I don't believe they'll pay any attention to anything we say," deep doubt written on his face.

"I think perhaps they will, Arthur. You see, we're in uniform and I'm hoping that they don't know anything about the Boy Scouts here. They may think our uniform means that we're connected with the army in some fashion, and respect it."

"I didn't think of that! I say, that would be rather good fun, wouldn't it?"

"Look!" said Paul, suddenly. "That's just what I was afraid of!"

A dozen men, in ill a.s.sorted and badly fitting uniforms, were coming from the inn that was the dominating feature, aside from the inevitable parish church, of the village.

"They belong to the civic guard," said Paul. "I'm afraid they are going to try to resist the Germans. Look at those guns!"

"They're the old-fashioned ones they used in the army years ago, aren't they, Paul?"

"Yes, and they'd be about as much good against the new German rifles as so many pea-shooters!"

The sight of the patchwork uniforms, worn by armed men, seemed to be a magnet for the panic-stricken inhabitants of the village. So far the people had been far too busy with their fears and their eagerness to save themselves to pay any attention to the two scouts, and so Paul and Arthur were able to attach themselves to the crowd and follow the civic guardsmen without exciting too much attention. There were curious glances at their uniforms, but Paul was well pleased by this. He wanted the people to notice their khaki suits, and he was glad that they seemed to be rather mystified.

The leader of the guardsmen was a big, burly man, by trade a butcher.

Under his direction his men and a host of volunteer helpers proceeded to erect a barricade across the road by which, it seemed, the Germans must enter the village if they came. Old furniture, broken down wagons, mattresses--anything that came to hand was used in building the barricade. Then it was covered in front with branches of trees and bushes.

"There!" said the big butcher, when it was done to his satisfaction.