The Belgians to the Front Part 9

"Wake up, Arthur!" he said, turning to his chum.

He had to shake Arthur before he could arouse him.

"It isn't time to get up yet--it's still dark, Paul," protested Arthur, sleepily. But then he began to recover his wits, and he dragged himself up, and went with Paul to the window. For a few moments they were quiet, listening.

"Perhaps they're not coming--perhaps it's all a false alarm. I don't hear any guns."

"Look!" said Paul, gripping him suddenly by the shoulder. He pointed to the road. Against the sky stood a horse, on its back a silent rider with a spiked helmet, in his hand a long lance. A German Uhlan!

CHAPTER IX

WAR

"They've come, then!" said Paul. "That means war. Look at his uniform--I never saw a German soldier looking like that before."

It was true. The uniform seemed to melt into the landscape; it was indeterminate, greenish gray in color. Even the spike of the helmet did not catch the rays of the sinking sun; it was covered with the dull, neutral colored cloth.

"I hope he isn't going to stay there," said Arthur. Their voices had sunk to whispers. Though there was no chance that the vidette would hear them, his very presence had the effect of quieting them. There was a tremendous difference, somehow, between thinking of an invasion, between realizing that it was inevitable that German troops should pour into Belgium, and the actual sight of one of the enemy.

"I don't think he will," said Paul. "He's just scouting, I think.

Probably he will ride back soon. And they can't be very near--the main body, that is. If they were we'd hear something of them."

Then before Arthur could answer, something happened. The air trembled, and a dull sound, echoing again and again, came to them. The two scouts stared at one another; then they turned, together, to look at the Uhlan, and saw that he had heard it, too, and was listening sharply. The light was full on his face, and they could see that it wore an awed expression. And well it might! They had heard the sound of the first heavy gun that was fired in anger in the war of the nations!

"That gun was some distance away. I should think it might have been fired at Fleron," said Paul. "The siege must have begun."

And now the air was full of sound. First from one side, then from the other, batteries and forts joined in the chorus. All around them, it seemed, the great voices of the guns were speaking. Soon individual explosions ceased to stand out; everything was merged into a heavy, dull roar that beat against their ears and filled the air with a continuous tremor. Sometimes the roar rose in volume when a new battery came into action. For a few minutes Paul and Arthur were absorbed. They listened, spellbound, to the roar of the guns. There was something unreal about it. It did not seem possible that those guns were being fired to kill and destroy, for, as they looked out, everything was peaceful still. Save when their eyes fell upon the Uhlan, mounted on his horse. He sat in his saddle, stiff, erect, the very type of the vast army of which he was a tiny, undistinguishable part--as a rule. Now he was that army, for the two who watched him.

Still they stared while the shadows advanced, eating into the light s.p.a.ces that remained, until grey dusk settled over everything, and he seemed to slip into it, and become a part of the landscape. Then his horse moved; he turned, and cantered slowly out of sight.

His going somehow seemed to break a spell.

"Come! We must see what's going on back there," said Paul. "We can see the battery, you know, if those crosses really mean that a battery was to be located on the spot we had placed from the map."

They went to the other side of the little garage and looked out. And, to the east, on a piece of rising ground, that would have been hidden had the de Frenard house still stood, as it had stood before the fire, they saw something that looked like a picture of an inferno.

There was a great gash in the woods, where trees had been cut down ruthlessly. Against the background of the woods that had been spared, a lurid glare threw everything into relief. Great arc lights had been strung, so that a s.p.a.ce of ground was as bright as day, and in the light hundreds of men were working. In one place a great furnace was blazing, and the ruddy glow from that cast a crimson light against the cold, white radiance of the electric lamps. Steam cranes were at work; huge cannon were being moved into place on the pedestals that had been prepared for them in advance.

"We were right!" said Paul, exultingly. "That is to be a great battery. They must be very powerful guns, too, or else they would have been ready with the rest, and in action by this time. Ah! I'm glad I thought of the telephone!"

"How fast they are working!" said Arthur. That was what caught his eye in the strange, weird scene. There was no confusion, despite the extraordinary efforts that were obviously being made to hasten the work. Every man, as they could see, even at that distance, knew exactly what he was to do. It seemed that the whole operation must have been planned far in advance, even rehea.r.s.ed. Such perfect team work could not be the result of chance, nor even of unusually good discipline. No, somewhere in Germany just such scenes must have been enacted in time of peace, that when the grim, harsh test of real war came there might be no delay, no lost motions, no trifling, unforeseen hitch to render useless all the elaborate plan that had been made.

This might be war, but it was a grim, cold business, too.

"It's like going to see the steel works at Seraing at night," said Paul. "Except that there's less glare from the blast furnaces, of course."

"A good many of those men aren't in uniform," said Arthur, his keen eyes taking in details as he grew more accustomed to the strange and awe inspiring grandeur of the scene as a whole.

"They're probably workmen from Essen," said Paul. He had a pair of binoculars out now, and was looking closely at every detail of the scene.

"But why should they be there? This is a time for soldiers."

"Not altogether, Arthur. I know--don't you remember what Uncle Henri told us?--that a lot of the workmen from Seraing would have to be along with some of the new field artillery pieces, because the secrets of some things are kept even from the soldiers. Those are probably some of the men from the Krupp works, brought here just to handle these big guns."

"Well, they take their chances, just like soldiers, if they do that, don't they?"

"Of course. They really are soldiers, just as much as the others, but they have special work to do, that they're trained for. That's the only difference."

"What are we going to do now?"

"We're going to try to spoil the little surprise these Germans are preparing for Boncelles and Embourg," said Paul, gritting his teeth.

"You stay here by this window, Arthur. I'm going down to telephone to Boncelles. If anyone comes near, tell me at once. It's awfully important, you know, to keep them from finding out about our telephone wire just as long as we can. And listen, in case I call to you. I'll want a quick answer, if I do."

"All right, Paul."

Down Paul went, then, to the gasoline pit. Lying at full length, he drew the telephone instrument from the cunningly devised hiding place he and Arthur had arranged for it. He was fearful for a moment; there was a chance, and more than a chance, that the German scouts might have found and cut the wire; they would certainly have tried to cut every telephone and telegraph wire in the neighborhood, as the first and most obvious precaution. But after a brief delay he was delighted to hear an answering voice.

Quickly he explained who he was, and found that his call had been expected. In a moment an artillery officer, who said he was Lieutenant Delaunay, was speaking.

"What information have you?" he asked, quickly. "I have your maps here before me."

"Find the one that shows the Ourthe and the ground before Boncelles and Embourg," said Paul.

"Right!"

"Mark the house of M. de Frenard, destroyed last night by fire."

"I have it!"

"Good! To the east of the house the ground slopes upward. It is well sheltered from observation by the fort. Your searchlights would be blocked by the woods between the fort and the house. But there is a spot marked on the map by a group of crosses. Do you see it?"

"Right! We decided that would be a battery. The other forts report that they have been fired on from points marked on the maps that you supplied, and that by concentrating their fire on the points indicated on these maps they have silenced a number of field guns."

"I am glad," said Paul, quietly. "I was sure that the information would prove to be valuable. Well, then, this battery is not of field guns. That is why you have heard no firing from it as yet. They are working now, by electric light, and are placing heavy guns--not the very heaviest, I should say, but far heavier pieces than would usually be at the front so soon--probably seven inch mortars."

"Seven inch mortars! That sounds almost incredible!"

"None the less, it is true. You may open fire at once on the spots marked on your map, and do great damage. We are in a position here to tell you whether your sh.e.l.ls land properly or not--we can see the battery from here. Will you fire?"

"At once!" said Delaunay. "Go and watch for the sh.e.l.ls--then report to us, if you can, whether they were properly aimed. You will be of the greatest service to us if you can do that. It is of the last importance that that battery should not come into action against us--these forts were not intended, when they were built, to withstand the battery of such heavy guns as that!"

Thrilled by the knowledge that the risks he and Arthur had run the previous night had not been in vain, Paul went upstairs and rejoined Arthur. To the east, where the frantic efforts of the Germans to get their heavy artillery into position for the opening attack were still continued, there was no apparent change in the situation.

"No one has come near," said Arthur. "Was the wire working? What did they say at Boncelles?"

Paul told him, and they settled down to wait It was nervous work, tense and anxious. Two of the guns--they counted six of them, in all--were already in position, and finishing touches were being put to them.

"Oh, why don't they hurry?" complained Arthur. "The Germans are not going to wait for them to be ready to fire."