The Dispatch Riders Part 2

"Don't be in such a violent hurry, old man. Stick to our original programme and go to Liege, if you will. It may be necessary for us to look after your sister, you know."

"I don't think so; I firmly believe that Belgium will be left out of the business. This scare will be over in a few days. The pen is mightier than the sword, you know, so Germany will respect her plighted word to preserve the neutrality of both Holland and Belgium."

It was nearly noon on Monday morning when the lads wended their way to the motor-repairer's. Outside the burgomaster's house a huge crowd had gathered. The chief magistrate was making ready to read a doc.u.ment.

It was a copy of the momentous ultimatum from the bully of Europe to one of the smallest of her neighbours: a peremptory demand that the Belgian Government should allow the legions of the Kaiser to pa.s.s through Belgium in order to attack the least-defended frontier of France, and threatening to make war upon the little buffer State should she refuse.

A dead silence greeted the burgomaster's announcement. The news, though not unexpected, was astounding.

Again he spoke:

"Fellow-townsmen! I can a.s.sure you that the spirit of independence lives amongst us. We will resist to the death this outrageous demand.

Nor are we without powerful friends. Listen to the words of an appeal of our heroic Sovereign to the King of England: 'Remembering the numerous proofs of your Majesty's friendship and that of your predecessors, and the friendly att.i.tude of England in 1870, and the proof of friendship you have just given us again, I make a supreme appeal to the diplomatic intervention of your Majesty's Government to safeguard the integrity of Belgium."

"And what is the reply of the King of England?" shouted a voice.

"If it has been received it has not up to the present been communicated to me," replied the chief magistrate pompously. "Rest a.s.sured that I, your burgomaster, will not be tardy in keeping the worthy burgesses fully posted with the latest news from the capital. If any of you still have faith in German promises, let me inform you it is definitely established that the German troops have already invaded the independent Grand Duchy of Luxemburg."

The burgomaster withdrew, leaving the townsfolk to shout "Down with Germany!" "Long live England!" and cheer madly for their young king, who was yet to display proof of his personal courage.

"It's getting serious," admitted Kenneth as the chums resumed their way. "I don't mind owning I was wrong in my opinion of German honesty.

If they don't draw the line at Luxemburg they evidently won't at Belgium. Rollo, my boy, it's a mortal cert that Great Britain will be sc.r.a.pping with Germany in less than a week."

CHAPTER III

Major Resimont

"I vote we get off this main road with its wretched _pave_," exclaimed Rollo prior to resuming their ride on the following day. "There's a road shown on the map which ought to be a jolly sight better. At any rate we'll miss most of the heavy traffic."

"Right-o," a.s.sented Kenneth; "anything so long as we can have a speed-burst. I'm tired of crawling along at ten miles an hour."

The road, which turned out to be little better than a cart-track, led a considerable distance from the left bank of the Meuse, and with the exception of an occasional farm wagon laden with hay, very little traffic was met with.

At the end of an hour's steady riding, the lads found themselves at the junction of two forked roads, where, contrary to the usual custom, there was no signpost to indicate the direction. On either side was a steep bank.

"Now, which way?" asked Rollo. "Neither of the roads looks particularly inviting."

"It's one of the sunken roads of Belgium, I suppose," said Kenneth.

"We'll climb up this bank. Perhaps we shall be able to see where we are. It will be awkward for our bikes if a motor-car comes tearing along."

The incline was nearly fifteen feet in height and fairly steep. When the lads reached the summit they found, to their surprise, that they were on a slightly undulating gra.s.s field liberally guarded with barbed wire. About four hundred yards off was a rounded hillock. Even as the two looked they saw a huge cylindrical turret, from which projected the muzzle of a large gun, rise from the ground. For a few seconds the giant weapon moved horizontally and vertically, as if seeking a target, then as swiftly as it had appeared it disappeared into the ground.

"I say, we've stumbled across one of the frontier forts," exclaimed Kenneth. "Let's go a bit closer and have a look. I'd like to find out how they work."

"Thanks, I'm not having any," objected Rollo. "There's too much barbed wire knocking about. Besides, there are our bikes."

"We needn't wriggle under the wire, this road on our right evidently leads to the fort. We'll get a bit closer; but hold on a minute, we'll see if that gun pops up again."

They waited for at least five minutes, but without the expected result.

As they turned to retrace their steps, they were confronted by a tall Belgian soldier wearing the blue uniform of the artillery.

"C'est defendu: marchez!" he ordered sternly.

"All right, monsieur," replied Kenneth. "We've lost our way. Which is the Liege road?"

"You are foreigners," exclaimed the soldier, bringing his bayonet to the "ready".

"Yes, English."

"You must come with me."

"We have motor-bicycles."

"No matter. They will be attended to. Forward!"

Realizing the uselessness of attempting to argue the point the lads obeyed, the soldier following three paces in the rear with his rifle and bayonet at the slope.

After covering a distance of about a hundred yards between the edge of the barbed-wire entanglements and the dip formed by the sunken road, the arrested lads found themselves in the presence of a corporal and a file of men.

"You must be taken before the major. I am sorry, but these are my orders," declared the corporal civilly, after ascertaining that the two chums were English. "No doubt you will be permitted to go with but little delay."

"Will our motor-bicycles be all right?" asked Rollo anxiously. "We left them a little way down the lane."

"I will send a man to look after them," was the reply. "We must take you into Fort Loncine, and you must be blindfolded. These are my orders whenever we find strangers in the vicinity of the defences."

"Very well," replied Kenneth with as good a grace as he could command, at the same time producing his handkerchief.

Guided by soldiers, the two blindfolded youths were led into the fort.

Kenneth kept count of the number of paces before crossing the drawbridge; they totalled four hundred and eighty-five, which, allowing thirty inches for his long stride, meant that the glacis, or level gra.s.sy ground surrounding the fort, was a little over four hundred yards in breadth.

When the handkerchiefs were removed from their eyes the lads found themselves in a large vaulted room lighted by electricity. On three sides were several low-arched doorways, on the fourth a fairly broad gateway through which they had been brought. Although it was impossible to see straight into the open air, a distant glimpse of diffused daylight showed that this entrance communicated either with the glacis or else an enclosed portion of the fort that was exposed to the rays of the sun.

Seated on benches or lolling against the walls were quite a hundred soldiers, yet the place was by no means crowded. Beyond looking with evident curiosity at the two lads under arrest, they took no further interest in them.

Presently a sergeant approached and questioned the guards concerning their prisoners.

"English? Perhaps they are sent ... but, no; they are but youths.

Bring them along. I will inform Major Resimont."

The sergeant knocked at one of the doors, and in reply to a m.u.f.fled "Entrez!" he pa.s.sed through. The lads noticed that the door was of steel, and required considerable effort on the part of the non-commissioned officer to open it.

"Englishmen found in the vicinity of the fort, mon major," announced the sergeant, saluting and standing stiffly at attention.

"Let them enter. Ah, my young friends, this, then, is the manner in which you come to Liege?"

The two chums could well express astonishment, for their questioner was none other than the officer who in Namur had advised them to abandon their proposed visit to the Birmingham of Belgium.