The Girl from Alsace Part 26

The men grinned their thanks, and were soon puffing away with evident enjoyment. But to Stewart the single cigar he had kept for himself seemed strangely savorless. He glanced at his companion. She was sitting hunched up, her arms about her knees, staring thoughtfully at the fire.

"This man says we must wait here until their officer arrives," he explained in English. "My brother does not understand German," he added to the men.

"How stupid!" said the girl. "I am so tired and stiff!"

"It is no use to argue with them, I suppose?"

"No. They will refuse to decide anything for themselves. They rely wholly upon their officers."

She rose wearily, stretched herself, stamped her foot as if it were asleep, and then sat down again and closed her eyes. She looked very young and fragile, and was shivering from head to foot.

"My brother is not strong," said Stewart to the attentive group. "I fear all this hardship and exposure will be more than he can bear."

One of the men, with a gesture of sympathy, rose, unrolled his blanket, and spread it on the bank behind the fire.

"Let the young man lie down there," he said.

"Oh, thank you!" cried Stewart. "Come, Tommy," he added, touching the girl on the arm. "Suppose you lie down till the officer comes."

She opened her eyes, saw the blanket, nodded sleepily, and, still shivering, followed Stewart to it, lay down, permitted him to roll her in it, and apparently dropped off to sleep on the instant. Stewart returned to the circle about the fire, nodding his satisfaction. They all smiled, as men do who have performed a kind action.

But Stewart, though doing his best to keep a placid countenance, was far from easy in his mind. One thing was certain--they must escape before the officer arrived. He, no doubt, would be able both to read and speak English, and the pa.s.sport would betray them at once. For without question, a warning had been flashed from headquarters to every patrol to arrest the holder of that pa.s.sport, and to send him and his companion, under close guard, back to Herbesthal. But how to escape!

Stewart glanced carefully about him, cursing the carelessness that had brought them into this trap, the imbecility which had held them staring at this outpost, instead of taking instantly to the woods, as they should have done. They deserved to be captured! Nevertheless----

The sentry was pacing slowly back and forth at the tunnel entrance, fifteen yards away; the other men were lolling about the fire, half-asleep. It would be possible, doubtless, to bolt into the darkness before they could grab their rifles, so there was only the sentry to fear, and the danger from him would not be very great. But it would be necessary to keep to the track for some distance, because, where it dropped into the tunnel, its sides were precipices impossible to scale in the darkness. The danger, then, lay in the fact that the men might have time to s.n.a.t.c.h up their rifles and empty them along the track before the fugitives would be able to leave it. But it was a danger which must be faced--there was no other way. Once in the woods, they would be safe.

Stewart, musing over the situation with eyes half-closed, recalled dim memories of daring escapes from Indians and outlaws, described in detail in the blood-and-thunder reading of his youth. There was always one ruse which never failed--just as the pursuers were about to fire, the fugitive would fling himself flat on his face, and the bullets would fly harmlessly over him; then he would spring to his feet and go safely on his way. Stewart smiled to remember how religiously he had believed in that stratagem, and how he had determined to practice it, if ever need arose! He had never contemplated the possibility of having to flee from a squad of men armed with magazine rifles, capable of firing twenty-five shots a minute!

Then he shook these thoughts away; there was no time to be lost. He must warn his companion, for they must make the dash at the same instant. He glanced toward where she lay in the shadow of the cliff, and saw that she was turning restlessly from side to side, as though fevered. With real anxiety, he hastened to her, knelt beside her, and placed his hand gently on her forehead. At the touch, she opened her eyes and stared dazedly up at him.

"Ask for some water," she said, weakly; and then, in the same tone, "we must flee at the moment they salute their officer."

Stewart turned to the soldiers, who were listening with inquiring faces.

"My brother is feverish," he explained. "He asks for a drink of water."

One of the men was instantly on his feet, uns.c.r.e.w.i.n.g his canteen and holding it to the eager lips while Stewart supported his comrade's head.

She drank eagerly and then dropped back with a sigh of satisfaction, and closed her eyes.

"He will go to sleep now," said Stewart. "Thank you," and he himself took a drink from the proffered flask.

He was surprised to find how cool and fresh the water tasted, and when he looked at the flask more closely, he saw that it was made like a Thermos bottle, with outer and inner sh.e.l.ls. He handed it back to its owner with a nod of admiration.

"That is very clever," he said. "Everything seems to have been thought of."

"Yes, everything," agreed the other. "No army Is equipped like ours. I am told that the French are in rags."

"I don't know," said Stewart, cautiously, "I have never seen them."

"And their army is not organized; we shall be in Paris before they can mobilize. It will be 1870 over again. The war will be ended in two or three months. It has been promised us that we shall be home again for Christmas without fail."

"I hope you will," Stewart agreed; and there was a moment's silence.

"How much longer shall we have to wait?" he asked, at last.

"Our officer should be here at any moment."

"It is absolutely necessary that we wait for him?"

"Yes, absolutely."

"We are very hungry," Stewart explained.

The soldier pondered for a moment, and then rose to his feet.

"I think I can give you food," he said. "It is permitted to give food, is it not?" he asked his comrades; and when they nodded, he opened his knapsack and took out a package of hard, square biscuits and a thick roll of sausage. He cut the sausage into generous slices, while Stewart watched with watering mouth, placed a slice on each of the biscuits, and pa.s.sed them over.

"Splendid!" cried Stewart. "I don't know how to thank you. But at least I can pay you," and he dove into his pocket and produced a ten-mark piece--his last. The soldier shook his head. "It is for the whole squad," added Stewart, persuasively. "You will be needing tobacco some day, and this will come in handy!"

The soldier smiled, took the little coin, and placed it carefully in his pocket.

"You are right about the tobacco," he said. "I thank you."

He sat down again before the fire, while Stewart hastened to his companion and dropped to his knees beside her.

"See what I've got!" he cried. "Food!"

She opened her eyes, struggled to a sitting posture, and held out an eager hand. A moment later, they were both munching the sausage and biscuits as though they had never tasted anything so delicious--as, indeed, they never had!

"Oh, how good that was!" she said, when the last crumb was swallowed, and she waved her thanks to the watching group about the fire.

"Remember," she added, in a lower tone, as she sank back upon her elbow, "the instant----"

She stopped, staring toward the tunnel, one hand grasping the blanket.

Stewart, following her look, saw the sentry stiffen, turn on his heel, and hold his rifle rigidly in front of him, as a tall figure, clad in a long gray coat and carrying an electric torch, stepped out of the darkness of the tunnel. At the same instant, the men about the fire sprang to their feet.

"Now!" cried the girl, and threw back the blanket.

In an instant, hand in hand, they had glided into the darkness.

CHAPTER XI

THE NIGHT ATTACK