With Joffre at Verdun Part 9

"Not a sound; no one has followed--that is good," giggled the Belgian, for he was an amiable little fellow. "One has to be careful in these day, messieurs; for there are spies throughout Belgium, and they know well that there are people, like myself, patriots, my friends, who carry on this traffic. But none have seen us, and therefore we are not likely to be disturbed. Now, on, messieurs, and have no fear, for there are no holes and gullies into which you can tumble, while, seeing that it has been dry weather, there is no water in the sewer."

Feeling their way by stretching out their hands, and stumbling along in the darkness, Henri following immediately after the Belgian, then Jules, and last of all Stuart, the party traversed a long stretch of the sewer, their fingers every second or so touching the brick walls on either side, while occasionally their feet splashed through puddles.

Then the narrow path they trod swung to the left, and for a moment a breath of cold air blew in upon them, and, glancing overhead, Henri caught just a fleeting glimpse of stars far above, and of the iron bars of a grid stretching between him and the sky.

"Now to the left, messieurs, and we descend. Listen, we are nearly under the Dutch frontier, and overhead stretch those highly-charged electric wires which have been erected by the Germans, and on which many a poor fellow has been electrocuted. But even fear of electrocution cannot keep the brave sons of Belgium from endeavouring to leave this invaded country, and from joining those Belgian troops now fighting with the French and the British. No, I who lead you now have led hundreds of young fellows by this path or a similar one, and have taken them to safety. Now on, messieurs; in a little while we shall ascend to the surface."

It was perhaps a quarter of an hour later that Henri felt that the path under his feet was ascending, and presently, having in the meanwhile been half stifled, he began to appreciate the fact that fresh air was reaching him, and that he could breathe more easily. A warning cry from the man who led them now brought him to a halt, and five minutes later the whole party had clambered up the rungs of a ladder and had gained the Open.

"Messieurs," said the Belgian, "beyond there, straight ahead, you will find a town with friendly Dutchmen in it, who will feed you and clothe you and send you to your people. Adieu! You will fight all the better for these adventures, and all the more fiercely for having seen what poor Belgium is like under the Germans. Adieu! And good luck go with you."

Shaking hands with their deliverer, and thanking him most cordially, Henri and Jules and Stuart saw him depart down the ladder, and then turned their faces from unhappy Belgium into Holland. For, indeed, they were now beyond the frontier, and, looking back, could see the barbed-wire fence which separated Holland and Belgium, erected to keep patriotic sons of the invaded country from escaping German control and joining the Belgian forces under King Albert. Yes, they could see the light shot from a small moon, which had now risen, shining on the wires, shining on that lower one which was charged with an electric current.

"Nasty thing to get up against, that," said Stuart, the big, hefty Stuart, shuddering in spite of himself. "I expect many a poor devil has been killed by that method. And what a method! Just the sort of thing a German would do. Now isn't it a mean, underhand way of killing people? But never mind, here are three of us who mean to get even with them; and in the meanwhile what about getting forward? What about something to eat? What about something to smoke? What about joining people who ain't afraid of smiling, who've pot a friendly feeling for British and French, and don't give a rap for the Germans?"

The warmest of welcomes indeed waited the three in that Dutch town which they were approaching, and despite the late hour of their arrival they were immediately accommodated in one of the houses, were given an opportunity of bathing, and were provided with suitable clothing and with a meal the like of which they had not seen for many a long day.

"And now," said Henri on the following morning, when they a.s.sembled in the _salon_ of the house to which they had been invited, "and now, Stuart, what happens? Naturally enough, Jules and I make for France by the quickest route, and then join the army."

"Which looks to me as though you're suggesting that I'm going to do something quite different," growled Stuart, looking impressively big in the Dutch clothes which had been provided for him. "Just as naturally enough as you two are going to join the French army, I am off to join the British--Kitchener's, you know--to take a hand in the job of smashing the Kaiser."

"Then we shall part," said Jules, not without a sigh of regret. "We have had fine times together--eh, Stuart? And, looking back upon it, even Ruhleben doesn't seem so bad. In any case, it was worth it to have gone through such a long adventure as we have had together. But I wish we could continue in one another's company. I wish somehow you, too, could join the French army, or that our regiments in the French and British armies might be set to fight side by side in Flanders."

"The next thing is how are we going to return?" said Henri. "I have said that we shall take the quickest route, and I am not quite sure that that won't be via London--eh, Stuart? What do you think? Coastal services from Holland towards France, I expect, are disorganized, and no longer possible."

That this was so, their host immediately informed them.

"You may take it from me," he said, "that it is no longer easy, and in fact almost impossible, to obtain a steamer running between the Hook and Havre as formerly, and indeed of late it has been a matter of considerable difficulty to get a pa.s.sage from Holland even to England; for the German submarines infest these waters, and, careless whether the boat belong to a neutral or to one of the combatants, utterly indifferent to the fact that many of them are filled with women and children and people who have nothing to do with the fighting, indeed forgetful of all instincts of humanity, of all mercy, and of all the usual customs and feelings which have in the past controlled the actions of belligerents, are torpedoing vessels at sight without warning, killing the crews and pa.s.sengers, murdering both French and British and Belgians, as well as Dutchmen and people of other nationalities. Mon Dieu! they are beasts these Germans. They are cowardly bullies. That Kaiser will surely rue the day that he ever commenced this war, and will most certainly regret the frightfulness which he has taught his subjects to show to the people of all nations."

"And so there is a difficulty about getting a boat to England--eh?"

said Henri, a little concerned. "But surely it should be possible.

Perhaps some English boat would take us; for I can hardly believe that they have been scared from the water."

"Scared! Ha ha!" laughed the Dutchman. "No, no! The picture I have painted is perhaps a little over-coloured. Though the menace of the German submarines has been extreme, and though they have murdered numerous individuals, and have sunk a number of vessels, yet they have not gone scot-free themselves; understand that, messieurs. German submarines have been trapped, have been sunk, have suffered themselves to such an extent that it is said that there are scarcely crews left to man them; only, just now, there is a recrudescence of the peril. There are more of these boats about, and consequently there is more difficulty in crossing to England."

Yet the impatience of Henri, Jules, and Stuart to rejoin their own people was so great that no amount of danger could thwart them. A visit to their respective consuls provided them with funds for the journey, and the following morning they were on the sea and steaming for England.

"'Pon my word, I can hardly believe it's true," chortled Stuart, now clothed in different raiment, and looking indeed a very fine and st.u.r.dy, if not respectably-dressed, member of the British nation.

"It's too good to be true; and I am sure I shall wake up to-night imagining that I am still on board that train, or in the lodgings that Belgian patriot provided us with, and in any case being chased by Germans. Germans! Just you wait till I get a turn at 'em."

No wonder that Henri grinned at his huge companion; it delighted him to hear the st.u.r.dy remarks of this gallant fellow, just as it delighted Stuart to look down from his greater height at the dapper, spruce, active, and now well-clad figures of his two most dashing French comrades. Spruce, indeed, Henri looked, his little moustache lending a certain amount of distinction to his face, his head held well on his shoulders, his cigarette between his lips, and the most jaunty air about him. There was a far-away look, however, in Henri's eyes, for he was thinking of France--thinking of her as she was now, and as she had been when he last saw his native country.

"Mon Dieu! What a change! What desperate changes!" he was saying to himself. "Every man able to bear arms, and of a suitable age, a soldier; every one of them living the life followed by our ancestors--those cave-men--dwelling in trenches throughout the months, fighting like tigers to beat down the Germans. Well, it will be good to join them, good to wear a uniform and line up shoulder to shoulder with our fellows."

"Yes, good," Jules admitted--for Henri's last remark had been uttered aloud--his face flushing at the thought. "What'll they do with us, Henri? Send us to some instruction-camp, do you think, and keep us there fooling about, training, drilling, doing things that I hate--that we all hate?"

"Poof! Not they. You seem to forget, Jules, that you and I have done our training; and, although we may not be very skilful soldiers, we can both of us shoot, know our drill sufficiently well, and if put to it can dig with the best of them. No, I'm hopeful that we shall jump out of these clothes into uniform, and shall almost as promptly jump into the trenches and find ourselves engaged in fighting the enemy."

It was with real regret that the two Frenchmen parted with their English companion on arrival in London.

"Of course, we'll all of us make the same sort of promises," laughed Stuart, as he gripped their hands at parting. "We'll swear to look one another up, to meet again shortly, and possibly, if we are rash, to write to one another; and just as certainly we shall find it awfully hard to meet, and, in fact, are more likely to knock across each other by pure accident than by design. It's always like that in warfare, and more than ever now in this conflict. Well, an revoir! That's the word, isn't it, Henri? Au revoir! Here's wishing that we may meet again soon; and, better than all, hoping that we shall rapidly whop the Germans. Au revoir! We have had splendid times together."

They had had a wonderful adventure indeed, and that escape from Germany was one which, almost at once, gave interest of quite considerable degree to the public, both British and French. For journalists ferreted out the fact that Jules and Henri were fresh from Germany, and though the two young fellows were modest enough they did not hesitate to tell their story. Thus, as they sat in the express train which took them to the sea-coast on the following day, they read a full account of their own doings. A few hours later they were in Paris, and at once reported at the Ministry of War.

"Bravo! So you are back from Ruhleben, mes enfants. Welcome, welcome!" cried the officer who interviewed them. "And now, of course, like good sons of France, you have returned at once, at the very earliest moment indeed, to fight France's enemies--the Boche, the Hun, the despicable ruffian whom the Kaiser and his war lords have sent in our direction to wreck the country. Now, tell me; you have had some training?"

"Yes, mon Colonel, we have both done our course, and were on holiday in Germany when war broke out and prevented us from returning. We are very anxious, mon Colonel, to join in the fighting."

The old Colonel's eyes sparkled as he listened to Henri's rejoinder, and, with Gallic enthusiasm, he smacked both young fellows heartily on the back.

"Bon! It is fine to hear you, mes enfants. It is grand to know that two of France's sons have gone through such adventures in order to return to the country. And you wish to join in the fighting as soon as possible? Bien! If I can contrive to arrange it, it shall be so.

But, first of all, you must go to an instruction-camp, from which you will be drafted to regiments, and where, of course, your uniform will be issued, as well as your kit. Au revoir! Good luck go with you!"

It was a case of incessant movement for Henri and Jules, and, indeed, for weeks now they seemed to have been travelling; first those few miles on foot in the neighbourhood of the camp at Ruhleben, and then in the empty pa.s.senger train which had conveyed them from that dangerous area. Later came their trip on the supply train, and here, once more, they were packed in a French supply train running out of Paris en route for one of the big army camps inst.i.tuted by the French. By the following morning, in fact, they had discarded plain clothes, and were looking critically at one another in uniform.

Jules gave vent to a light whistle, indicative of surprise, astonishment, and amus.e.m.e.nt--if, indeed, a whistle can indicate the latter. Certainly it was not one which displayed any sort of tendency to admiration; while the grin which followed it made Henri quite sure that his appearance was a source almost of ridicule to his comrade.

"What's wrong?" he demanded rather shortly. For when you criticized Henri's get-up--the cut of his coat and of his trousers, and in particular the hang of the latter, the colour of his socks, and his particular fancy in boots and hats--he was apt to become quite angry.

And it made no difference now that the smart clothes which he was wont to wear had been changed for the peculiar blue uniform of France's fighting forces, supported by a pair of army boots of st.u.r.dy pattern, and capped by a steel helmet of distinctive style and of the same peculiar blue colour. Yet, withal, putting cut aside, allowing the fact that Henri, dressed as he was now, looked tall and strong and active and upright, and quite martial too, armed with a rifle, one had to admit that there was a huge difference between the Henri of that moment and the dapper, elegant, well-groomed Henri of twenty months before--a Henri who in London or Paris might quite fairly have been termed a "knut".

"Well, you do look a 'one-er'!"

"And what about you?" demanded Henri a little warmly. "Now that compliments are flying, what about you, mon ami? With that pack on your back you look like a donkey laden for the market."

At that Jules grimaced, and jerked his pack higher; and, indeed, Henri had not described him altogether unfairly. For your French _poilu_--the gallant, st.u.r.dy French infantry soldier--is, when on the line of march, if not actually overloaded, certainly apt to have the appearance of being so. What with his pack, his mess tins, the camp-kettle which one man among a certain number carries, his entrenching-tools, and the little bundle of f.a.ggots for the camp-fire, a French infantryman does indeed seem to have a vast quant.i.ty of personal impedimenta.

A sounding bugle called the two, and in a little while they were parading with a number of other men, some of whom had already seen service, while others were new to warfare altogether--men who possibly had been delayed from joining the colours by illness, who had contrived to reach France from abroad, or who belonged to a younger cla.s.sification. A smart sergeant threw a knowing eye along the line, and, striding down it, seemed to take in the appearance of every man within a few seconds. Halting here for a moment to adjust a belt, and there to tuck in the tag of a buckle, he soon reached the end of the line, and, pa.s.sing down behind it, adjusting packs, putting kettles in the correct position, arranging helmets at the regulation angle, he presently appeared in front again, and treated the squad to a smile of commendation.

"Very good indeed, lads. Very good," he said. "Stand easy for a moment."

Striding across the ground came a dapper officer--one of those smart, tall, well-turned-out Frenchmen, who appear to be the essence of soldierly composure. Halting in front of the squad, which was drawn up at attention once more, he, too, ran his eye over the men, pa.s.sed a remark to the Sergeant which was essentially complimentary, and then advanced a few paces nearer.

"Mes enfants," he said, "there are some among you, who are but new recruits, who may have done your musketry course already, who doubtless know something of soldiering, and yet who must needs undergo further training; to you my remarks do not apply. But there are others among you who have seen service, who have engaged the Boche, and who may doubtless desire to return to the front at the earliest moment. Let such men step a pace forward."

Henri did not even glance at Jules, seeing that, being on parade, he must keep his eyes directly forward; while Jules, some files to his left, did not dare to cast a look in Henri's direction. It was strange, therefore, and yet not strange, when one remembers the spirit which animated these two young fellows, that, without agreement, without waiting to see what the other would do, each instantly took a pace forward, and with them perhaps a dozen of their comrades.

"Bien! Very good! And now we will ask you all about it," said the officer, smiling pleasantly. "Mon camarade, you who look so strong, tell us of your experience."

He halted in front of a broad-shouldered, burly man, who was well past thirty-five years of age, and whose chin was deeply scarred by a wound, now healed completely.

"What experience, mon Capitaine?" the gallant fellow repeated. "Well, at Ypres, in 1915, and before that, at Charleroi, in the great retreat past Chateau Thierry, and so to the south of the Grand Morin."

"And afterwards, mon ami?" asked the officer, patting him in paternal manner on the shoulder; for, though discipline is strict in the French army, indeed stricter in no other, there is yet the best of feeling between officers and men, a species of _camaraderie_ which unites them closely. "You have seen much service, my friend. What then, after the Grand Morin?"

"What, then? Mon Dieu! There was the Battle of the Marne, mon Capitaine, when we drove the Boche before us; and there followed the fight about the Aisne, when the British were just to the left of us; and, later, yes later, for I have seen a great deal, mon Capitaine, there was fighting near Arras, fighting to the north of the line later, between Ypres and Nieuport, when the Germans a.s.sailed the British at Ypres, and lost the flower of their Prussian Guard Corps. This is the full tale, monsieur, for I have already mentioned the Second Battle of Ypres, in which those Huns first nearly stifled me with asphyxiating gas, and then took this chip out of my chin with a bullet."

"And you would repay that same chip, my friend?", laughed the officer.

"Bien! You may say that, Monsieur le Capitaine--repay it a hundredfold if I am able."