The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War
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CHAPTER IX
A Midnight Retirement
When Rollo opened his eyes he found himself lying in the open air. Hewas in one of the courtyards of the Palace of Justice. The thunder ofthe bombardment still roared. The noise of the guns recalled hisscattered thoughts to the event that had almost cost him his life.
A Belgian army doctor was kneeling by his side, while Kenneth supportedhis head. Around him stood a number of soldiers, some of whom hadpaused in the act of cleaning their rifles in order to watch theirEnglish comrade's return to consciousness.
"Hello, Kenneth!" exclaimed Rollo, somewhat vacantly. "What hashappened? Ah, I know--those Germans!"
"They won't trouble us again, old man," replied Kenneth. "You're inluck again. It was your suspicions that put the commandant on hisguard. But I'll tell you more about it later on."
"You must not unduly excite your friend," cautioned the doctor. "Hehas no bodily injury, but his nerves are stricken. He must rest untilto-morrow. I will have him taken into a safe cellar, where he needfear nothing from those German shells."
"Won't you come with me, Kenneth?" asked Rollo.
"Sorry, old man, but I'm warned for duty at five o'clock--seventeenhours, they call it. All being well, I'll look you up in the morning."
"See that my bike is all right."
"Rather!" replied Kenneth cheerily. "Don't worry about it. I'll lookafter it."
Later on in the evening Rollo heard of the circumstances under whichthe supposed British officers were shot down.
The room in which they had been asked to wait was, years ago, used as aplace of observation for prisoners awaiting trial. The carved oakpanelling terminated about six inches from the heavily-rafteredceiling. At one end was a space between two parallel massive beams,through which, from a gallery without, it was possible to observe allthat was taking place, although the watchers were themselves unseen.
Upon his attention being called to the error on the pseudo Britishmajor's visiting-card, the commandant's suspicions were aroused. Assoon as Rollo was dispatched with his message, a file of skilledriflemen ascended the observation gallery. Noiselessly they took uptheir positions, and having witnessed the holding up of their Britishcomrade, they delivered a volley that instantly exterminated thetreacherous Germans.
Rollo had, indeed, a narrow escape, for his captor in falling hadconvulsively pressed the trigger of his revolver. The bullet missedthe lad's head by a couple of inches, but the blast from the muzzle hadscorched his temple.
Barrington was in the midst of a deep slumber, in spite of the thunderof the guns, when he was awakened by someone shaking him by theshoulder.
"What's up?" he asked sleepily, for at the moment he fancied himselfback at St. Cyprian's. By the feeble glimmer of a candle-lantern hesaw his chum.
"Sorry to disturb you, old man," said Kenneth apologetically, "but ifyou don't want to find yourself a prisoner in the hands of the Germansyou must make a move. The bulk of the Belgian infantry is evacuatingthe town. The mayor is going to surrender Liege at noon, I believe."
"The forts haven't fallen?" asked Rollo, springing out of bed, only todiscover how shaky he felt.
"Not a bit of it," replied Kenneth confidently. "They'll hold out formonths, I expect. No, it is only on account of the damage to thepublic buildings and private property that Liege is to be given up. Idon't think it will be of much use to the Germans. They'll haveconsiderable difficulty to pass between the forts. They say theGermans have had another nasty reverse, and that they asked for anarmistice in order to bury their dead. Our fellows have refused; theyare beginning to sum up the cultured Teuton at his true price. But howdo you feel?"
"Pretty fit, though a bit rocky," admitted Rollo. "Where are thebikes?"
"We'll have to wheel them. I've taken off the belts. Orders have beengiven for the troops intended for the field to withdraw as quietly aspossible, you know. Come along."
Rollo had now thrown on his clothes, his chum assisting him to buckleon the belt to which was attached his revolver holster. Together theyleft the vaulted cellar and gained the street. It was a perfectly darknight. The stars were obscured, the air was misty and hot. Away tothe north, south, and east the sky was illuminated by thelightning-like glare of the heavy guns as the forts exchanged a hotfire with the German field artillery.
"Can you manage it?" asked Kenneth anxiously, as Rollo wheeled hisdeliberately crippled motor into the street.
"Rather," replied his companion with forced determination. "I'm notkeen on leaving my jigger for a rascally Prussian to smash. I'm jollyglad we are still attached to the 9th Regiment of the Line. We may seemore of Major Resimont. He's quite a decent sort."
"And Captain Planchenoit is a brick," added Kenneth. "I've beentalking to some of the men in his company. They swear by him; but he'sawfully keen on discipline, they say, and gets plenty of work out ofhis men."
The dispatch-riders found the regiment drawn up in column of fours in anarrow street behind the Church of St. Jacques. In this denseformation the men would have suffered severely had a shell fallen intheir ranks; but owing to the fact that the Germans were hoping to takeearly possession of the city, their gunners no longer droppedprojectiles into Liege, devoting their attention to the stubborn fortsthat had already thrown the imperial time-table into confusion.
Although the Belgian troops were no longer elated, they were far frombeing downcast. They realized that strategic reasons necessitated theevacuation of the city. They hoped that the forts could hold out.Already they had proved themselves equal man for man to the vauntedsoldiers of the Kaiser. Their object was now to contest every yard ofthe way to Brussels, their determination being strengthened by thewidespread belief that the pick of the English army would speedily befighting by their side.
Several of the men of the 9th Regiment bore evidences of the hard partthey had taken in the repulse of the initial German attacks. Many hadbandages round their heads; others had their hands swathed in linen,while a few limped badly; yet one and all showed resolute courage thataugured ill for any Prussian regiment which should happen to crosssteel with the valiant defenders of the cockpit of Europe.
Presently the Colonel gave an order. The men unfixed bayonets andsloped arms. In the centre of the column the lads could see the casedcolours round which a fierce struggle had taken place during thepreceding day. Then, at the word of command, the regiment swungbriskly along the narrow street.
Kenneth and Rollo found themselves with two other dispatch-riders atthe rear of the column. The other motor-cyclists had gone on a journeythat knows no return. There was also a detachment of twenty cyclistsbelonging to the regiment, but most of these silent scouts were farafield, making certain that the line of retreat was in no danger ofbeing ambushed by the wily Uhlans.
The route lay between Forts de Hollogne and de Flemalle, throughtortuous by-lanes. Over and over again the column was obliged to haltowing to the congestion of the roads, for twenty thousand Belgiantroops--field artillery, cavalry, and infantry--were evacuating thedoomed city that night.
Before they were clear of the environs of Liege, Rollo began to feelthe effects of his adventure with the German officers. The sweatpoured from him as he gamely pushed his unwieldy motor-cycle.Anxiously Kenneth watched him, unable to give assistance save by a fewwords of encouragement. Every time there was a halt Rollo leant acrossthe saddle, welcoming the rest, yet dreading the exertion required toresume the tortuous march. To lag behind was to risk capture, forsmall parties of Uhlans were known to have penetrated into the villagesof Hollogne and Montegnee, which lay between the as yet unconqueredforts and the city of Liege; otherwise he would have fallen out, waitedtill dawn, and then cycled to overtake the regiment.
During one of these short, unavoidable, halts a voice came through thedarkness.
"Monsieur Everest--is Monsieur Everest there?"
"Here I am, sir," replied Kenneth, recognizing the voice as that ofCaptain P
lanchenoit.
"Ah, good! I wish to enquire after your English comrade."
"He is here, sir."
"Ah, again good! I thought he would be unfit to move."
"He's not very much up to the mark, sir."
The captain flashed an electric torch upon the motor-cyclists.
"Ciel! you are indeed right, Monsieur Everest. I will see to matters.Private Roulaix," he added, addressing a Belgian who was walking his"push-bike", "place your bicycle in the first wagon that passes. Saythat I, Captain Planchenoit, orders it. Then relieve your Englishcomrade of his motor-cycle. Monsieur Barrington, as soon as PrivateRoulaix returns I will take you to one of the wagons. You are not, atpresent, fit to walk, still less to push that motor-cycle."
For the rest of that night Kenneth was without the company of his chum.As the grey dawn began to break, he too felt that he was nearly doneup, but still the steady retreat continued.
It was not until six o'clock in the morning that the 9th Regiment ofthe Line was ordered to bivouac outside the village of Omal. Heretrenches were dug, barbed-wire entanglements set up, barns and cottagesloopholed and placed in a state of defence in order to keep in checkthe German hordes until the expected aid was forthcoming.
For the next twenty-four hours the 9th Regiment was inactive, as far asactual fighting was concerned. With the rest of the mobile Belgianforces, the men were enjoying a well-earned respite and improving theirposition.
Although Rollo still remained off duty, Kenneth, with the rest of themotor dispatch-riders, had plenty to do. Frequently the lad had toride off at full speed to carry orders to bands of armed civilians tocease firing upon Belgian airmen; for these plucky air-scouts were soharried by the fire of their undisciplined fellow-countrymen that it isnot to be wondered at that after a time they declined to fly at all.
Kenneth had just returned from one of these errands when the Colonel ofthe regiment sent for him.
"You know the way to Tongres?" he asked.
"Yes, sir," replied the lad promptly, for although he had never beenthere, a close study of the map had enabled him to fix its position inhis mind.
"Then bear a verbal message to General Fechard. Say that in view of animpending strong attack upon our position reinforcements are urgentlyrequested to hold the village of Omal. Mitrailleuses are particularlydesirable. Is that clear? Then repeat the message."
Kenneth did so satisfactorily. The Colonel nodded approval.
"Now go," said he. "As quickly as you can, for the situation iscritical."