The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

  CHAPTER XXV

  Thelma Everest

  The detention of Rollo Barrington and Kenneth Everest on Dutch soil wasof comparatively short duration. Well before the end of September theywere allowed to recross the frontier within a few miles of the strongfortress of Antwerp.

  The Northumberland Fusilier--his companions in peril never learnt hisname--did not accompany them. At the first available opportunity hegot into communication with a British Consul, and, through thatofficial's instrumentality, was sent back to England. Here he reportedhimself at the nearest regimental depot, and, greatly to hissatisfaction, was again sent across the Channel to rejoin hiscomrades-in-arms.

  Upon gaining Dutch territory, almost the first act of Kenneth and Rollowas to communicate the news of their safety to their anxious parents,at the same time stating their intention of proceeding to Antwerp tocontinue their work as dispatch-riders to the Belgian forces.

  Upon arriving at the great Belgian fortress the lads found, to theirhuge satisfaction, that the 9th Regiment of the Line--or rather theremains of it--formed part of the garrison, their duty being to man thetrenches between Fort de Wavre Ste Catherine and Fort de Waelhem--poststhat, owing to their strategical position, seemed likely to bear thebrunt of the threatened German attack.

  "Dieu soit loue!" exclaimed Major Planchenoit. He was captain nolonger, having gained well-merited promotion. "It is messieurs theEnglish dispatch-riders. What has befallen you?"

  As briefly as possible Kenneth related their adventures from the timeof their ill-starred ride to Cortenaeken.

  "And now we wish to report ourselves again for duty, sir," concludedEverest. "Ought we to see Major Resimont?"

  Major Planchenoit shook his head sadly.

  "My gallant comrade, alas! has been severely wounded. There is,however, one consolation; he is safe in England, enjoying thehospitality of your incomparable fellow-countrymen. If we had not anassured refuge in England, where would we be? But, messieurs, it willbe necessary to provide you with uniforms and equipment. I will giveyou an order for the Quartermaster. When you are fitted out, reportyourselves at the divisional staff office."

  Obtaining new uniforms was out of the question: there were none to behad. So, in place of their motor-cyclists' kit, the lads had to becontent with second-hand infantryman's uniform--heavy blue coat, loosetrousers tucked into black-leather gaiters, and a blue, peakless capsimilar to the British "pill-box" of half a century ago, but wornsquarely on the head instead of being perched at a rakish angle. Torender their head-gear more conspicuous it was adorned by a band ofdark-red cloth.

  The Quartermaster was deeply apologetic.

  "But, after all, messieurs," he added, "a uniform is a uniform all theworld over. It entitles, or should entitle, its wearer to thecourtesies of war."

  The lads agreed on this point, although they realized that the heavyclothing was not at all suitable for dispatch-riding, where agility onthe part of the cyclist and a near approach of invisibility in thematter of his uniform were essential conditions to efficiency.

  Nor were revolvers served out to them. Instead, they were given Mauserrifles and short bayonets, the ammunition for the former being keptloosely in two large black-leather pouches attached to the belt.

  "As regards your motor-cycles," continued the Quartermaster, "you maychoose for yourselves. Believe me, we have a large and variedassortment."

  As soon as Kenneth and Rollo had donned their cumbersome uniforms andequipment they were handed over to the care of a sergeant, who was toldto escort them to the store where the reserve motor-transport vehicleswere kept. This building, formerly a brewery, stood at a distance oftwo miles from the advanced line of trenches, and on the banks of theRiver Nethe.

  In the brewery yard were nearly two hundred motor-cars and lorriesarranged in various grades of efficiency; while in the cellars wererows and rows of motor-cycles and ordinary bicycles in all sorts ofconditions.

  "Voila, messieurs!" exclaimed the sergeant with a comprehensive wave ofthe hand.

  In spite of the fact that the lads were but corporals the sergeantinvariably addressed them as "messieurs". From the staff officersdownwards, all with whom the British lads came in contact paid thiscourteous tribute to their devotion to Belgium's cause.

  Kenneth and Rollo were some time making their selection. They realizedthat their lives might depend upon the reliability of their mounts.Finally they decided upon two motor-cycles of British make, verysimilar to their own, although of an earlier pattern. Examinationshowed that the tyres were in excellent condition, and that with aslight overhauling the machines ought to prove most serviceable.

  There was petrol in abundance, more than was likely to be requiredduring the impending operations around Antwerp. Having filled up thetanks of their motor-cycles, the lads started back to the lines, thesergeant being perched upon the carrier of Rollo's mount.

  The English lads were warmly welcomed by their new comrades of themotor section. Not one of the Belgian dispatch-riders who had takenpart in the operations between Liege and Brussels was left. All ofthem had either been killed or wounded in the execution of their duty.Of the seven motor-cyclists now serving, one was in civil life anadvocate, two were diamond merchants, a fourth a professor oflanguages, and the others railway mechanics. Yet, in spite of thegreat variations of social grades, the men were excellent comrades,united by a common cause.

  There were twenty ordinary cyclists as well, while the section alsomanned an armoured motor-car mounting a machine-gun. This travellingfortress had already gained a reputation as a hard nut for the Germansto crack. Up to the present they had not succeeded, while themachine-gun had accounted for several of the invaders.

  Kenneth and Rollo were not allowed to be idle. Eager to get to workagain, they were taken in hand by a captain, who by the aid of a mappointed out the position of the various forts forming the outer andinner lines of defences. The lads had also to memorize the principalroads of communication between the city and the advanced works, as wellas the chief thoroughfares and public buildings of Antwerp itself.Until they had a fair topographical knowledge they could be of littleuse as dispatch-riders, but, owing to the comparatively narrow limitsof the Belgian forces, this information could be mastered after a briefconcentrated effort.

  Major Planchenoit took good care to put the rejoined dispatch-riders toa practical test. Although glad of the help of the two Britishsubjects, he was not an officer likely to employ them on important workuntil they knew the locality. Of their courage and sagacity he alreadyhad proof, but these qualifications were almost of a negligiblequantity unless they knew the "lay of the land".

  Next morning the lads had their instructions.

  "You will proceed with the dispatch to the officer commanding theoutpost at Lierre," ordered Major Planchenoit. "This done, go on toVremde. There you will find a detachment of the regiment. This packetis for the company officer. This done, proceed to the city, seekCommandant Fleurus, and deliver this dispatch. Await furtherinstructions from him, and report to me."

  Kenneth and Rollo saluted, and hastened to the shed where theirmotor-cycles were stored. As they were giving them a final overhaul,Private Labori--formerly a diamond merchant and now adispatch-rider--hailed them.

  "Are you going into the city, camarades? You are? Good! Bring mesome cigars, and I will be eternally indebted to you. I smoked my lastyesterday, and without cigars I am as a man doomed to perdition. Ofyour charity, camarades, do me this favour."

  Private Labori pressed a ten-franc piece into Kenneth's hand, and witha hurried expression of gratitude returned to his task of peelingpotatoes for the midday meal.

  "He's taken it for granted that we get the cigars," remarked Kenneth."I suppose it would not be a breach of discipline to get them."

  "Almost like old times," declared Rollo, as the riders sped side byside over the tree-lined road. "Pity we haven't our own motor-bikes,though."

  He spoke with the same
sort of affection as the huntsman has for hisfavourite horse, but Kenneth was more practical and unimaginative.

  "We're lucky to be riding at all," he said. "After all, this jiggergets along pretty well. We're doing a good twenty-five."

  The three dispatches were delivered in quick time. Commandant Fleurusgreeted the lads warmly, and questioned them at great length on thesubject of their adventures.

  "It is not possible to give you a reply at once," he said at the closeof the interview. "Come back at three o'clock, and the dispatch forMajor Planchenoit will be handed you. Meanwhile it will not benecessary for you to return to Wavre Ste Catherine. You are at libertyto amuse yourselves until the hour named."

  "Jolly considerate of him," remarked Kenneth after the lads hadwithdrawn from the Commandant's presence. "We'll put up the bikes andhave a stroll round. It wouldn't be half a bad idea to call at thepost office. There may be something for us, but we had better notreckon too much on it."

  They were not disappointed, for on making application at the postoffice they were each handed quite a bulky packet of correspondence.There were letters from their respective parents and relatives, and anumber from old school chums. These had been written when a part oftheir adventures in Belgium had been related by their proud parents tothe head of St. Cyprian's. He, in turn, had passed on the news to therest of the school, and the result was a swarm of congratulatoryletters, sent to Mr. Everest and Colonel Harrington, who, uponreceiving news of their sons' safety, had promptly forwarded the batchof correspondence.

  "By Jove!" exclaimed Kenneth, "the pater's written to say that Thelmais a nurse in one of the hospitals here--St. Nicholas is the name. Hewants me to keep an eye on her, so to speak, and pack her off toEngland if there's danger of the city being taken by the enemy."

  "Let's find out where St. Nicholas Hospital is, and go there at once,"suggested Rollo. "Only I hope we'll have better luck than when wetried to see your sister at Madame de la Barre's."

  "We do look like a couple of brigands," said Kenneth as they hurriedthrough the crowded streets; for their uniforms were far from beingsmart, while their rifles slung across their backs gave them a trulyferocious appearance.

  "Think so?" asked Rollo with considerable misgivings. "Then I thinkI'll wait outside, if you don't mind."

  "Nonsense, man," rejoined his companion heartily. "We're like the restof the troops. It's an honour to wear a Belgian uniform, after whatthese fellows have done to delay the German advance and to upset theKaiser's time-table. Only I'll bet that Thelma doesn't know me."

  Kenneth was wrong in his surmise, for on calling at the hospital,Thelma happened to be passing through the hall. She recognized herbrother at once, but he hardly knew the tall, graceful girl in the neatand becoming nurse's uniform as his sister.

  "So you are my brother's chum," she remarked quite unaffectedly whenKenneth had introduced the bashful Rollo. "I've heard a lot about youfrom Kenneth when you were at St. Cyprian's, you know. And now you aresoldiers fighting for brave little Belgium."

  "And what are you doing here?" asked Kenneth with a display offraternal authority. "There are at least three British hospitals inAntwerp, I believe. I wonder why you didn't join one of these."

  "I wonder why you didn't join the British army instead of enlisting inthe Belgian one," retorted Thelma in mock reproof.

  "For one thing, we weren't old enough," explained her brother. "Foranother, we saw most of the fun before our troops landed in France.It's been a rotten time, but it's well worth it."

  "Yes, I am glad you were able to do your bit," agreed Thelma. "And nowI'll tell you why I'm here. My friend Yvonne Resimont and I bothentered as nurses, so as to be together."

  "Yvonne Resimont here?" asked Kenneth.

  "Yes--do you know her?"

  "No; but I might have done, had Madame de la Barre not been soconfoundedly pigheaded. But it's not too late now," he added.

  Thelma laughed.

  "I'll find her," she said.

  "One moment," exclaimed Rollo, who had hitherto held his tongue but hadmade good use of his eyes. "Does Mademoiselle Resimont know about herfather?"

  "No; she has not heard anything of or from him for weeks. He is notdead?"

  "Badly wounded, and now somewhere in England. I don't know where; butperhaps Major Planchenoit could give further particulars. And MadameResimont?"

  "She is in Holland--at Bergen-op-Zoom. The doctors ordered her to go,otherwise she would have remained here and helped with the wounded.I'll find Yvonne."

  In less than a minute Thelma Everest returned, accompanied by herBelgian chum.

  Yvonne Resimont was a girl of medium height and well-proportioned. Herfeatures were dark and clear, her hair of a deep brown.Notwithstanding the grimness of her surroundings she had a naturalvivacity that could not fail to charm all with whom she came in contact.

  "You, then, are Kenneth," she exclaimed in good English, with a slightforeign accent. "I know much about you from Thelma, but I did notexpect to see you in the uniform of our brave Belgians."

  Kenneth coloured slightly.

  "I wish to goodness the uniform were a little better fitting," hethought; but it would not have mattered in the slightest degree.Yvonne was a patriot to her finger-tips. Every man in the uniform ofher beloved country was to her a hero. The uniform, ill-fitting orotherwise, was in her eyes an emblem of right against might.

  "Tell me, Kenneth," she continued, using his Christian name quite as amatter of course. It was excusable, since Thelma had never spoken ofher brother by any other name, and Kenneth had not the faintestobjection. "Tell me, how came you to be fighting with us in Belgianuniform?"

  "Time, old man," announced Rollo, for during the animated conversationthe minutes fled with astonishing rapidity. "It's nearly threeo'clock."

  "You'll both come to see us again whenever you have the chance, won'tyou?" asked Thelma, as the two chums bade the girls farewell. "For thenext ten days we are on night duty, so you can call at any hour betweeneight and eight."

  "And if we are asleep," added Yvonne, "tell them to awaken us. I willnot be cross at being disturbed, and I do not think Thelma will be."

  "Ripping girl, your sister, old man," remarked Rollo enthusiastically,as the twain hurried towards the staff office.

  "Is she?" asked Kenneth absent-mindedly. He was thinking deeply ofsomeone else.