His going somehow seemed to break a spell.

"Come! We must see what's going on back there," said Paul. "We can see the battery, you know, if those crosses really mean that a battery was to be located on the spot we had placed from the map."

They went to the other side of the little garage and looked out. And, to the east, on a piece of rising ground, that would have been hidden had the de Frenard house still stood, as it had stood before the fire, they saw something that looked like a picture of an inferno.

There was a great gash in the woods, where trees had been cut down ruthlessly. Against the background of the woods that had been spared, a lurid glare threw everything into relief. Great arc lights had been strung, so that a space of ground was as bright as day, and in the light hundreds of men were working. In one place a great furnace was blazing, and the ruddy glow from that cast a crimson light against the cold, white radiance of the electric lamps. Steam cranes were at work; huge cannon were being moved into place on the pedestals that had been prepared for them in advance.

"We were right!" said Paul, exultingly. "That is to be a great battery. They must be very powerful guns, too, or else they would have been ready with the rest, and in action by this time. Ah! I'm glad I thought of the telephone!"

"How fast they are working!" said Arthur. That was what caught his eye in the strange, weird scene. There was no confusion, despite the extraordinary efforts that were obviously being made to hasten the work. Every man, as they could see, even at that distance, knew exactly what he was to do. It seemed that the whole operation must have been planned far in advance, even rehearsed. Such perfect team work could not be the result of chance, nor even of unusually good discipline. No, somewhere in Germany just such scenes must have been enacted in time of peace, that when the grim, harsh test of real war came there might be no delay, no lost motions, no trifling, unforeseen hitch to render useless all the elaborate plan that had been made. This might be war, but it was a grim, cold business, too.

"It's like going to see the steel works at Seraing at night," said Paul. "Except that there's less glare from the blast furnaces, of course."

"A good many of those men aren't in uniform," said Arthur, his keen eyes taking in details as he grew more accustomed to the strange and awe inspiring grandeur of the scene as a whole.

"They're probably workmen from Essen," said Paul. He had a pair of binoculars out now, and was looking closely at every detail of the scene.

"But why should they be there? This is a time for soldiers."

"Not altogether, Arthur. I know—don't you remember what Uncle Henri told us?—that a lot of the workmen from Seraing would have to be along with some of the new field artillery pieces, because the secrets of some things are kept even from the soldiers. Those are probably some of the men from the Krupp works, brought here just to handle these big guns."

"Well, they take their chances, just like soldiers, if they do that, don't they?"

"Of course. They really are soldiers, just as much as the others, but they have special work to do, that they're trained for. That's the only difference."

"What are we going to do now?"

"We're going to try to spoil the little surprise these Germans are preparing for Boncelles and Embourg," said Paul, gritting his teeth. "You stay here by this window, Arthur. I'm going down to telephone to Boncelles. If anyone comes near, tell me at once. It's awfully important, you know, to keep them from finding out about our telephone wire just as long as we can. And listen, in case I call to you. I'll want a quick answer, if I do."

"All right, Paul."

Down Paul went, then, to the gasoline pit. Lying at full length, he drew the telephone instrument from the cunningly devised hiding place he and Arthur had arranged for it. He was fearful for a moment; there was a chance, and more than a chance, that the German scouts might have found and cut the wire; they would certainly have tried to cut every telephone and telegraph wire in the neighborhood, as the first and most obvious precaution. But after a brief delay he was delighted to hear an answering voice.

Quickly he explained who he was, and found that his call had been expected. In a moment an artillery officer, who said he was Lieutenant Delaunay, was speaking.

"What information have you?" he asked, quickly. "I have your maps here before me."

"Find the one that shows the Ourthe and the ground before Boncelles and Embourg," said Paul.

"Right!"

"Mark the house of M. de Frenard, destroyed last night by fire."

"I have it!"

"Good! To the east of the house the ground slopes upward. It is well sheltered from observation by the fort. Your searchlights would be blocked by the woods between the fort and the house. But there is a spot marked on the map by a group of crosses. Do you see it?"

"Right! We decided that would be a battery. The other forts report that they have been fired on from points marked on the maps that you supplied, and that by concentrating their fire on the points indicated on these maps they have silenced a number of field guns."

"I am glad," said Paul, quietly. "I was sure that the information would prove to be valuable. Well, then, this battery is not of field guns. That is why you have heard no firing from it as yet. They are working now, by electric light, and are placing heavy guns—not the very heaviest, I should say, but far heavier pieces than would usually be at the front so soon—probably seven inch mortars."

"Seven inch mortars! That sounds almost incredible!"

"None the less, it is true. You may open fire at once on the spots marked on your map, and do great damage. We are in a position here to tell you whether your shells land properly or not—we can see the battery from here. Will you fire?"

"At once!" said Delaunay. "Go and watch for the shells—then report to us, if you can, whether they were properly aimed. You will be of the greatest service to us if you can do that. It is of the last importance that that battery should not come into action against us—these forts were not intended, when they were built, to withstand the battery of such heavy guns as that!"

Thrilled by the knowledge that the risks he and Arthur had run the previous night had not been in vain, Paul went upstairs and rejoined Arthur. To the east, where the frantic efforts of the Germans to get their heavy artillery into position for the opening attack were still continued, there was no apparent change in the situation.

"No one has come near," said Arthur. "Was the wire working? What did they say at Boncelles?"

Paul told him, and they settled down to wait It was nervous work, tense and anxious. Two of the guns—they counted six of them, in all—were already in position, and finishing touches were being put to them.

"Oh, why don't they hurry?" complained Arthur. "The Germans are not going to wait for them to be ready to fire."

"Listen," said Paul. "The fire is slackening a little, I think. You can see that what we did had some use—they have silenced a good many German guns already, through knowing just where to aim."

"What's that?" exclaimed Arthur, suddenly.

Overhead a strange noise filled the air; a shrieking, whining, whistling sound. It rose, as it came nearer, to a wild whistle, like the blast of a factory signal, releasing the workers at the end of the day's work. The two scouts stared at one another; then, without knowing why, they turned to look at the busy scene to the east. Suddenly, before their eyes, there was a flash; a puff of white smoke rising in the ghostly radiance of the arc lamps, and, after a distinct pause, a dull crash. Then, as the smoke cleared, and they still stood awe stricken, they saw that the bursting shell had torn a great hole in the ground. They saw men running; others were crawling, dragging themselves painfully along. And others still lay very quiet.

For just a moment there was a scene of wild confusion. But then order was restored, and a knot of men ran to the two guns that were uninjured and ready. Paul dived down at once. Quickly he told what had happened, then raced up again. Another whistling overhead, and then a terrific explosion. The two guns lay overturned, ruined.



CHAPTER X

PRISONERS OF WAR

For five minutes the two scouts, appalled, horrified, stood as if glued to the floor, staring at the scene of destruction. The guns in Fort Boncelles had the range now. Nothing more than Paul's hurried message, "Your shell landed beyond the guns," had been necessary. Now shell after shell was dropped in the midst of the battery that had been wiped out before it could fire even a single shot. There was a deadly, terrifying accuracy about the whole proceeding. Miles away the Belgian gunners, safe in their concrete and steel turrets, were producing this waste and destruction—not by fighting, it seemed to Paul and Arthur, but by a blackboard exercise. That was all it really was.

"You see, they know just where their gun is, and they can adjust it to fire a certain distance. They can take a map, and fire a shell at any given spot, just by mathematics. They know the angle they must use, and they know just how far, and how fast that shell will go. It won't always go quite true, of course; that was why the first shell didn't strike just the right spot."

"But why is that, if everything is so exact? I shouldn't think they'd ever make a miss."

"Oh, there are lots of reasons. For one, after a gun has been fired a few times the inside is affected. The rifling is worn in places, and that gives a slightly different spin to the shell. It doesn't take much of a change in conditions to alter the course of a shell a good deal. And the weather counts, too. Sometimes there is more air resistance; on a day when it is damp and foggy, with low lying clouds, for instance. So, though they have the range exactly, they may have to alter what they call the formula a little."

"And they find out by shooting how nearly right they are?"

"Yes, that's just what they do. It's the only way they can do it, too. That's why it's so important, when guns are being fired at targets miles away, to have some one report the effect of the first shot or two. In a regular battle, in open country, both armies will probably use aeroplanes in this war. The man in the aeroplane can see just where the shells strike, and send back word."

"How?"

"In lots of ways. Some of the bigger ones have a small wireless equipment. Sometimes they drop bombs, that make a smoky patch in the air when they explode—they drop them right over the place the artillery wants to hit, and then the men with the guns get their instruments and figure out just what the range is."

"I don't think the Germans are so very brave, after all," said Arthur, in a moment. "They all ran as soon as the shells began to come."

"That doesn't show they're not brave—it only shows that their officers have some common sense. What good could they do if they stayed there to be killed? They couldn't save those guns, could they? I'm sorry they couldn't have been warned, that's all. You see, they might have thought the first shell was just a chance, lucky shot and so they stayed after that, and tried to fire themselves. But when the second one came plumping into them they knew the truth—and the officers sent them to cover, just as any officers who knew their business would have done."

"I suppose it's war," said Arthur, a little gloomily. "But—"

"It's war right enough," said Paul, with a shudder. "It's not like the pictures we've seen of Waterloo, but it's war. But there'll be plenty of the other sort, too, before it's over, Arthur. You needn't worry about that. The Germans haven't had time to bring up very many men yet, but I expect they will, and they may try to rush the forts. Did you notice that they were stretching a lot of wire fencing near Fort Boncelles when we passed it last night?"

"Yes. What was that for?"

"To stop an infantry charge, or to help to stop it. You see, an attack by infantry is likely to be made at night, when it's harder to see the men being massed. And the wire fence piles up a charge. Oh, I think there'll be some pretty bad fighting of the old-fashioned sort before they capture Liege!"

"I don't see how they can capture Liege at all," said Arthur, stoutly. "The firing of the guns has almost stopped; it seems to me that they've been beaten back."

"It seems so, but I'm afraid it isn't really true," said Paul, with a smile. "The Germans haven't begun yet, Arthur. And there are millions of them. They can put thousands of men in the field to our hundreds—they will outnumber us ten to one, at least. Liege isn't supposed to hold out against them very long. No one expects it to. If it checks them, keeps them from spreading all over Belgium in their first rush, it will have done its part fully."

"I'd like to see them beaten here, just the same," said Arthur, stubbornly.

"I'm going down to report what happened," said Paul. "Keep watch, Arthur, but I don't think we can do much more here. I believe that we won't have to stay here very much longer."

Boncelles had ceased firing by this time, and the close, immediate din was at an end for the time, at least. There was still heavy firing from the northwest, which Paul guessed was from the guns of Fort Pontisse, replying to an attack launched from Vise and Argenteau. Major du Chaillu had said that the Germans would almost certainly try to cross the Meuse at Vise, which was the best place they could choose to launch the cavalry raid he said would be likely to form a part of their strategy.

"We will have troops there," he said, "to try to hold them back, supported by Fort Pontisse. But if they come in great force they can probably break through there, for the place is not well suited to defence."

Everywhere else in the circle that was closing about Liege the firing seemed to have died away. And Paul was anxious to know how the opening skirmish—as he correctly judged it to have been—had gone, as well as to make his report of what he and Arthur had seen. Delaunay was waiting at the Boncelles end of the wire.

"You are there at last!" he said, relief in his voice. "I was afraid you and your brave friend had been hurt."

"No, we're all right. It's the Germans who were hurt! You smashed that battery to pieces, lieutenant! They never got a single gun ready to fire. Your second shell smashed the two that were in position, and the shells after that simply swept the location of the battery. I don't think the guns can be of much use—not for a long time, and until they have been thoroughly repaired, at any rate. How has the fighting gone elsewhere?"

"We are holding them along the Meuse, north of Pontisse. They attacked with their infantry there, but we beat them back easily."

"That is good news! We are holding them all along the line, then?"

"Yes, for the present. But they have not brought up large forces yet. When they do, it will soon be over unless we receive heavy reenforcements. You two had better come in, if you can get away from your position without being detected. There is no more for you to do there. You have already accomplished far more than we hoped."

"We are to report to you at Fort Boncelles?"

"It makes no difference. No, I think you had better try to get into Liege itself and find Major du Chaillu. Good luck!"

"Thank you, lieutenant, and the same to Fort Boncelles! We will try to escape from here. I should think we ought to have no great trouble, for the Germans will be busy at their battery again, as soon as they find the shelling has ceased."

"Yes. We will give them another round or two at intervals during the night, just to let them know that we still think of them."

When he had finished talking to the fort, Paul proceeded to hide the telephone as well as he could. Sooner or later the Germans were certain to come to the garage and it was desirable, for a good many reasons, that they should find no evidences of the use to which it had been put. For one thing, it was impossible to tell what was going to happen. It might well turn out that further use could be made of the telephone later. And when Paul had done, he felt that it was highly improbable that the Germans could discover the installation. And then, just as he finished, Arthur cried out in a voice sharp with alarm, and Paul rushed up to join him.

The ground about the garage seemed suddenly to have sprouted soldiers. There were men everywhere, hundreds of them, advancing in loose order. For a moment Paul hung to the window, fascinated by the sight. Then he caught himself.

"It's an attack on Boncelles!" he said. "I'm going to warn them if I have time. I don't care what happens. Arthur, get away from here! If they come in, pretend you can't speak at all."

And on the word he was off, rushing down again, tearing away the cover he had provided for the telephone. He had to wait an agonizing two or three minutes before there was any answer, and once more he was sure that the wire must have been discovered and cut. But at last there was an answering voice in his ear, and he gave his news.

"Infantry?" asked Delaunay. "They must be mad!"

"They are planning a surprise attack, I suppose," said Paul. "There are a great many of them—and I am almost sure I saw some machine guns."

"If their battery hadn't been put out, I could understand," said Delaunay. "They might have attacked under the cover of a heavy fire from that. But to bring infantry against fortifications! It seems like suicide."

"I must go now," said Paul. "They are all around us. I don't know how soon they may come in. You will be ready for them?"

"Don't worry about that! We'll give them a hotter reception than they expect!"

Paul smashed the telephone now. Perhaps the Germans, if they found it, would think it had been useless from the beginning of the fighting. And, just as he went upstairs, there was a crash at the door, and half a dozen German soldiers, led by an officer, broke in. In a moment Paul was seized; in another two men had gone upstairs, and returned, each with a hand gripping one of Arthur's arms.

"What are you doing here?" asked the officer, in German. Paul understood him very well, but thought it better to pretend ignorance. He answered in French, saying he did not understand, and the German officer repeated his question in French.

"We—we lived in the house that was burned,"' said Paul, pretending to be greatly frightened. "We did not know where to go or what to do. So we stayed here."

"How long have you been here?"

"Since last night."

"You heard the explosions just now?"

"Yes. I did not know what they were."

"Take them back," said the lieutenant to a corporal. "You are in territory occupied by our forces where no civilians have any right to be," he added, speaking to Paul. "Unless you can prove that you are innocent, you will be tried and condemned as spies. Have you any arms here?"

"No, sir," said Paul.

A quick search confirmed his statement. But though that seemed to count in their favor, the order was not countermanded. In a few moments they were on their way through the German lines, and in half an hour they reached what was plainly the headquarters of a brigade at least, perhaps of a whole division. There they were thrust into a small hut that already contained three other prisoners, Belgian peasants. Outside the door there was a guard. They were prisoners of war and if the truth about their doings came out, they would almost certainly be shot, despite their youth.



CHAPTER XI

THE SPY

"What will they do to us, do you think?" asked Arthur. He was trembling, but with excitement, not from fear.

"Nothing, unless they can prove that we have actually been working against them," answered Paul. "And I don't see how they can."

"If those two who chased us when we ran off with their motorcycle saw us, they'd be able to prove it," said Arthur.

"Yes, I hadn't thought of them. But they're prisoners fortunately. I hope they'll be well looked after, too. It would be mighty awkward if they turned up here suddenly. They know just how important were the plans we got and these others don't know anything about that, at all. I believe that our people knowing just where the German guns were placed made a great deal of difference."

The coming of a soldier interrupted them. He told them that they were to be examined at once.

"Then you will be shot," he said, showing his teeth. "As you deserve," he added, trying to look fierce.

But there was a twinkle in his eye that both Paul and Arthur saw. They had been treated very well so far. They had seen nothing, as a matter of fact, to make them think that the Germans were brutal. They made war, and that is brutal in itself. The gentlest men, when they are engaged in a campaign, must do things that they would never attempt of their own free will.

The soldiers now led the way to a house that both boys knew well, for it belonged to a friend of their uncle, whom they had often visited. It was being used as headquarters now by a part of the German staff, and was full of officers who looked at them curiously. They still wore their Boy Scout uniforms. There had been no opportunity, as a matter of fact, for them to change their clothes before the fire, and all the other clothes they possessed had been destroyed, of course, at that time.

"You were caught by our troops in territory occupied by us—within our actual battle line, indeed," said a colonel who received them. "Did you not receive warning that all civilians were to leave the zone in which you were found?"

They could deny that truthfully, and did. Paul was rather glad, as the matter had turned out, that his plan of pretending to be dumb had not been tried. He knew that it would be very hard for Arthur to tell an untruth, even by suggestion, excellent as was the excuse for doing so. Arthur could understand, of course, that to deceive the enemy was permissible, and, more than that, praiseworthy. It was a question simply of whether he could hope to do so successfully.

"The thing to be done now is to get rid of you," said the colonel. He frowned severely, but, as with the soldier who had brought them for examination, there was a smile behind the frown. "I might have you shot, but we should save ammunition. And I might send you back to Germany, to be confined in a fortress, but that would mean that we should have to feed you. If I let you go through the lines toward Huy, will you promise not to come back?"

"Yes, sir," said Paul, heartily. He was amazed, by the prospect of release, but he realized, of course, that while he and Arthur knew what dangerous enemies they had already proved themselves, the colonel did not.

And so, to their surprise and Paul's relief, they were soon being escorted through the German lines, their direction being southwest, in the general direction of Huy, the Belgian city nearest to Liege of the border line of fortresses. Huy, though not as strong as either Liege or Namur, was a link in the chain, having been designed chiefly to supply a base for the centre of an army resisting the advance of an invader, with its wings resting on the more powerful fortifications of Liege and Namur.

Their escort was the same good-natured soldier who had taken them before Colonel Schmidt, and he paid little attention to them. Perhaps he thought that there was no need to watch them closely; perhaps he was simply negligent. But, whatever the reason, Paul was able to discover the composition of the force upon which they had stumbled with a good deal of exactness. He learned to what regiment their escort belonged, and he also saw numbers on helmets and other identifying marks that supplied him with much other information. Neither he nor Arthur knew the real meaning of what they saw, but both boys knew that if they reached the Belgian lines they would find officers of the intelligence department to whom such facts would be valuable in the extreme. It was important, as both knew, for the Belgians and their allies to know something of the German plan.

Paul, indeed, had spoken of that very point to Arthur after their arrest.

"If we see what regiments are here, others can use what we tell them to determine what army corps are being used in this attack, and perhaps what the general plan is," he had said. "Then the French will know where to mass their troops."

"Last stop!" said the soldier, finally. Some time before they had passed a sentry and for nearly a mile they had seen only outposts. "I must go back now. You are all right. We have passed the last of our posts. The next soldiers you see will be Belgians, unless we have cavalry in this direction. Perhaps this is a mistake. It might be better if I shot you myself, to make sure—eh?"

"You needn't trouble," said Arthur, and the soldier roared with laughter.

"All right, then, I won't!" he declared. "You are good boys. I am glad they let you go. But what will you do? You live in Liege, don't you? You can't get back there."

"We have friends in Brussels," said Paul. "I think we shall do very well now, thank you."

"Good! Then I will go back, and you will go forward—so! Good-bye!"

"Good-bye!" they echoed.

He drew himself up, stiffly, saluted, and then, laughing, broke into the famous German goose step, used as a mark of respect to superior officers, for a few paces. In a few moments he was gone.

"I don't believe he wanted to come into Belgium and fight against us," said Arthur. "He was splendid to us, wasn't he? And the colonel was kind, too. It made me feel—oh, I don't know—"

"As if we were being sneaky? I know just what you mean. I felt like that, too. But I told myself that we couldn't think of whether we liked a few Germans who were good to us—that they weren't just people, they were part of the enemy."

"Yes. That's what I thought of, too. But it was hard just the same, Paul. I did feel like a sneak. But I suppose we are doing what is right."

"I wish there was some way of getting the news of what we've learned to-night into Liege," said Paul, frowning. "I don't see just what it all means, but I'm quite sure it's important. I tell you what—I believe they're sending even more troops into Belgium than anyone thought they would. That soldier was from a regiment that is stationed with the army corps that has its headquarters in Koenigsburg, near the Russian border. It seems to me they are going to leave fewer troops there than anyone expected. Perhaps the staff knows that, but then perhaps it doesn't."

"If we get to Huy they can send word from there," said Arthur. "They must have wireless working, even if the Germans have cut all the wires."

"That's so! I hadn't thought. I don't know just where we are, though, do you?"

"Not exactly. They tried to keep us from finding out, I think. But I watched the stars whenever I could, and I think if we turn to the right here and keep on northeast, we'll come to the river road from Liege to Huy. Then we shouldn't have any trouble at all, so far as I can see."

Paul looked up at the stars himself, studied the lay of the land for a moment, and then nodded in agreement.

"Yes," he said. "That's what we'll have to do. Come on, then. We'll cut across the fields. I'd rather do that than take chances on finding a path or a road. It can't be so very far, do you think so?"

"No. Listen, Paul! What's that?"

The exclamation was prompted by a sudden roar in the direction as nearly as they could guess of Fort Boncelles. At the same time the great searchlights that were steadily sweeping earth and air from the forts around Liege seemed to focus on one spot—the spot, they soon determined, from which the renewed sound of heavy firing came.

"That must be the attack on Fort Boncelles that we were afraid of," said Paul.

"Well, they were ready for it, Paul. You don't think it can succeed, do you?"

"I think we ought to know pretty soon. No, I don't see how a fortified position can be carried by an infantry attack when its garrison is entirely prepared, unless the force is so overwhelming that the attacking force can lose an awful lot of men—more men than the Germans have altogether, if we saw all, or even nearly all, of them."

They stayed where they were for a few minutes, listening to the firing. For the first time the note of real hand-to-hand fighting came into the battle din. They could hear the crashing volleys of rifle fire, and the explosive crackling of machine guns coming into play for the first time. That was confirmation enough of their guess that a regular assault on the line of forts was in progress.

"You see that just shows how important it is for them to capture Liege quickly, Arthur," said Paul. "They know perfectly well that when they bring up a few more army corps and their big guns they can batter the forts to pieces and just overwhelm our garrison."

"But they want to have the path clear for the extra army corps. That's what you mean, isn't it, Paul?"

"Exactly. They want the way through and around Liege clear, so that the great army, when it's all ready, can sweep straight on and strike the French before they're ready for them. They don't want to bother with us at all. So they're willing to lose all those men just to save a few days."

"But why are a few days so tremendously important to them?"

"They've got to strike before France is ready, because they can't use their whole army against France. They must keep a great many corps to use against Russia, or else Russian soldiers will get to Berlin before the Germans get to Paris. And their chance is to do it in the first few days of the war. France takes nearly a week longer than Germany to mobilize, and Russia almost a month longer than either France or Germany. You see what we will do at Liege and Namur is to hold up the Germans long enough to make up for their being able to mobilize more quickly."

The firing was dying away now; the heavy guns resumed their work, and the lighter machine guns were silent.

"I think they've repulsed the attack all right," said Paul. "That's why the fire has slackened. Come on! We really haven't so much time to lose."

So they struck off from the road, crossing into a field full of grain.

"It seems a shame to trample down this grain, but it's got mighty little chance of being harvested this season anyhow," said Arthur.

"Yes. The German army will advance this way probably, and, even if it didn't, I don't believe there would be men enough to garner the crop."

Suddenly Arthur stumbled. He had walked against a man who was lying amid the grain. Now the man started up with a cry. And they both recognized Ridder—the man who had dropped the all-important plans!



CHAPTER XII

A CLOSE SHAVE

Blind instinct sent them both running, though a moment of reflection would have told them that to run was the worst thing they could have done. Ridder had been asleep and he did not arouse himself fully at first. And perhaps that saved them. He did fire after them once but his aim was bad, and before he could fire again they had leaped a hedge and dropped out of his sight into a sunken road that crossed the fields parallel to the course they were taking toward the river road to Huy. They had a good start and Ridder was fifty yards behind them when they reached the shelter of the road. Here Paul pulled himself together.

"Stop!" he said to Arthur, seizing his chum by the arm. "Here, get right into the shadow of the hedge here, at the side of the road—there's almost a ditch, too. If he follows us, he may go straight on, and he won't know which direction we took. It's the best chance we have to escape."

"Do you think he recognized us?" asked Arthur.

"I don't know. But our running away like that made him suspicious—we can be sure of that much, anyhow. Look out! I hear him coming!"

Down they crouched, just in time. Ridder came tumbling through the hedge, growling fiercely.

"If I were sure!" he said fiercely and under his breath, so that they could scarcely hear him. "Those verflutchen boys! If I knew that they were the ones who stole my papers!"

In the middle of the road he paused and rubbed his eyes. He reeled a little as he stood; it was plain that the man was in the last stages of exhaustion. The two scouts, even without knowing in detail what the duties of a spy in wartime might be, could understand Ridder's exhaustion. They could guess how much he must have done since they had last seen him.

As they crouched, watching him, he dropped his head, like a dog looking for a scent suddenly vanished, and seemed to hesitate, wondering which way to go. He circled around, apparently looking for something to guide him. The road was hard, and baked dry. There had been no rain for a good many days, and so their footprints did not show. Ridder tossed his head at last in decision. The two scouts began to breathe again in a more normal fashion when he turned down the road and went along, still muttering. He swayed from side to side as he walked.

"Poor chap!" said Paul, finally. "I feel sorry for him! And I'm certainly glad he was so tired! I wouldn't give much for our chances if he had caught us. He knows by this time, you can be sure, what we did with those plans."

"I don't feel sorry for him—he's a spy!" said Arthur.

"We're spies, too," said Paul, soberly. "And a good many Belgians will be spies, and Frenchmen, too, before this war has been going on very long. It's not nice work. There isn't the glory and the excitement about it that there is for the soldiers who are doing the fighting. But a spy does more for his country, if he succeeds in getting some really important information, than a whole regiment of men who do nothing but fight."

"I suppose so," admitted Arthur, grudgingly. "It's safe to go on now, isn't it?"

"Yes. I don't think we'll find our friend Ridder in the next field! And I hope we won't run into any more Germans of any sort."

As they walked along, the searchlights still flashed to their right and at intervals sounds of heavy firing came to them from the same direction. But the steady, ceaseless cannonading was over, and there had been no renewal of the sounds that indicated fighting at close quarters. Liege, it was easy to understand, was holding out.

Their course across the fields finally brought them to the river road, where they felt themselves at home. This road they knew thoroughly, having traversed it many and many a time. Now they were well on their way to Huy and felt that there was no reason now why they should not arrive safely. But suddenly Paul stopped.

"There's no use in our getting to Huy before morning, before it's light, anyway," he said. "The sentries wouldn't let us by. You know this is wartime. We're not used to that yet. Everything is changed. I'm tired, and I know you are, too. I think the best thing we can do is to get some sleep. We can't tell what we may not have to do after we get to Huy, and we'd better be fresh and ready for whatever turns up."

"I am tired," admitted Arthur. "I think you're right. Where shall we sleep?"

"We'll find a place before long," said Paul. "How peaceful it is here! If we couldn't see the searchlights and hear the guns now and then there'd be nothing to make it seem as if there was real fighting going on within a few miles."

Houses were fairly frequent as they went along, but all were dark. Their occupants, if they had not fled from the nearness of war, were all asleep. They were farm houses in the main; here, as everywhere in Belgium, the land was cut up into innumerable tiny patches, even smaller than the peasant farms of France. In the fields were endless rows of vegetables—beans, turnips, cabbages, and garden truck of all sorts. This was the sort of country that had made Belgium known for years as the vegetable garden of Europe. Finally they stopped near a dark house, and made themselves comfortable in the lee of a haystack. And there they slept until the light of the sun came to rouse them. They awoke to see a peasant boy staring stupidly at them.

"Good-morning!" said Paul, rousing himself. "Can we get breakfast in your house if we pay for it?"

"I suppose so," said the peasant. "My mother may have some for you. My father has gone to fight."

They followed him to the little cottage, and there they got what the woman could give them for breakfast—eggs and milk, as it turned out. In a few days, though she did not realize this, neither would be obtainable thereabout at any price; the German host would have spread over the countryside like a swarm of locusts. Perhaps it would pay for what it ate, but it would eat at all events, regardless of that, and the money it might leave in the place of the food it took would be valueless, since money can buy nothing when there is nothing to be sold.

But these were things of which neither the peasant woman nor the two scouts thought. They ate their breakfast with relish, not having realized until they saw the food how hungry they really were, and then, refreshed in mind and body, they began the last stage of their journey to Huy. They had not so very far to go and they entered the Belgian city to the tune of the distant cannon at Liege.

In Huy there was little to make one think of war. People were grouped in the streets, waiting eagerly for the news of what was going on at Liege, for all sorts of rumors were spreading about. On one side it was said that England had already declared war and had destroyed the German fleet; on the other that England had refused to fight at all. But most of the people of the town went about their business in the most unconcerned way, as if the invasion of the country could not possibly affect them, and their own affairs were still the most important things in the world for them.

There was only a small force of Belgian troops in Huy, as Paul and Arthur soon learned. And, to their dismay, they found that the officer in charge refused absolutely to listen to them! He was a pompous, greatly excited little man, most of whose service had been in the Congo, and he laughed at the suggestion that they could have information of value.

"But if you will send a wireless message to Liege Major du Chaillu will tell you that our information is correct," pleaded Paul. "At least he will tell you that we gave valuable news before, and that we can be trusted."

"There are other things for the wireless to do in times like these," said the officer pompously. "Be off with you, now. I have no time to waste on boys!"

"No wonder the Germans can win!" said Paul, bitterly. "What chance has an army with an officer so stupid as that?"

He had given up the attempt to convince the commandant, for it was obvious that they would only waste time and breath if they persisted.

"But what are we to do?" asked Arthur. "We must let them know in some way."

"We must go to Brussels," said Paul. "There are those there who will know that we can be trusted, and we may find a way of getting a wireless message through to Major du Chaillu."

But, as they soon found, it was one thing to decide to go to the capital, and quite another to accomplish their desire. The railway was choked by military movements. Troops and supplies of all sorts had usurped every means of travel, except by walking. Though Huy itself might appear to be normal, no other part of the country was, as it was easy to discover when an attempt was made to do even the most ordinary things.

"Well, if we can't ride, we can start walking," said Paul. "If we wait here we'll never get anywhere, that's sure. There's more confusion here than there was at Liege, and a lot less reason. The thing to do is to get away before they close the town up absolutely, so that we can't even do that."

But even that resolution could not be carried out without difficulties. For some reason—they learned later that it was because new troops were advancing from that direction—they were not allowed to pass along the road leading to Namur, which was the logical one for them to take in an effort to reach Brussels. Their plan had been to pass through Gembloux and Wavre, after turning around Namur. They were obliged, instead, to start back toward Liege, turning north after a few miles and heading for the railroad at Saint Trond.

"If we get that far I think we'll have a chance to get on a train," said Paul. "From all I hear, there will be troops there, covering Brussels."

"Covering Brussels? But it's nowhere near the city!" exclaimed Arthur in great amazement.

"That doesn't matter, Arthur. Brussels will be defended at long range or not at all. If the Germans get past Tirlemont and Haelen they will get to Brussels, I think, without any more opposition."

"But why? There are no fortifications there."

"I believe there are—by this time," said Paul. "Earthworks, at least. You see, it would simply mean terrible destruction and suffering if a city like Brussels were defended. It has no forts, and it would be a simple matter for the Germans to stand off and bombard it. It is like that with Louvain. It would be better to let the Germans capture that town without resistance than to force them to bombard it and destroy the famous old buildings there. If a great city cannot be defended by an army fifty miles away, it is better not to defend it at all."

The idea of such a tame yielding of Brussels, where he had been born and had lived most of his life, seemed to depress Arthur greatly. For a long time they went along in silence. Then a peasant came along with a cart and offered them a ride. This man seemed to know little or nothing of the war, although, like them, he must have been able to hear the sullen growling of the cannon from Liege, that showed the fortress was still holding out. They rode for several miles with this man, until he had to turn off. Then they began walking again. And now, before them, directly in their path but still some considerable distance away, they saw smoke rising on the horizon, a pall heavy, brownish smoke with patches of black. It was not at all like the faint haze that hung over Liege, the result of smokeless powder.

"There must be a fire," said Arthur.

"I should think so," said Paul, grimly. "The Uhlans are ahead of us, Arthur."



CHAPTER XIII

THE CIVIC GUARDS

That this was no mistaken guess they soon learned. Half a mile of fast walking brought them to a small village, and there they met a stream of panic-stricken refugees, fleeing from their own burning homes a little further on. The people of the village swarmed about the newcomers, exclaiming in horror and anger at their stories. Paul and Arthur listened.

German cavalry, it seemed, had ridden in early that morning, and posted notices, in German, French and the Walloon dialect that many of the peasantry still used. These notices warned all the people that the German army had occupied the town or village, and that no act of violence against the invaders must be committed. All arms, it read, were to be surrendered, and certain rules about keeping lights in every window and having all doors unlocked must be strictly obeyed.

If obedience were given, said the Germans, no harm would be done to the occupied places or any of their citizens.

"Then they rode away," a woman was saying. "And presently foot soldiers came in their places. And—a shot was fired. It struck an officer. Then they went into the house where the man who fired the shot had been, and they brought out every man they found in it, and killed them right before all of us, before they set the house on fire. And they set other houses on fire, too, where they said they found guns and pistols! They said we were murderers! Is it murder to defend oneself in time of war? My man is with the army! Is he a murderer?"

Arthur was panting with anger as he listened. Paul, seeing this, drew him aside.

"I suppose you think she's right, don't you, Arthur?" he asked, quietly.

"Of course! If you were in your home and you saw German soldiers coming, wouldn't you shoot as many as you could?"

"Perhaps. But I'd expect them to take me out and shoot me, when they caught me, and burn my house. I wouldn't call them brutes and barbarians for doing it."

"But why? Isn't it war to attack the enemy?"

"Yes, if soldiers do it. Soldiers ought to fight soldiers. If women and men who aren't in uniform fight, they must expect to be attacked themselves. Listen, Arthur! If our soldiers were in Germany they'd have to do just what the Germans are doing here, to protect themselves. They'd have to frighten the people into playing fair, if it couldn't be done any other way. It isn't fair to hide and shoot a man who isn't expecting it, is it? At any rate, those are the laws of war. France and Belgium have agreed to them, and bound themselves by them, just as the Germans have done. So we can't complain if the Germans stick to the rules. Don't do anything foolish now. The Germans may be here any minute, if they're as close to us as these people say."

"I'll do whatever you say, Paul," Arthur agreed, finally. "But it doesn't seem sensible to me."

"It is sensible and right, believe me," said Paul, earnestly. "And I think we'll stay here, Arthur, for a little while, anyway. I believe there'll be a chance for us to do some good work here. If we can keep these poor people from acting so that the Germans will destroy their village it will be a good thing, won't it?"

"Ye—es, I suppose so. Yes, I can see that, Paul. Even if I think it's all wrong, I can see that the Germans are too strong. They can do whatever they like, whether it's right or not."

"That's one way to look at it," said Paul. "That's one of the things I hope to try to make them understand—that they'd better submit to injustice than lose their homes. Might makes right, though the Germans have a good excuse for acting in the way they do."

"Still I don't see what good we can expect to do, Paul. These people here don't know us, and I don't believe they'll pay any attention to anything we say," deep doubt written on his face.

"I think perhaps they will, Arthur. You see, we're in uniform and I'm hoping that they don't know anything about the Boy Scouts here. They may think our uniform means that we're connected with the army in some fashion, and respect it."

"I didn't think of that! I say, that would be rather good fun, wouldn't it?"

"Look!" said Paul, suddenly. "That's just what I was afraid of!"

A dozen men, in ill assorted and badly fitting uniforms, were coming from the inn that was the dominating feature, aside from the inevitable parish church, of the village.

"They belong to the civic guard," said Paul. "I'm afraid they are going to try to resist the Germans. Look at those guns!"

"They're the old-fashioned ones they used in the army years ago, aren't they, Paul?"

"Yes, and they'd be about as much good against the new German rifles as so many pea-shooters!"

The sight of the patchwork uniforms, worn by armed men, seemed to be a magnet for the panic-stricken inhabitants of the village. So far the people had been far too busy with their fears and their eagerness to save themselves to pay any attention to the two scouts, and so Paul and Arthur were able to attach themselves to the crowd and follow the civic guardsmen without exciting too much attention. There were curious glances at their uniforms, but Paul was well pleased by this. He wanted the people to notice their khaki suits, and he was glad that they seemed to be rather mystified.

The leader of the guardsmen was a big, burly man, by trade a butcher. Under his direction his men and a host of volunteer helpers proceeded to erect a barricade across the road by which, it seemed, the Germans must enter the village if they came. Old furniture, broken down wagons, mattresses—anything that came to hand was used in building the barricade. Then it was covered in front with branches of trees and bushes.

"There!" said the big butcher, when it was done to his satisfaction. "Now we can take up our place behind that—and God help the German pigs! Jean, do you and Marcel go up in the windows of Boerman's house, there, and make holes in the shutters to shoot through. If they drive us from this barricade we will take to the houses and the roofs, and do what we can from there."

A cheer greeted his speech.

"Now we shall be safe!" said one woman. "Ah, if they had had one like Raymond the butcher to show them how to fight, those poor people would not have been driven from their homes! He is a man!"

"I think so, too, Paul!" whispered Arthur. "It's something to make a fight like this, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is something," said Paul. "It's suicide, that's what it is! How long can they stand against the Germans? They will throw their own lives away and they won't save the village. Instead, they will simply make it certain that it will be destroyed. The Germans won't fight them on even terms. If they find that the place is to defended they'll bring a couple of guns into action! and shell the place. In five minutes every house will be on fire, and they will shoot down the men as they try to run from the flames. Wait! I'm going to see what I can do!"

Arthur did not seem to be convinced. But when Paul ran forward and stood before the crowd by the barricade, Arthur was by his side. He was like a good soldier, obeying his superior officer, as he felt Paul was, even though he neither understood nor approved the orders he received.

Now, indeed, the khaki uniforms of the scouts attracted their share of attention. There was a murmur of surprise; one or two lads laughed aloud. But the chief emotion of the crowd was one of curiosity. As Paul walked up to the big self-satisfied butcher, the noise behind the barricade died away.

"Are you the leader here?" asked Paul.

"Yes—chosen by the Garde Civique of the village of Hannay, in this time of danger!" announced the butcher, swelling up with pride.

"Then it is your duty to save the people entrusted to your care by ordering them to go to their homes and to stay there quietly if the Germans come," said Paul. "Also to call upon your guards and all others in the village to give up their arms and on no account to fire a shot against the Germans if they come."

"Eh?" said the astonished Raymond. "Is that the way to save the village from the Germans?"

"Is it not better to give in to them and know that no one will be hurt than to make it necessary for them to fire with their cannon? As for your men, they can do nothing here. If they want to serve their village and their country, let them enlist in the army."

"Eh?" said Raymond again. He was half angry and wholly puzzled. Paul did not defer to him at all; he spoke aggressively, and as if he were entirely sure of himself and of what he was saying. "Who are you, that you come here giving orders?"

"I'm giving no orders," said Paul. "I am only telling you what the government wishes. The Germans do not recognize the Garde Civique as soldiers at all. They are treated as spies, or as outlaws. Any man who bears arms against the Germans, or shoots at any German, will be shot as soon as he is caught."

Paul spoke purposely in a loud tone. He saw that his words were making an impression, not so much on Raymond as on some of the others.

"They won't make prisoners of war of you, you see," he said. "Those who aren't killed by the shells will be caught, and then they will be shot or hung. They won't be sent back to Germany, to be safe and sound, with plenty of food and a good place to sleep. They will be treated just like men who kill other men in time of peace, except that they won't have a trial."

"What of it?" asked Raymond, who was beginning to realize that this sort of talk was bad for his authority. "We can only die once for the Fatherland! Isn't that so?"

"Then die so that it will be of service for you to die!" said Paul. "Tear down your barricade. Give up your arms. And then let those of you who want to fight go to Huy and enlist. There will be plenty of fighting for you then, and if you are captured you will be treated like soldiers, and not like murderers and robbers. If you were not patriots you would not be willing to do this. Then why not do what will be useful?"

For a moment there was silence. Raymond stood still, his mouth open, staring at the two scouts. And then there came sudden aid for Paul. From behind the barricade a small, determined looking woman appeared. She marched straight up to Raymond.

"Give me that gun!" she said.

There was a titter and in a moment it had spread until it became a roar of laughter. Raymond the blusterer, wholly unnerved by the sudden appearance of his small wife, surrendered at once, and without conditions.

"Be off, the rest of you!" she said. "I daresay the young gentleman is quite right! As if you could fight against the Germans here!"

Raymond's wife had given the rest a cue. In a few moments the barricade was being dismantled. In five minutes peace reigned. And Raymond, entirely subdued now, came to Paul.

"Need we give up our arms?" he asked.

"You know what the Germans order," said Paul. "Perhaps they have no right to do so, but they have the strength to enforce their orders, and that is what counts, after all. Believe me, I would like to fight. But when there is no chance of winning, the wise soldier saves himself for a day when things will be more even. Look, there are the Germans coming now!"



CHAPTER XIV

SUBMISSION

It was true. A dozen Uhlans rode into the village, trotting along on their big, rawboned horses, as coolly as if they had been on parade in Berlin. Only these men did not look like parade soldiers. Their uniforms were of the neutral gray that faded into the background at short distances, and they were dirty and travel worn, besides. Their horses, however, were still in fine condition, for it was a part of their training to see to it, wherever they were, that their mounts were properly cared for.

The soldiers ignored entirely the few people who still remained outside their houses. Most of the villagers, impressed by what Paul had said, or, like Raymond, the blustering butcher, more afraid of their wives than of the foreign enemy, had gone within, and the place was very quiet. But those who had not gone in greeted the Germans with sullen looks, which did not provoke so much as a smile.

One of the Uhlans, evidently detailed in advance for the duty, produced proclamations and orders, like the ones the refugees had described. These he affixed to posts and buildings in conspicuous places. Then he joined his fellows, and the little troop rode on, with a clattering of hoofs to the mairie, the official centre of Hannay. There stood the maire, a small, spectacled, frightened man, with the parish priest to support him, waiting for them. Paul and Arthur drew near to listen.

"Which is the burgomeister?" asked a young lieutenant with closely cropped head and a tiny blonde moustache, which he had tried in vain to cultivate so that it would resemble the moustache that the German Kaiser's pictures have made famous. Paul noticed that this young officer spoke excellent French, with hardly a trace of an accent. It impressed him as showing how well the Germans had prepared for this war that apparently only they had known was bound to come.

"It is I," said the little man very promptly.

"Say 'Sir!' when you speak to a German officer!" thundered the lieutenant. "And salute! Tell all your people to do so, also."

"Yes, sir," said the maire. "But how are we to know it is an officer we see? We poor people do not understand all about your uniforms."

"If you are in doubt, salute every German soldier," said the officer contemptuously. "They are worthy of your salutes in any case, and it will be better for your people to salute a thousand soldiers without the necessity of doing so than to fail to salute one officer who is entitled to the honor."

"Yes, sir," said the maire, meekly.

"Hannay is occupied by the German army," said the lieutenant, then, smiling a little at the maire's timidity. Was he wondering if a German burgomeister would submit as tamely were it a German village that had witnessed the arrival of invading troops? Probably not! Few German officers in those days thought it possible that an enemy's foot would ever tread the soil of the fatherland. No such fear had yet assailed them.

"You and your people," the lieutenant went on, "must observe exactly the rules that are posted in the proclamations, especially with regard to arms. We shall not remain here, but other troops will arrive before nightfall. When they come all arms must be piled here, waiting for them. Five hundred loaves of bread, a hundred hams, twenty-five barrels of flour, five steers and ten barrels of wine are requisitioned, and must be turned over to the commissary department upon its order."

The maire threw up his hands in horror.

"But, sir, we are poor people!" he cried. "We shall starve if all those things are required of us! We shall not have enough for our own needs."

"That is your concern," said the German officer indifferently. "The German army must be supplied; it is delayed in Belgium because of the unwarranted resistance of the Belgian government to its peaceable passage."

"But—"

"Silence! No argument! You will provide the supplies that are required. In addition all gasoline in the place is to be collected and turned over to the proper authorities. Payment will be made for all private property that may be taken."

He barked out a sharp order then, and the Uhlans rode on. Paul turned to Arthur, whose eyes were blazing.

"Did you hear that?" he cried. "He talks as if we were to be blamed for defending ourselves! Is that the way the Germans mean to talk?"

"I suppose so," said Paul. "I have heard before that they would do that. They say, you see, that all they wanted was permission to send their troops across Belgium to reach France. Perhaps they really believed that we should not resist. If we had not, they would not have damaged the country, and perhaps if they had won in the war, they would have paid for whatever injury was done. But how absurd! If we had allowed that, without making any further attempt to stop them, we should really have been just as badly off."

"I don't understand that, Paul. I would rather see the whole country ruined than have it act so, but if we had made no resistance they could not have done things like this, could they?"

"No, perhaps not. But think a minute, Arthur. The French, then, would have come over the border on their side. The French and German armies would have met in Belgium, and neither would have considered our poor country. They would have fought in our fields, and seized our forts. Each would have bombarded our cities, and neither would have been our friend. Now, as it is, we are suffering for France, and France and her ally, England, must take our part. Perhaps they will not be strong enough to save us at once, but they will be obliged to stand by us, for the sake of their own honor."

"Yes, that is true. We shall have friends, at least. Oh, Paul, I suppose it was right not to attack those Germans, but when that officer spoke so, I could have tried to kill him with my bare hands!"

"He is a bully, Arthur. I suppose there are officers like that in every army. But all the Germans are not like him. You must remember that there are some, at least, like Colonel Schmidt who gave us our freedom after we had been caught. He was kind to us, and he would have been courteous here, had he been in the place of this lieutenant."

Now, when the Uhlans had gone, the people began to come out of their houses again. News of the demand that had been made upon Hannay spread rapidly, and after a little while there was a great deal of bustle and confusion as efforts were made to obtain what was required. The maire came to Paul and asked him what the Germans would do if the things were not provided.

"I don't know," said Paul. "And I think it would be better not to find out, if you can possibly get them. Have them ready, and then when the new force comes, see if the commander is not more reasonable than the officer who was here. But it is better to take no chances. And he said that they would pay."

"Yes, that is so," said the distracted little man. "Eh? Well, I suppose we had better do as you say. Our lives and our homes are worth more than the food to us."

But there were sullen, angry looks among the villagers as they went about their preparations. There seemed to be a revulsion of feeling in favor of the plan of resistance of Raymond, the butcher, and there were scowls for Paul, who had spoiled that plan.

"I think there is nothing more that we can do here," said Paul to Arthur. "Let's go on. It's just as important as ever for us to get somewhere where the information we have can be of use. Everything I see makes me more and more certain that the principal German attack will be delivered in this direction. And I am not sure that that is generally known yet. I heard officers in Liege, when we were waiting to see General Leman, say that the French were planning a great movement from Belfort, that they thought the Germans were likely to make a powerful attack from Alsace and Lorraine. If so, their information is wrong."

"But they must know by this time that the Germans are coming through Belgium instead, in great force, I should think."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. They may think it is a feint. It might be, too. You see, they are throwing out their cavalry. We saw a dozen Uhlans, but there must be two or three thousand dozen of them. They are like a great human screen, thrown in front of the army. A screen with eyes. They hide what is going on behind them from the enemy, but they themselves can see plainly."

"But even if it is true, I should think it might work both ways, Paul. If the French advance from Belfort, and the main body of the Germans is in this quarter, won't the French in Alsace win very easily?"

"Perhaps, just at the beginning. But this is the great danger. If the Germans could advance on this line without meeting any great resistance, they would be able to swing around and get in the rear of a French army that had crossed the border into Alsace, but the French army could not come into a position to threaten the rear or the communications of the Germans. There might be a great disaster. And just because it was believed that Germany would find the road through Belgium the quickest and the easiest for an invasion of France, some French and Belgian officers believed that if war came, Germany would only make a threat through Belgium, and would start her real attack on some other line."

"Well, we ought to give the information, whether it will be of any great use or not. It isn't for us to think about that."

"You're right there, Arthur! Let's slip away quietly. We have done these people here a great service, but they don't quite understand, and I think that instead of being grateful they're almost ready to be suspicious. Perhaps they think we were really trying to help the Germans."

So they slipped out of the village. If any of the villagers of Hannay noticed, they said nothing. They had enough to keep them busy and to occupy their minds, as well. They were learning that this war, of which they knew so little, was affecting them almost as much as if they were actually fighting.

Outside of Hannay, as they moved along toward the north the ground rose gradually, and the road brought them, in less than a mile, to the top of a hill that gave them an excellent view of the surrounding countryside. From Liege there still came the thunder of the big guns, but from other directions they gathered evidence that the fortress was no longer guarding the country. It was still holding out, and was undoubtedly keeping a great many Germans busy. But more Germans had swept around it, and the evidences of their activities were plain.

On all sides smoke was rising, marking burned farmhouses, even whole villages that for one reason or another had been given to the flames. They could see now the smoking ruins of the village whence the refugees who had really caused them to stop in Hannay had come, a scene of desolation that looked all the worse for the bright sunlight in which it was bathed. That same sunlight, too was reflected ever and again on tiny points of steel.

"Uhlans—the sun shines on their lance heads," explained Paul. He looked gloomily at the scene. "Ah, they will have to pay! Perhaps an enemy will cross the Rhine and carry fire and sword into their lands, too. I hope so—for the sake of the poor, homeless ones."

"But you said it was wrong for them to defend themselves—that the Germans had the right to do like that!" said Arthur, wonderingly.

"I said it was wrong for them to give the Germans an excuse to destroy their homes and kill their men," said Paul. "Wrong only because it is useless."

The descending road turned just below the crest of the hill on which they stood. And suddenly a bugle sounded, startlingly near. The two scouts had been so occupied in watching the country for miles about that they had given no heed to what might be going on close by. And so now while they stood in amazement and dismay, German soldiers began to appear over the hilltop, and in a moment they were surrounded by hundreds of the men whose uniforms were so familiar. It was a battalion of German infantry, and in a minute more they had been seized, and were being escorted to the rear, where in a few moments a burly major, plainly a soldier of the old school, and the commander of the battalion, questioned them.

They told their story plainly and truthfully, though they omitted, of course, all the incidents of the adventurous period between their discovery of the spy Ridder and their first capture.

"We are only doing what Colonel Schmidt told us to do, sir," said Paul. "We explained to him that we would try to reach Brussels, and after we got to Huy, we were compelled to come this way."

The major nodded.

"Pfadfinder, hein?" he said. This, as both Paul and Arthur knew, was what the Boy Scouts were called in Germany, just as in France and Belgium they were called Eclaireurs Francais or Eclaireurs Belges, as the case might be. "You can go no further this way. We shall take you to Hannay, and there you will have to stay for a time. No civilians are allowed at this time to leave their own villages. The whole country beyond here is a battleground, for we shall soon be in touch with the enemy on the way to Brussels. Still, you shall be safe enough. I have a boy of my own, who is a Pfadfinder with a troop in Eisenach."



CHAPTER XV

THE BUTCHER'S WIFE

Major Kellner was walking.

"I am saddle weary," he explained. "So I am walking for a time for a rest and a change, while they lead my horse. Walk with me, you young ones."

They found that Major Kellner, gruff as he was, was really an officer of the same kindly type as Colonel Schmidt, whom it seemed he knew very well.

"If Colonel Schmidt was satisfied to let you go, it is well," he said. "Now tell me what you have seen."

There was not much, of course, that they could tell him. He was not trying, it seemed, to extract military information from them, but wanted to know how the Belgian people felt about the war.

"We have nothing against your people," he said. "It is the stupid government that has caused all this trouble. Had King Albert submitted to the inevitable, his country would not have suffered. We do not wish to be harsh with the people."

"Then why are you burning their farmhouses and their villages everywhere?" asked Arthur, boldly. "Standing on the hilltop, we could see the smoke on all sides."

Major Kellner laughed.

"It is kind sometimes to be cruel," he said. "We have a great work to do, and whoever stands in our way must suffer. We want the Belgians to understand that if they do not oppose us, except with their armies, they will be spared. But we must make an example of those who fire at us treacherously, or who keep guns and other weapons after we have ordered them to be given up. If we are severe with those who have refused to heed the warning that we have given, it is so that the others will pay more attention. It is better to burn a few villages than to destroy your beautiful city of Brussels, is it not?"

"But why do either?" parried Arthur then.

"Because the lives of our soldiers must be guarded against the skulking murderers who hide behind a window and shoot when there is no chance for our men to reply. Our men take their lives in their hands when they go to war, and if they die on the field of battle, they die willingly because they know that it is for the Fatherland. So we must preserve them for that glorious death."

Arthur was silent. He was not convinced, but he felt that it would do no good to argue, and Paul, moreover, had managed to look at him, so that he understood that his chum and leader wanted him to be quiet.

When they came near to Hannay Major Kellner mounted his horse again, since he had to maintain his dignity when he was entering a captured place, however small it might be. He spurred his horse on and took his place at the head of the battalion.

"Now we're in a nice fix, aren't we?" said Arthur, disgustedly. "We're further from our own army than ever! Likely to stay, too!"

"I hope that we shall be able to get away from here soon, Arthur. I don't believe they'll hold us very long. And we're really in luck, I suppose. If there are German troops all around, others would have held us up, if we hadn't come on this detachment, and we've had proof for ourselves that all the officers wouldn't treat us as well as Major Kellner. Suppose it was that young lieutenant of Uhlans who had caught us?"

Arthur made a grimace.

"Ugh!" he said. "Yes, that's true! Or a detachment that had that man Ridder along! You're right, Paul. We might be a great deal worse off than we are! But I'll tell you one thing. When we come back into Hannay with the Germans, there will be a lot of people there who are sure that we have been in league with them from the beginning."

"I hope not," said Paul, looking troubled. "But I'm afraid you're right. They can't understand, of course. I don't blame them for feeling as they do. But it's rather hard, when I was only trying to do what would be best for them. And I believe we did save them from having a very bad time there. You see, these people have a couple of guns along. They're not very big, and they wouldn't make very much impression on a fortified place, but if they were turned on a defenseless village like Hannay, they would destroy it in a very few minutes."

In Hannay, as the battalion marched in, past the remains of the barricade, at which most of the men looked with a tolerant smile, the street was again deserted. Major Kellner rode straight up to the mairie, and Paul and Arthur could see that he was holding a conference with the maire. The battalion was halted and during this conference stood at ease. Then quick orders came back; never from the officers, but always, Paul noticed, from the non-commissioned officers, to whom the captains and lieutenants gave the commands.

Then the battalion split up. One company broke ranks and immediately swarmed through the village, looking curiously at everything, while the other marched on, passing out of sight before long in a cloud of dust. Major Kellner remained with the company that stayed behind, and Paul and Arthur, who were at liberty, seemingly, to wander about the village as they pleased, saw him looking for quarters in disgust. After a time he settled upon the house of the local doctor, and there he and the officers were soon at home. Meanwhile the men scattered themselves in the different houses of the place, two to each house, as a rule, though sometimes there were more.

"Why are they staying here, I wonder?" said Arthur.

"I don't know," said Paul, with a shrug of his shoulders. "But I suppose there will be fighting all along here if the Germans advance on Brussels. It's all done on orders from the staff headquarters, you see. If I knew what sort of a force was operating here, perhaps I could tell you. I think Liege is being attacked by one army corps—that's about forty-five thousand men, in three divisions. These men may be part of a division that is operating independently, or they may be getting their orders from the headquarters of a whole army."

"What do you mean by army? The whole German army?"

"No. You know roughly how they will divide their forces, don't you? An army has a certain work to do. It may be of almost any size—two hundred, three hundred, even five or six hundred thousand men. That is, from five to fifteen army corps. It has its own commanding general, who is responsible to the general staff. One plan that I've heard talked about as likely to be used by the Germans is to have two armies coming through Belgium, one through Luxembourg, one through Lorraine and one from the Rhine Valley. Then they would have one army in East Prussia and another in Silesia to fight against the Russians."

"I see. Paul, aren't you hungry? I am."

"So am I, now that you remind me of it! Let's see if we can't buy something to eat. I think we can, if the Germans haven't taken everything."

But now, as they went about trying to find someone to sell them food, they found that Arthur's fear as to the opinion the villagers had of them was justified by the facts. At first they met only excuses.

"I have had to give up all I can spare for the Prussians," they were told.

But finally, when they went to the shop of Raymond the butcher, hoping to buy some meat and cook it for themselves, they got plain speech.

"Go to your Prussian friends if you want food!" said Raymond, eyeing them angrily. "You will get none from any good Belgian in Hannay, I can tell you!"

"The Prussians are not our friends! They forced us to come back with them because they had forbidden everyone to travel in the direction we had taken," said Paul.

"Tell that to the gatepost!" said Raymond. "Be off with you! You fooled our people this morning, but now they know the truth."

And so Paul and Arthur faced the prospect of going hungry. They might have appealed to Major Kellner, who had shown himself inclined to be friendly toward them, apparently because his boy was, like them, a Boy Scout. But that neither of them would do.

"I'd rather go without than ask the Germans for anything!" said Arthur.

"So would I!" agreed Paul. "But I would like to get away from here."

That, however, proved to be impossible. Sentries were posted all about the village, and new notices had been added to those the Uhlans had posted earlier in the day, forbidding anyone to leave Hannay until permission was given by the officer in command of the German troops.

"I could laugh if it weren't so unpleasant!" declared Paul. "These poor people, whose village would be in ruins now except for us, think we have betrayed them! And the Germans would send us home as prisoners, if we were lucky, if they even guessed that it was because of us that they were kept from taking Liege in their first attack!"

"The only one who gave us so much as a friendly look was the wife of Raymond, the butcher," said Arthur, thoughtfully.

"Did you see that? So did I! I think perhaps he has got his courage back and has frightened her—but she was on our side this morning, too. Perhaps if we could see her alone, a little later, she would sell us some food. I tell you what we will do. We will watch to see if he does not go out, and then if the coast is clear, we will try her again."

"Yes. Paul, I shall never let them send a beggar away who asks for food if we ever get home! I know now how they must feel."

The two scouts were in no danger of starvation, of course, and they were plucky enough, as they had certainly proved, to be able to endure a little discomfort if it were necessary. But they suffered the more from their hunger because there was nothing for them to do. Until the Germans revoked the order that kept them from leaving Hannay, they could not make a move toward giving the proper authorities the information they possessed. And so they tried to be patient while they watched for Raymond to go out in the dusk that was now beginning to fall.

They saw him several times, when men came to his shop and went in to talk to him. And at last, when it was almost dark, he emerged, looking stealthily about him as he came into the street, perhaps for German soldiers. There were none near by. All save the sentries were gathered together about a great fire that they had built, and were singing while the busy camp cooks prepared their supper for them. This was the first time that Paul and Arthur had heard German troops singing. They were to learn, before long, that that was their usual custom when they were off duty.

Now, as soon as the butcher was well out of sight—he had gone, they noticed, in the direction of the barricade he had caused to be built—the scouts went quickly to his place and went in. There was one light placed by the door, but at first they could not see his wife. Then they heard the sound of someone sobbing, and called. It was the woman who had helped them in the morning.

"Oh!" she said, chokingly. "It is you! I hoped you would come—poor boys! Here is a parcel of bread and meat I hid for you. Oh, I am in such trouble!"

"Why? What is the matter?" asked Paul.

She trembled and for a moment seemed afraid to say more. Then she gathered her courage.

"It is Raymond," she said. "He has concealed some guns! He and some of the others mean to fire on the German officers!"

"But that is madness!" said Paul. "What good does he think that will do?"

"He says that the men, without their officers, will be terrified and will run away. He says it is an easy thing to do, since they think all our men are afraid of them."

"It ought to be stopped for their own sake, and for the sake of Hannay," said Arthur. "I thought Paul was wrong at first, but I can see now that he was not."

"Do you know their plans? Tell me all you know," said Paul quickly, in a tone of command.

"You will not—betray them to the Germans?"

"I am a Belgian," said Paul. "I shall try to save them and all in Hannay from the ruin that such a thing would mean. You may trust me."

"Then the guns are hidden in the cellar of Marcel's wine shop. They plan to get into the cellar from the back of the house, where there is a concealed door. Very late one of them is to raise an alarm—how I do not know. They expect the German officers to run out of the doctor's house, and then they will shoot them down. It will not be before midnight."

"Then there should be time enough to stop it," said Paul, with decision. "Thank you for your bread and meat, madame. Perhaps we shall repay you by saving your home and your husband's life. Come on, Arthur."

"What will you do, Paul?" asked Arthur, when they were alone.

"I don't know yet, Arthur. I want to see this wine shop. Then perhaps we can make up a plan together. It would be easy to tell the Germans, but they would burn the wine shop. And I do not want to tell them if there is another way."



CHAPTER XVI

THE WINE SHOP

In the wine shop, when they came to it, they found none of the men of Hannay. The German soldiers, off duty for a little while, had taken possession of the place, and the sound of their singing, which could be heard as soon as one came within a hundred yards of the place, showed that they were happy. The two scouts looked in as they passed the window. They saw the invaders there, looking less like soldiers than they had imagined German troops ever could look. A few of the men were resting their feet, having taken off their heavy hobnailed boots, and were sitting in their woolen socks. Some were playing cards; nearly all were smoking.

"It's safe enough," said Paul. "If we can find that back entrance, I think we can get into the cellar. The worst of it is that they may have a guard there."

It was Arthur who found the entrance to the cellar. He led the way down the stone steps, and they found themselves in a whitewashed vault, scrupulously clean, as are practically all Belgian houses from garret to cellar. There was a lantern, too, shedding a dim but most welcome light on the place, with its rows of casks and hogsheads.

"That's a piece of luck, that lantern," said Paul. "Only it shows something we'll have to look out for—that we may have a visitor any moment. Look over there, Arthur. There's a little space behind that row of barrels. If anyone comes we can hide there."

But Arthur had another idea. Before Paul could stop him, he sprang lightly up the stairs that led to the room above, whence the sound of the German soldiers came very plainly. He fumbled for a moment at the door before he returned.

"I thought I might find that," he said. "I've shot a bolt on the door. That will hold anyone who tries to come down for a few moments at least, and it will give us time to get out the way we came. We may wish to escape, you see."

"Good!" said Paul. "All right! Now let's try to find those guns."

But of guns or weapons of any sort they could find no trace. They looked behind all the barrels and casks and under every possible hiding place. They lifted some of the barrels, though to do so was a considerable task, and the result was the same.

"Perhaps they have chosen some other hiding place or else the woman did not really know, and only suspected," suggested Arthur.

But that explanation did not satisfy Paul. And in a moment he had an inspiration. At once he began trying to tip back the great hogsheads at one side of the vault. The third yielded easily, and he immediately pried off its top.

"Aha, here we are!" he said. "Look, Arthur! I noticed that some of these were empty, but I thought anything like a gun would rattle around inside. But do you see what they did? They have the guns here, but they're packed in with rags and sacking, so they can't move and make a noise."

"That was clever!" said Arthur. "I suppose they expected the Germans to make a search."

He drew out a gun, a shotgun with a sawed off barrel. The shortening of the barrel served a double purpose. It made it possible for the gun to be hidden in the barrel, and it made of it, also, at close range, a far more dangerous and formidable weapon than it had been in its original form.

"What are we to do with them? Where shall we hide them?"

"Nowhere. We shall put them back," said Paul. "When we have finished with them, that is. Here, let me show you!"

He took the sawed off shotgun, opened the breech, and in a moment had hopelessly shattered the firing mechanism.

"There, do you see? They'll find their guns—but they'll have trouble in firing them! That's better than taking them away, because it's so much safer."

"Oh, I should say so!"

They were busy for five minutes getting out the guns, of which there were only a dozen all told, breaking them and then putting them back. They left the place as they found it, and the guns themselves, moreover, would not immediately give up the secret of how they had been treated.

"I wonder if we can't find the ammunition?" said Paul, when they had finished their work with the guns. "Then we could really finish the job."

But the search for that proved vain. Though they looked everywhere they came upon no hidden store of bullets or powder. Nor had Paul really hoped that they would.

"They'd carry that with them, naturally," he said. "Well, it doesn't make much difference. We—"

On the word there was a noise outside. They stopped, listening. Down the steps by which they had entered came footsteps, and they first saw heavy boots and then a pair of stout legs come into the range of the lantern. For a moment they were rooted to the spot, and in that moment the rest of the descending figure came into view, and they saw that it was Raymond. In the same moment he saw them, and cried out sharply, fear and anger mingled in his voice. That ended the spell that had held them still. Arthur started a rush toward the newcomer, but Paul caught his arm.

"No! Upstairs!" he cried.

As he spoke, he seized the lantern from the hook where it hung, and swung it around, extinguishing the feeble flame at once. And then, as Raymond with a roar of rage started toward them, he flung the lantern straight at him. A cry of pain told him that his aim had been true, even in the darkness, and then he leaped up the stairs after Arthur, who was already fumbling at the bolt. In a moment they were through the door and had burst into the midst of the astonished soldiers in the taproom above.

For just a moment their sudden appearance caused excitement and confusion among the soldiers, who must have imagined that this was a surprise attack. But then some of the men, who had seen them talking with Major Kellner earlier in the day, recognized them and a shout of laughter went up.

"It is only those boys!" cried one soldier. "Here, you young ones, you must stay to supper, now that you have come!"

He seized Paul and forced him into a chair, while another did as much for Arthur.

"Come, landlord, your best for our guests!" cried half a dozen of the soldiers.

Marcel, the landlord, who evidently knew only too well what his cellar contained beside wine and beer, was staring at them with a white, panic-stricken gaze. But he turned to obey, none the less; he was in deadly fear, it was plain, of the boyish soldiers. They might be willing to jest now, but he knew that they were the same men who fought like devils, and if reports were true (which they were not!) cut off the hands of women and children.

He brought food, and one of the soldiers handed Paul a glass of wine.

"Now, then!" cried the German. "You shall drink a toast to the good Kaiser Wilhelm, who is now King of Belgium as well as of Prussia, and who will eat the first course of his Christmas dinner in Paris and fly to London in a Zeppelin for the second! Skoal!"

"Ja! Ja wohl! A toast to the Kaiser by the young Belgian!" cried some of the others.

Paul got up, the glass held firmly in his hand. His cheeks were blazing.

"I will give you a toast!" he cried. "To Kaiser Wilhelm! May he eat his Christmas dinner in Saint Helena, with the ghost of Napoleon to keep him company! And may King Albert and King George and the Czar and the president of France enjoy a dinner that shall be served to them in the palace of Potsdam!"

And then he flung down the glass, so that it was shattered on the stone floor, and the red wine ran over the white flags.

"And so say I and every other good Belgian!" echoed Arthur.

For a moment there was a stunned silence in the room. The German soldiers, aghast at such daring, stared with open mouths and wide eyes. And then there was an angry murmur, spreading from one man to another, as the enormity of Paul's daring sank in.

"He has insulted the Kaiser! He has dared to be disrespectful toward our Emperor! He has refused to drink to his health!"