The thought cheered them up wonderfully. It made it possible for them to bear the sight of Amiens, left without a single soldier of the republic, when they arrived.



CHAPTER XVIII

IN THE HANDS OF THE ENEMY

The days that followed the return of Frank and Henri to Amiens were busy but uneventful ones. They had found a few staff officers at the abandoned headquarters, including Colonel Menier, to whom they had made their report and turned over the automobile. He had thanked them heartily, having heard already of their work. And when he was told of the destruction of the Zeppelins he had embraced them both.

"We had heard already of that," he said. "Only of the burning of the ships, not of how it was done. You have done well for France, mes braves! Wait! You shall not find France ungrateful. I go to Paris from here, to make reports. I shall make one concerning you, to those in authority. And—who knows?"

He pinched their ears, that gesture loved of French soldiers since the days of the great Napoleon, of whom his officers said that when he pinched their ears he conferred an honor they valued more highly than the cross of the Legion d'Honneur.

After the departure of the last officers of the staff, Amiens took on a new aspect. The thunder of guns, even the rolling of rifle fire, was plainly to be heard now in the streets. In the distance—and not a great distance, either—the smoke of a dozen burning villages was to be seen to the north and east. It was so that the Germans marked their advance, steady, relentless. Henri exclaimed in fury at the sight.

"These barbarians of Germans!" he cried. "Burn and kill—and not soldiers alone!"

"It tears my heart-strings to see all this wanton destruction indulged in by the foe," said Frank. "What then must be the feelings of the French as they watch their villages being so ruthlessly burned! But some day, somehow, Henri, our chance will come and the French will sweep back into this territory, a victorious host. Not for long will it be in the power of our foe!"

Every day Amiens expected the incursion of the Germans, but day followed day and still the enemy did not come. Frank and Henri stayed in the Martin house alone. The servants had gone; Madame Martin had respected their fears of the Prussians, and had made other arrangements for them. So the two scouts camped out there, and Henri invited many of the other scouts to share their quarters in relays. The house was open, too, to any refugees who cared to use it, but by this time the country to the north that was in danger of German raids had been swept clear, and Amiens was no longer a gathering place. It was in itself too much exposed.

The smoke of burning villages rose now to the south, toward Paris. The retreat was still on, it seemed. And while they waited patiently, since there was nothing else to do, for the coming of the Germans, there was much work for the Boy Scouts to do. It was routine work now, very different from the exciting labors that had fallen to the share of Frank and Henri on the day of their trip to Le Cateau. When Henri became restless and impatient, as he sometimes did, Frank soothed him.

"We are still serving France," he said. "There are no more soldiers in Amiens. There are a few police, and those are old men, since the young gendarmes have gone to join their regiments. But Monsieur le Maire knows that he can call upon us."

The military authorities, before completing the evacuation of Amiens, had given strict orders that if the Germans came there was to be no resistance. And in order to enforce this rule, the mayor detailed the few remaining police and the Boy Scouts to make a house-to-house canvas, warning the citizens, and collecting all firearms that might be found. The scouts worked in pairs on this duty, and Frank and Henri always went together.

"In Belgium," one of them always explained, in making the demand that the arms be given up, "Louvain and other towns were destroyed, so that not one stone remained upon another. And always the Germans made the excuse that shots had been fired on their men from the houses. Here in Amiens we must save our cathedral and the other famous buildings. When the Germans come it will not be for long; soon they will be in retreat before the armies of France and England."

Many gave up their guns reluctantly. But nearly all did give them up, and whenever the scouts had reason to think that any were being concealed, they made a special report on the house, and policemen returned to make a search.

And this wise planning had much to do with saving the town. The Germans came at last. At first a single squadron of Uhlans, in command of a young lieutenant, rode in. Frank and Henri saw them passing their house and they mounted bicycles at once, and followed them.

"They've nerve," admitted Henri, reluctantly. "See with what arrogance they sit their horses! They might be riding into a German city instead of one in which everyone who sees them hates them!"

"Yes, they've nerve," agreed Frank.

There could be no question of the fact. The little squadron of troopers, almost swallowed up already in the crowd of curious ones who followed the slow movement of the horses, rode on, seemingly deaf to the mutters of execration that rose, especially from the women. Not a man turned his face from the front even to scowl at the townspeople. They rode on, eyes unswerving. Outside the Hotel de Ville they stopped. A bugler blew a fanfare, and Monsieur le Maire, in his robes of office, appeared on the steps. A great cheer from the people greeted him. He bowed gravely to the Uhlan lieutenant, who saluted stiffly.

"I demand the surrender of the town of Amiens, in the name of his Majesty the Kaiser and of the German Empire," said the lieutenant, in excellent French. "You, Monsieur le Maire, will consider yourself my prisoner. You will be held responsible for the conduct of the inhabitants. Any attack on German troops will be sternly punished. If the inhabitants of Amiens behave in a peaceable and orderly fashion they will not be harmed. Payment will be made for any private property required by our forces. A brigade of infantry will march in this afternoon. Quarters must be found for the troops, numbering nearly eight thousand men. You will be informed later of the requisition the town will be required to fill, in money and in supplies. For the present you are required to clear this square, where my men will remain."

The mayor bowed.

"My orders are to make no resistance," he said. "I bow to the inevitable, regretting that we are not permitted to defend ourselves to the death. Amiens will keep its faith. No attack will be made, since that would mean treachery. I will order the gendarmes and the Boy Scouts to clear the square."

Frank and Henri were of great assistance in doing this work, Frank taking the lead, since no patrol leader happened to be in evidence. They and the police soon drove the people back, and the Uhlans dismounted. There, in the public square, used as a market place, they proceeded to cook a meal, making a fire in the street. From the sides of the square the people watched them sullenly. But there was no demonstration, since both the police and the scouts had explained that anything of the sort was likely to mean the execution of the mayor, who was within the power of the enemy.

As soon as the public curiosity to see the hated invaders had been somewhat satisfied, the people were urged to go to their homes, and by mid afternoon the streets were deserted. Then began the entrance of the real force of occupation. At the head rode a general of brigade, a sombre, stern-eyed man, accompanied by his staff. And behind him marched thousands of green-gray German infantry keeping step with a marvelous precision. These men had been fighting hard, but they looked fresh and trim. And as they marched they sang, raising their deep voices in a splendid, thrilling chorus.

Fly, Eagle, Fly, they sang as they marched into town. And then they gave way to the magnificent hymn of Martin Luther, the battle song of the Protestant nations in the Thirty Years' War, the battle song of Prussia ever since that time, A Mighty Fortress Is Our God!

Henri watched them as they marched by, tears in his eyes. Finally he could suppress the thought no longer, and he turned to Frank with:

"They have said that Germany has fine soldiers, but they are not like our men! There's all the difference in the world between them—and that difference will bring victory to our banners. Our men fight for right; these men fight because they think it their duty."

"Even though they are the foe, I hope there will be no shooting at them here. If there is, they will show no mercy, I am sure of that," said Frank.

"Amiens has pledged its honor," replied Henri quietly. "They are safe here. Will they harm Monsieur le Maire? Oh, do you think they will harm him?"

"No, I think not if there is no resistance offered. I wonder if any will be quartered at your house, Henri?"

"I hope not," said Henri, flushing.

A change, as it turned out, was made in that plan. The general in command of the brigade, who proclaimed himself within an hour of his arrival as military governor of Amiens, decided to keep his men under canvas. Tents sprang up like mushrooms in the parks and open spaces. Amiens was required to furnish great quantities of foodstuffs—bread, flour, wine, meat. But the troops were not quartered in the houses. And by nightfall the town seemed to have settled down peacefully to the new conditions. German aeroplanes were flying constantly overhead; officers came in, and more troops.

"Amiens is again the headquarters of an army corps," said Frank. He was suffering almost as keenly as Henri, but he did not mean to let his chum brood upon the disaster that had overtaken his home. And, after all, it might have been worse. He thought of Louvain and other Belgian cities.

That night Amiens was a German city. Trains passed through continually now, bearing troops; some, returning, carried wounded, whose groans resounded in the silence. And in the distance to the south, toward Paris, the roar of guns seemed louder again.



CHAPTER XIX

RECOGNITION!

Even the enemy, the hated Germans, found that the Boy Scouts were useful. There was constant danger of an outbreak, and the Germans had no desire to destroy Amiens. Had they been attacked from the houses, they would have lost heavily; in house-to-house fighting civilians, battling at close range, can inflict great damage on the best of regular troops. Such an outbreak would have meant the killing and the wounding of hundreds of German soldiers. The punishment would have been terrible, indeed, but that would not have brought a single Prussian back to life—a single Bavarian, rather, since these were Bavarian troops.

The Boy Scouts served as intermediaries between the Germans and the French civil authorities. They carried messages, and, at the order of the mayor, they submitted themselves to the orders of the German staff when it was necessary to explain a new decree to the citizens. They had many other things to do, also. It was largely the scouts who saw to the gathering of the supplies requisitioned by the Germans. The enemy had been inexorable in this respect; they set a definite time limit for the filling of every requisition they made, and it was well understood that drastic measures would be taken were they not satisfied.

Each day a new group of hostages was taken into the Hotel de Ville, now occupied as headquarters by the German staff, rather than the buildings formerly used by the Second Corps d'Armee of France. These hostages, it was explained, would be shot at once if orders were not obeyed or if Germans were attacked. There were many irksome rules. Every citizen was required to salute a German officer whenever he saw him. Lights must be out at a certain hour each night, and after that hour any citizen found in the streets without a permit was liable to arrest and execution without trial. They were under martial rule.

But always the sound of heavy firing in the southeast continued.

"I really believe the great battle is being fought at last, Henri!" said Frank. "We have heard that firing now for three days. It comes from the direction of the Marne. There is another thing. Since yesterday no troop trains have gone south through Amiens."

"But empty trains go through!" cried Henri. "And they come back, loaded with German wounded! You are right, Francois! We have begun to drive the Prussians back to the Rhine!"

News they had none. All Amiens was cut off from the world. Whatever the German invaders knew they kept strictly to themselves. It was only by such inferences as they could draw from the sound of firing in the direction of Paris and by the passage of trains through the city that they were able to form any opinion at all.

"I feel sure that there's a real battle going on," said Frank. "The firing is too heavy and too continuous for a rear guard action. But as to who is winning, we can't tell. Sometimes the firing seems to be a little nearer again, but that might be because of the wind. And as for the trains that are going through, that doesn't really mean anything. They might have decided to send troops to the front by another railway. They control the line through Rheims, too."

But the morning after they had decided that there was no real way to tell what was happening, something definite did come up. Nearly all the troops in Amiens moved south. Only a few hundred remained, enough to garrison the town and control the railway, since there seemed no danger of an allied raid. But the fact that the other troops were being sent up to the front indicated that the fighting was assuming a character far more desperate than the Germans had expected.

"They must be fighting on the line of the river Marne," said Frank. "You see, during that long retreat, there was time to entrench there. And open field entrenchments seem to be better than fortified places. Look at how quickly Namur fell, when everyone thought it would hold the Germans back for days."

"The country there is difficult, too," said Henri. "My father said once that it was there that the garrison of Paris should have fought first in 1870, instead of waiting inside the forts for the Prussians to come."

"I think that everything favors us now, for the first time," said Frank. "The Germans have been winning—they have made a wonderful dash through Belgium and France. They must have got very close to Paris. I believe the roar of guns is as easy to hear in Paris as here. And then, suddenly, when they think they are to have it all their own way, their enemy turns and faces them, and holds them. That much we may be sure of. The battle has been raging now for four days at least, perhaps for five. And the firing has certainly not gone further away. Even if we are not gaining, it is a gain if the Germans cannot advance."

They were glad now that they were busy. A few refugees from the south were coming, driven back by the Germans. Perhaps they would rather have tried to reach Paris, but the battle stopped that. And always there were errands to be run, and messages to be carried. It went against the grain to obey the orders of German officers, and to be obliged to salute these officers whenever they were encountered, but it was necessary. And the scouts of Amiens, when they knew what their duty was, did it, no matter how unpleasant it might be.

Now the troops who formed the garrison of Amiens changed almost daily. Older men were now in the tents, and some young boys.

"The last classes of their reserves must have been called out," said Frank. "These are not first line troops that are up, but the ones who are supposed to guard lines of communication and to garrison interior fortresses."

There were times when more officers than men seemed to be in the town. Amiens seemed to be used as a point where shipments of supplies and of ammunition for troops at the front were concentrated and diverted to the various divisions at the front. This involved the presence of a great number of officers of the commissariat department, who seemed to work night and day.

Men fight best on a full stomach, and the Germans understood this thoroughly, and saw to it that their soldiers did not have to go into battle hungry. Amiens also formed the headquarters of one branch of the German flying corps. Here aviators in great numbers were present constantly. Damaged monoplanes and biplanes were brought back for repairs. And it was this fact that brought a startling experience to the two scouts. For one day, as they rode on their bicycles on an errand through the square before the Hotel de Ville, they were arrested by a sudden fierce shout. An officer ran out toward them, his face distorted with anger. And Frank, with a sinking heart, recognized him as the man who had fired at Henri on the night they had burned the Zeppelins.

"Arrest that boy!" he cried, pointing to Henri. "He is a spy! He is a French, spy, I say!"

For a moment Frank hesitated. Then he rode away, leaving Henri to his fate. He looked back, to see two Germans holding his chum.



CHAPTER XX

A DESPERATE GAME

Frank had sped away because he was afraid that the officer might recognize him in a moment also. And yet it was not fear, in the sense that he was fearful of what might happen to him, that led him seemingly to abandon his comrade. It was the knowledge that were he too a prisoner, there would be no hope for either of them. He knew how the Germans must have regarded the destruction of the Zeppelins. It was a blow that might prove, when the final accounting was made, to have cost them the success of the invasion of France. And he had no illusions as to the fate of those who might be proved to be responsible for that.

Technically, they had not acted as spies when they had played the daring trick that had resulted in such a disaster to the German cause. But they had been non-combatants, civilians, and by the laws of war the civilian who takes active measures of any sort against the enemy is liable to death. The German army enforced this rule strictly and invariably. Neither age nor sex was a reason for sparing one who had violated it. A woman spy, a boy of fifteen who fired at Germans, would alike be made to face a firing squad.

No. If he and Henri were caught, and this officer, who had already shown his venomous hate for them, was their accuser, they would never live to see the German defeat for which they prayed. Frank hoped that Henri would understand, that he would know that he had taken to flight because it afforded the only chance of saving him.

Frank had reasoned quickly. He had been sure that the next move of the German officer would have been to denounce him also. But while the German officer had had a good look at Henri on the night of the Zeppelin disaster, he had not seen Frank. Frank had been in the shadow when the officer had tried to murder Henri; he had taken the German by surprise, and stunned him. And so there was no way in which the German could know him again, unless he saw him with Henri and so leaped to the conclusion that he must also have been with him on the night of disaster.

By that process of reasoning Frank argued that he might remain free to go about the town. The Germans had come to trust the Boy Scouts, understanding that their honor was pledged when they gave their word, even to an enemy. Some of the restrictions applying to the other citizens of Amiens did not restrain them. They were allowed to be on the streets after the hour of curfew, for one thing. And between the scouts and a good many of the German privates and younger officers a relation almost friendly had been established. Frank, for instance, was welcomed at one Bavarian mess, which contained several soldiers who had studied at English schools, and liked a chance to air their knowledge of the English tongue. He hoped to gain some information in this way.

Nor was he wrong. His friends had heard of the arrest of Henri, who, like Frank, was popular with them. And it turned out that they had little use for the officer who had caused the arrest. He was known as a tyrant who had more than once during the campaign shot down his own men for slight breaches of discipline. Frank learned that he had been degraded for the destruction of the Zeppelins, for which he had been held responsible. His superiors had scouted his story of two boys who had burned the dirigibles, and had assumed that he had been careless.

Therefore Frank found it easy to discover where Henri was confined. He was to be tried by court-martial early in the morning, and for the night he was in a room on the ground floor of the Hotel de Ville.

"He's only a boy," said a Bavarian corporal. "No need to guard him closely. Even if he escaped, where could he go? Our men are everywhere."

Frank smiled to himself. He had made a discovery a day or two before that had not escaped his mind. That afternoon he managed to make certain preparations unobserved. And when night came he was ready to hazard his own liberty, and his life, if that should prove to be necessary, in an attempt to rescue Henri. He knew the room in which Henri was confined. It was on the side of the Hotel de Ville that overlooked the river. No sentries were posted there, and it was easy for Frank to get to a spot directly underneath Henri's window. The other bank of the river was well guarded, and that was why no sentries watched the side on which was the town hall. It was argued, Frank supposed, that anyone escaping must attempt to swim the river and that when they tried to climb the other bank it would be easy to find them.

In principle, too, that was a good idea. What it did not take into account was the discovery that Frank had made—and kept to himself.

It was just before midnight when he began a faint tapping at Henri's window. He used a light bamboo cane, tipped with soft cloth, so that the sound, audible to anyone in the room, would not carry more than a few feet. And he tapped out his signal in the Morse code very slowly, knowing that Henri would hear and understand.

In a few moments there was the sound of the window opening very gently. And then Henri slipped down beside him, taking the short drop by hanging from the window with his hands. He seized Frank's hand.

"I knew you would try to help me," he whispered. "But I had better go back. We cannot escape. There are sentries on the other bank of the Somme. They would catch us together, and you would be a prisoner, too."

"Follow me," said Frank. "Take off your shoes. Drop quietly into the water—make no sound of a splash. Swim after me. I shall show you something you do not expect to see."

Frank slipped into the water. Both boys were expert swimmers, and Frank, leading the way, slipped along in the deep shadow, without a sound. Henri swam after him. At last Frank stopped and whispered to Henri.

"You see this buttress? Dive just beyond it, and swim under water for ten feet. Put up your hands then, and rise. There will be room."

At once he dived and disappeared, and Henri followed. When they came to the surface they were in a dark, damp hole, that smelled of slime and filth. But in a moment Henri felt steps, and then there was a faint light that illuminated a vault full of water. And, to his wonder, he saw a boat, covered, except at one end, with a dark cloth.

"In with you!" whispered Frank. "Under the cloth, and lie still!"

Frank followed when Henri had obeyed. And then the boat began to move in a direction different from that by which they had entered the vault.

"I am pushing it with my hands along the wall," explained Frank, still in a whisper. "That will bring us to the opening—the smallest possible that would allow the boat to pass into the stream. Then the current will carry us down. I have a rudder, that will hold us in the shadow of the left bank through all the turns. It is a chance—the only one we had. If all goes well, we shall drift down below the city and be safe!"

Soon they were caught in the current of the Somme. There followed a time of terrible and desperate trial and terror. At every shout they heard they thought they had been discovered. Never did they dare to raise their heads to look out. Their chance was a double one, but of the faintest, at best. Perhaps they would not be seen at all; perhaps, even if the boat was seen, no sentry would consider it worth remark.

For hours they drifted, unable to tell how far they had gone. Frank, guessing their distance by the time it had taken a piece of wood to float a certain distance during the afternoon, had hoped to be well beyond the city when daylight came. But he had not been certain.

Gradually a faint light crept through the dark, stifling cloth. The temptation to raise it and look out was terrible. But they resisted, speaking only occasionally in whispers. With every minute that passed their chance for success grew greater. And yet at the last minute they might be caught.

At last there could be no doubt that the sun was up, and that there was full daylight. And then, suddenly, there was a sharp tug at the boat. With a groan Frank started up, and Henri too.

And what they saw was an amazed French peasant, and all around the smiling country below Amiens, which was far behind!



CHAPTER XXI

VIVE LA FRANCE!

The peasant listened in amazement to the story that they told him. But he was a real Frenchman, out of the army because of his age.

"Come with me," he said. "You shall have the best there is in my house—it is not much! Dry clothes, too. If you will wear a peasant's blouse, there are the clothes my Jean left when he went to the war!"

"We have clothes in the boat," said Frank. "Until we knew we were safe we dared not change into them. But your food will be more than welcome!"

So it proved, indeed. It was rough fare, but it seemed to both the best that they had ever tasted. And while they ate, the peasant told them what news he had.

"We hear that the French and the English are winning now," he said. "A gentleman came past my house in an automobile this morning, and said that he had passed French troops ten miles away—cuirassiers riding this way."

"Hurrah!" cried Frank. "Henri, we must try to join them as quickly as possible. When we explain they will let us go through to where we shall be safe until we can go back to Amiens. Come on! Farewell!" This to the peasant. "We shall never forget your good food and your welcome!"

And with light hearts they set out, glad to walk, since it gave them a chance to stretch the legs that had been cramped for so many hours in the bottom of the boat.

Plainly there had been a great change in the character of the battle over night. The heavy thunder of the guns was greatly reduced in volume, though they should still have been able to hear it. And it was unmistakably coming from further north. It must be that the Germans were retreating. But they walked for three hours before they knew for certain that they were right.

They did not meet the cuirassiers of whom they had heard. Instead a cloud of dust that they saw for two miles before men emerged beneath it turned out to be a column of French infantry. They were in their Boy Scout uniforms, and the men who first saw them at the side of the road cheered them. Soon a captain came up to them.

"Eh bien, mes enfants!" he said. "What do you do here? Where do you come from!"

They told him Amiens, and he laughed.

"And it is there, precisely, that we are going!" he laughed. "The Germans are out by now and our men were in there an hour ago!"

Frank and Henri cried out in delight at the news.

"May we go with you?" asked Frank. "We would like to go back as soon as possible."

"As to that you must ask the colonel. He will decide—and, see, here he comes now in his automobile! I will report to him that you are here."

But there was no need, for the officer who sat in the car was Colonel Menier himself, and at the sight of them he laughed aloud.

"Ah, my brave ones!" he cried. "So you are here! Ride with me! Did the Germans drive you from Amiens? I shall drive you back!"

They obeyed that order with delight. They sprang to their places in the car.

"Now tell me everything!" said Colonel Menier. "How it is that you left Amiens and how you came here?"

He leaned over first, however, and spoke to his driver, and the car shot forward, leaving the troops far behind.

And then they began the story, each telling the part of it that he knew best. At the story of how the German officer had recognized Henri and caused his arrest, he clenched his hand angrily.

"They make war even on boys!" he said, bitterly. "A brave enemy recognizes the heroism of his foes. If I had been in that man's place I should have forgotten my own defeat and praised those who had caused it!"

Then came the story of Frank's discovery of the hidden vault and the boat, and of their voyage down the Somme and their lucky escape.

"Milles tonnerres!" he cried. "A thousand million thunders! That was well done! Through all the German sentries! Eh, well, I have a surprise for you when you reach Amiens with me, I think. Mind, I make no promises! Only wait!"

Slow as had been their flight from Amiens, their return was swift. Already they were in the outskirts. From every window hung the tricolor. Everywhere the people were mad with delight. The Germans had gone. At the sight of Colonel Menier's uniform women leaned from their windows, shrieking their joy.

In the town itself French troops were everywhere, marching through. Guns thundered along, and there were English troops as well as French. Amiens was in holiday mood. Straight through the cheering crowds the car sped on. It drew up at last before the Hotel de Ville. Sentries stood at the main door, but at the sight of Colonel Menier they saluted and gave him free passage.

Inside Colonel Menier spoke to a staff officer, who smiled and went into a room at the side. In a moment he returned.

"The general will receive you, my colonel," he said.

"Good!" He turned to Frank and Henri. "You are to meet the greatest man in France," he said. "Allons!"

They followed him into the room. By the window stood a man, not tall, but large rather than fat. He turned quiet eyes toward them. Colonel Menier saluted.

"Monsieur le General Joffre," he said. "I have the honor to present the Boy Scouts of whom you have heard—they who served General Smith-Derrien so well and who destroyed the Zeppelins near Abbeville."

"These are the ones?" said the general. "In the name of France, I thank you! And in the name of France, and by order of His Excellency the President of the Republic, I hereby decorate you! For each, the cross of the Legion of Honor! Which is Francois Barnes?" glancing from one to the other.

Frank stepped forward. General Joffre took the cross from his own breast and pinned it to Frank's. Then he turned to another officer, and received another cross from him. And this he affixed to Henri's breast. For a moment they were overcome. And then together they cried:

"Vive la France!"

* * * * *

Transcriber's Notes:

Obvious punctuation errors have been repaired.

One instance each of LaFere and La Fere have been retained.

THE END