Remembering that they had crossed the Meuse the night before, Kenneth
steered to the left until he sighted the river, then deflected
southward, and followed its course, keeping on the side of the left
bank.
There was no means of telling at what point he would cross the northern
frontier of Belgium. Ascending to a great height, in order to escape
shots from either Belgian or Dutch frontier guards, he soon discovered a
town of some size extended on both banks of the river. This could only
be Maestricht. Within twenty minutes of passing this he came in sight
of a much more considerable town through which the river flowed spanned
by several bridges.
"Better land now," shouted Granger, "or they'll be taking shots at us
from the forts. This is Liege."
Almost before he had finished speaking the monoplane began to rock like
a ship at sea, and Kenneth had to exert his utmost skill to preserve its
equilibrium. A shell had burst a few hundred yards below them. Some
seconds later they heard the dull thunder of the gun's discharge.
Clearly it was no longer safe to continue the southward course. Kenneth
swerved to the right, and making a steep vol plane, swooped into the
cornfield of a farmhouse close by the high road.
The people of the farm, at the sight of the German uniforms, fled
precipitately for shelter. Already "the terror of the German name" had
become a by-word in the countryside.
"We are in hot water, I'm afraid," said Granger. "Strip off your coat;
you're all right underneath."
Kenneth had hardly taken off his coat and helmet when there was a sound
of galloping horses. A dozen Belgian mounted infantrymen dashed up the
road, leapt the low wall of the farm steading, and shouted to them to
surrender. Granger whipped out his pocket handkerchief and waved it in
the air. The Belgians dismounted, and part of them advanced, the
lieutenant at their head with revolver pointed, the men covering the
fugitives with their rifles.
"You are our prisoners," said the officer in bad German.
"Charmed, my dear sir," replied Granger in excellent French. "Contrary
to appearances, we are not Germans, but Englishmen."
"Ah bah!" snorted the lieutenant. "You wear German uniforms."
"L'habit ne fait pas le moine," said Granger with a smile. "The fact is
as I state it: we are Englishmen who have escaped from Cologne."
"The aeroplane is German," the officer persisted.
"We commandeered it, there being no English machine available. Unluckily
we have no papers on us to prove our nationality; they were taken from
us by the Germans who arrested us as spies."
"Bah!" said the lieutenant again. That two Englishmen arrested as spies
should have been able to escape on a German monoplane laid too great a
strain upon his imagination. "You are my prisoners. Hand over your
arms."
Granger at once gave up the revolver, and Kenneth allowed himself to be
searched. The officer rummaged the aeroplane for plans and other
incriminating documents, then ordered two of his men to mount guard over
it, and marched the prisoners through the farmyard to the road, under
the gratified glances of the farm people at their windows. Kenneth
carried his policeman's uniform.
After walking about a mile, they came to a regiment encamped in a field
beside the road. The lieutenant led his prisoners to the commanding
officer, and explained the circumstances of their capture.
"You say you are English?" he said, scanning the two men.
"I assure you that is the truth," replied Granger. "We were both
arrested as spies in Cologne, but by an ingenious stratagem of my friend
here we obtained possession of a German aeroplane, and are delighted to
find ourselves in Belgian territory, among a friendly people."
"You speak very good French."
"Which is not to our discredit, I hope," said Granger with a smile.
The Colonel was plainly even more incredulous than his subordinate. A
man who spoke such good French must be a German spy! He took up the
receiver of a field telephone. Ascertaining that an aide de camp was at
the other end of the wire he said:
"Two men, one in police, the other in military uniform, German, have
landed from a Taube monoplane west of Liers. They say they are English,
but they are clearly German spies. I await orders."
The prisoners, who had heard all, watched his face grimly set as he held
the receiver to his ear.
"It's extraordinary, the persistence of a fixed idea," said Granger in a
low tone to Kenneth. "If he heard us speaking English I suppose he
would take it as a clinching proof that we are Germans! The uniforms,
our salvation in Cologne, are here our damnation."
"They'll send us to the General, won't they? He won't be such an ass."
"We shall see."
A few minutes passed. Then the look of blank expectancy on the
Colonel's face gave way to a look of satisfaction. He laid down the
receiver.
"Shoot them!" he said laconically, turning to the lieutenant.
Granger smiled at Kenneth, whose cheeks had gone red with indignation
rather than pale from fear.
"What rot!" said the boy.
"I said I should die in my boots," remarked Granger. "My fate has been
hanging over me these ten years. But there's a chance for you. Why not
tell them about the bridge?"
"They'd only think I was funking, and wouldn't believe me. I won't do
it."
They were led away towards a clump of trees on the outskirts of the
camp. The lieutenant was selecting his firing party. A crowd of
troopers, some in uniform, others in their shirt sleeves, came flocking
around. One or two officers moved more leisurely towards the scene.
Suddenly one of these started, and hurried forward with an exclamation
of surprise.
"Mon Dieu, it's you, Ken!" he cried, seizing Kenneth's hand.
"Hullo, Remi," said Kenneth, his face lighting up. "Just tell your
colonel I'm not a German, will you?"
"Of course I will. And your friend?"
"As English as I am. This is my pal, Remi Pariset," he said to Granger.
"I am delighted to meet you," said Granger, bowing, "even though our
acquaintance should prove of the shortest."
Pariset, asking his fellow lieutenant to delay, ran to the Colonel, and
returned immediately with him.
"I beg a thousand pardons, gentlemen," said the Colonel. "I am
desolated at the injustice I have unwittingly done you. Pray accept my
apologies."
"Not at all, Colonel," said Granger. "Appearances were against us. You
were quite justified in your suspicions; it was our misfortune that we
couldn't change our dress on the way.... I've had many a close shave,"
he added in an undertone to Kenneth, "but was never quite so near my
quietus."
"I was feeling rather rummy," Kenneth confessed: "a queer feeling, not
exactly fear; a sort of emptiness."
When the troopers learnt the truth, they broke into cries of "Vivent les
Anglais! Vive l'Angleterre!" and the prisoners found themselves the
idols of the camp. They were invited to join the officers at lunch, and
ate with good appetites, having had no food but rye bread and beer since
the previous midday. The officers drank their health with hilarity when
Granger had related the trick by means of which they had escaped from
Cologne, and Kenneth was toasted with embarrassing fervour.
"The bridge! That will be a clincher," whispered Granger in his ear.
Kenneth's French was not so good as his German, but he managed, even
though haltingly, to convey to his interested auditors the gist of the
scheme he had overheard. The officers were much concerned. None of
them was able to identify the place from the bare description which was
all that Kenneth could give them. The bridge was clearly not in the
line of the Germans' probable advance; its destruction could only be
meant to assist them. But the clues, slight though they were, must be
followed up, and the Colonel declared that he would communicate with
headquarters about the matter.
After lunch he took Kenneth aside.
"I gather that you have not known your companion long?" he said.
"That is true," replied Kenneth. "I met him for the first time
yesterday."
"You will pardon me, I am sure. Lieutenant Pariset's voucher for you is
sufficient; but in such times as these I should not be doing my duty if
I allowed Mr. Granger to be at large without enquiry. Will you explain
that to him, and ask him to give me a reference to a British authority?"
"Certainly. I am sure you will find things all right."
"The dear man!" laughed Granger when Kenneth told him this. "He needn't
have been so careful of my feelings as to ask you to break it to me.
I've no doubt I can satisfy him."
He mentioned the name of an official high in the British Foreign Office.
"A telegram to that address will bring me a character," he said.
"Meanwhile I am out of work, and a sort of prisoner on parole. I am
sorry, because I fear it means that we shall be separated for a time.
You, I suppose, will want to be up and doing."
"Yes. I've talked things over with Pariset, and he wants me to go with
him in his aeroplane in search of that bridge. But we'll meet again
before long. I'm jolly glad we came across each other."
They shook hands cordially and parted.
Meanwhile Lieutenant Pariset had been in consultation with the commander
of the Belgian Flying Corps. It had been decided that Pariset,
accompanied by Kenneth, should make a reconnaissance in his aeroplane
along the railway lines with a view to discover the bridge that was
threatened. The German monoplane, though faster than his own, was
discarded: it would certainly have been fired upon as it crossed the
Belgian lines. There was no clue as to the direction in which the
bridge lay, whether north, east, south or west of Liege. But it seemed
certain that the Germans would not wish to blow up any bridges on the
east. They would rather preserve them, in order to facilitate their
advance. It was more probable that the bridge in question was on a
section of the railway by which reinforcements, either French or
Belgian, might be despatched to Liege. It was therefore decided to
scout to the west and south.
Early in the afternoon Pariset and Kenneth started, working towards
Brussels by way of Tirlemont and Louvain. Kenneth had been provided
with field-glasses, through which he closely scanned every bridge and
culvert, while Pariset piloted the machine. Flying low, they were able
to examine the line thoroughly. All that Kenneth had to guide him was
the knowledge that the bridge was near a mill. There was a tunnel
between them. It was therefore pretty clear that the bridge and the
mill could not be far apart.
They flew over the main line as far as Brussels without discovering any
bridge that fulfilled the conditions. Then they retraced their course
and scouted along the branch lines running south from Louvain, Tirlemont
and Landen respectively. Within a few hours they had examined the whole
triangular district that had Brussels, Liege, and Namur at its angles.
At Namur they descended for a short rest, then set off again, to try
their luck on the lines running from the French frontier.
Both felt somewhat discouraged. To trace the many hundreds of miles of
railway that crossed the country between the Meuse and the Somme
promised to be work for a week. Indeed, it was getting dark by the time
they had run through the coal-mining and manufacturing district between
Mons and Valenciennes. Alighting at the latter place, they heard that
great numbers of German troops had already crossed the Belgian frontier,
and the forts of Liege were being attacked. There was much excitement
in the town, and Pariset had some difficulty in getting petrol to
replenish his tanks.
Next morning they set off early along the line running eastward through
Maubeuge to Charleroi. It seemed unlikely that they would find the spot
they sought in the midst of a manufacturing district, but if they were
to succeed, nothing must be left untried.
Towards ten o'clock they were crossing a stream to the south-east of
Charleroi when Kenneth suddenly gave a shout. He had noticed on the
stream a water-mill, between which and a larger river, apparently the
Sambre, the railway crossed the stream on a brick bridge of four arches.
The mill was at least two hundred yards from the bridge, a distance that
seemed too great to have been tunnelled; but it was the first spot he
had seen that in any way conformed to the particulars he had overheard,
and it appeared worth while to examine the place more closely.
The importance of the bridge was obvious. Its destruction would
seriously delay the transport of any French troops that might be sent
northwards to support Namur or Liege, and correspondingly assist the
Germans in an attempt to take either of those towns by a coup de main.
At Kenneth's shout Pariset turned his head, understood that some
discovery had been made, and nodded. He did not at once prepare to
alight. If Germans were in possession of the mill they would notice the
sudden cessation of the noise of the propeller, which they must have
heard, and might take warning from the descent of the aeroplane in their
neighbourhood. Luckily he had been flying low, so that the course of
the machine could not be followed for any considerable distance. Having
run out of sight beyond a wood, he selected an open field for his
descent, and alighted a few hundred yards from a farmhouse.
"Have you found it?" asked Pariset eagerly.
"I saw a mill and a railway bridge," replied Kenneth; "but we were going
too fast for me to be sure it's the right place."
"Well, we shall have to find that out. We'll get the farmer to help us
run the machine into his yard, and then reconnoitre."
The farmer and a group of his men were already hurrying towards them. In
a few words Pariset enlisted their help. The aeroplane was run into the
yard, and placed behind a row of ricks that concealed it from the
outside.
"We should like some bread and cheese and beer," Pariset said to the
farmer. "May we come in?"
"Surely, monsieur," was the reply. "Come in and welcome. Ah! these are
terrible times. I don't know how long I shall have a roof over my head.
But they say the English are coming to help us. Is that true?"
"Quite true. My friend here is an Englishman."
"Thank God! Oh! les braves Anglais! All will be well now. Come in,
messieurs; you shall have the best I can give you."