THE ESCAPE.
"What did I tell you!" shouted Hal, when the old negro had taken his
departure. "Didn't I tell you old Uncle Billy wouldn't leave us in
the lurch?"
"What do you suppose his plan is?" asked Chester.
"I haven't any idea, but you can depend upon its being a good one."
Captain Derevaux and Lieutenant Anderson were examining the revolvers
Uncle Billy had laid on the table.
"Loaded, all right," remarked the latter.
"At least they won't stand us up against a wall without a fight,"
declared the captain.
"I don't know what Uncle Billy's plan of escape is," said Hal, "but I
am sure it will be successful. I have a lot of confidence in these
old-time negroes."
"And I, too," declared Chester.
"Well," interrupted the Frenchman, "all we can do now is to wait and hope
for the best."
"We at least have a fighting chance," spoke up the lieutenant, "and
that's more than I ever expected to have again."
"It's a long time between now and nine o'clock," said Chester. "I think
we all had better get some sleep. We are likely to need it before we
get through."
"Right," replied the lieutenant. "I guess we had better turn in."
The four lay down upon the dirty mattresses, and with their minds more at
ease were soon asleep.
It was after six o'clock when Uncle Billy once more entered the cell with
their "dinner," which consisted of another vessel of water and a second
loaf of bread.
Hal made a grimace.
"Is that what you call dinner, Uncle Billy?" he demanded. "Why, I'm so
hungry I could eat a fence rail."
Uncle Billy grinned widely.
"Yo'al will git a shore 'nuff dinnah 'fore long," he replied.
"Is everything all right?" asked Chester.
"Yassah, yassah. Everyt'ing am all right. Yo'al jes' do like I tell you,"
and the old darky hastened from the cell.
The four prisoners fell upon the single loaf of bread and devoured
it hungrily. Thirstily they gulped down the water, and then sat
down to wait.
The long hours passed slowly.
"Great Scott!" exclaimed Chester finally. "Won't nine o'clock ever come?"
"Hold your horses and don't get excited," ordered Lieutenant Anderson.
"Impatience won't get us anything."
Chester subsided, and for a time the four sat in silence.
Suddenly the stillness was broken by the faint sound of a distant bell.
The young lieutenant pulled his watch from his pocket. Then he closed the
case with a snap and rose to his feet.
"Nine o'clock!" he said briefly. "Time to be moving!"
Cautiously the four approached the cell door. Hal pressed his weight
against it, and slowly the huge door swung outward. Poking out his head,
Hal glanced up and down the corridor.
"No one in sight," he informed his companions, and softly the four
stepped outside, closing the door gently behind them.
Silently four shadows flitted along the corridor, out across the bridge
and to the wall beyond. They encountered no one.
"Your Uncle Billy is a jewel," declared the young Frenchman, in a
whisper.
"He is for a fact," whispered back the lieutenant.
Chester crept silently through the gate and peered in all directions.
Then he crept back to his companions.
"All safe!" he whispered.
"Now to get to the place where Uncle Billy said friends would be
waiting," said Hal.
"I guess we had better make it at a run," spoke up the Frenchman.
"Yes," said the lieutenant; "some one might happen along and we would
have to make a fight for it."
Passing through the entrance to the old castle, the four broke into a
run, and turning to the right in accordance with their instructions,
increased their speed.
For a considerable distance they sped along under the shelter of the
castle wall. Just as they reached the end of the wall a whispered voice
brought them to a halt.
"Hyah, sah!" came the unmistakable voice of Uncle Billy.
Turning, they saw the old negro, who had been hidden from their sight,
standing under the far wall of the castle.
"Follow me!" he whispered, and led the way a short distance along the
wall, to where were picketed four horses.
Turning, he motioned the companions to mount.
"Which way?" asked the lieutenant, when all were in the saddle.
"Straight north, I suppose," said the captain.
"No, sah, no, sah," broke in Uncle Billy. "Yo'al can't get free
that-a-way. Since de Emp'ror declared wah on Belgin an' Englan' dun
declare wah on Germany, all de no'th coast am hev'ly guarded."
"What!" exclaimed the French captain. "War on Belgium!"
"England has declared war?" asked the young lieutenant, in surprise.
"Yassah, yassah. I jes' hearn erbout it."
"Then which way shall we go?"
"Yo'al must go that-a-way," came the answer, and Uncle Billy pointed
toward the southwest, in the direction of the faraway frontier of The
Netherlands.
"But Holland is a long ways off, and the country between must be overrun
with troops," protested the Frenchman.
"Mos' all de troops am at de front," explained the old negro. "Dat am de
bes' way, sah."
"I believe we had better take Uncle Billy's word for it," declared Hal.
"I guess he is right," said the lieutenant. "Uncle Billy, we can never
thank you enough."
"No," agreed Captain Derevaux. "We can never thank you enough."
"Come," said the lieutenant, "let us ride," and he turned his horse's
head toward the southwest, and started off cautiously.
But Hal and Chester stopped for a further word with Uncle Billy.
"But how about you, Uncle Billy?" demanded Chester. "Won't you get in
trouble for aiding us to escape?"
"No, sah," replied the old negro. "There won't none o' dese hyah Germans
hurt ol' Uncle Billy!"
"Well, then, good-by," said the boys. "After the war is over we are
coming back to see you."
"After de wah am over," said the old negro slowly, "Ise gwine back ter
ol' Virginy!"
With another word of farewell the boys wheeled their horses and rode
after their companions, who were now some distance ahead.
"We shall have to go very slowly and feel our way until we have passed
the outposts of the town," said the lieutenant, as they rode along; and
for the first half hour their progress was slow.
Once they passed within a few yards of a German sentry, but so softly did
their horses step that the soldier did not turn in their direction.
Bearing well to the south, they passed the long line of huts where they
had been captured the night before, at a considerable distance; and now,
feeling sure they had passed the last of the outposts, they urged their
horses into a quick trot.
"We will try and avoid all towns this time," declared Lieutenant
Anderson, "going just close enough to them to keep our bearings."
"A good scheme," said the Frenchman. "We would better avoid the highways
as much as possible also."
In almost a straight line, the direction in which the companions were now
headed eventually would put them into Holland a few miles north of the
Belgian frontier. Following the highways, their way would lead through
Prenzlau, Brunswick, and Detmold. But upon Captain Derevaux's advice,
they decided to skirt these towns, staying just close enough to the roads
to keep their sense of direction.
As the four rode along through the open fields, Hal and Chester continued
to talk of Uncle Billy.
"After the war," said Chester, "we'll come back and get him and take him
home with us."
But such was not to be; nor was the old Southern negro ever again to see
his Virginia home.
And because of the assistance he rendered Hal and Chester and their two
friends, it is fitting that here be related the fate of this old
plantation slave, who had come so nobly to the aid of our boys.
As the four companions rode away from the old castle, Uncle Billy, with
bared head, gazed lovingly after them.
"Praise de Lawd!" he exclaimed. "May dey git home in safety."
The riders disappeared in the distance, and the old negro, after one
last glance, turned toward his quarters in a broken-down wing of the
old castle.
There he threw himself to his knees, and for long minutes prayed in
silence. Then he arose, extinguished his light, and crawled into his
dirty cot.
Before sun-up he arose, and was soon about his duties of carrying food to
others imprisoned in the castle. Upon the order of General Steinberg he
went to the vacant cell with the firing squad that was to put an end to
the lives of the four companions whom he had aided to escape.
He opened the door, and then threw up his hands in well-feigned surprise.
"Dere gone!" he exclaimed.
"What!" exclaimed the officer in charge of the firing squad.
"Impossible!"
He brushed the old negro aside and peered into the cell. Then he turned
to Uncle Billy and laid his hand on his shoulder. "You are under
arrest!" he said.
"What fo', sah?"
"For aiding the prisoners to escape."
"But, but--"
"Silence! To the general's quarters!" he commanded his men.
Uncle Billy was led before General Steinberg.
"So!" thundered the latter, after the situation had been explained to
him. "A traitor, eh!"
Uncle Billy drew himself up proudly, and the years seemed to fall from
his shoulders.
"I is no traitor, sah!" he said quietly, "Is I a traitor, sah, because I
is willin' ter die fer two li'l chillun, who is so like mah young massa?"
"What!" shouted the general. "You admit it?"
"Yassah!"
General Steinberg's face grew purple and he waved his arms about angrily.
"Then you shall die in their stead!" he shouted. "Sergeant! Take that
black hound out and shoot him! See that my order is carried out at once!"
The sergeant saluted and turned to Uncle Billy.
"Come!" he said.
With bowed head the old negro walked slowly from the hut. Outside the
squad of soldiers encircled him, and he was led away.
With his back to a wall and the line of soldiers facing him, their
rifles grounded by their sides, Uncle Billy's face turned chalky, and
he trembled.
But, as the sergeant approached with a bandage for his eyes, the old
negro regained his composure.
For the last time he drew himself to his full height; imperiously he
waved the sergeant away, and his eyes met the gaze of his executioners
unflinchingly.
"Ready!" came the voice of the sergeant.
"Take aim!"
"Fire!"
Without a murmur, Uncle Billy slid gently to the ground, his body riddled
with bullets.
The sergeant hurried to his side, and placed a hand over his heart.
As he did so, the body of the old negro twitched, and he made an
effort to rise.
The sergeant caught the faint sound of his voice.
"I'se a-comin', massa; I'se a-co--" came the old voice in a low whisper;
and Uncle Billy's body fell back inert.
The sergeant straightened up, and lifted his cap from his head.
"He is dead!" he said softly.