The Mail Escort
During the next few days the Belgian field army had no respite. Landen
was occupied by the Germans on the 10th of August, and strong cavalry
screens of the enemy advanced along the Dutch border to within a few
miles of the capital. Other large bodies of cavalry threatened the
Belgian right wing, and in consequence a retirement of the small yet
determined army was necessary.
Two days later the Belgians gained a brilliant success at Haelen, where
the Germans, incautiously attempting to force a passage of the River
Gethe, were driven back in disorder and with great loss.
Of this action Kenneth Everest and his companion saw nothing, having
been sent on duty to the Belgian capital.
In Brussels the lads remained two days, having to await a reply to the
dispatch they had brought. During their brief periods of leisure they
hastened to call at the house of Major Resimont in the Rue de la
Tribune, but the place was in charge of servants. No news was to be
obtained of Mademoiselle Yvonne Resimont or of Kenneth's sister.
Beyond the unauthenticated report that the two girls had left the
school at Vise a few hours before the commencement of the German
bombardment, all traces of them were lost.
"Perhaps," suggested Rollo, "your sister went back to England and took
Yvonne with her. They say that numbers of refugees have passed through
Rotterdam on their way across the North Sea."
"Possibly," agreed Kenneth. "In which case we are completely in the
dark until we are lucky enough to get letters from home."
The inhabitants of Brussels were strangely calm. The fact that the
German invaders had gained a firm footing in their country did not
drive them into a panic. Possibly events of past history had taught
them to regard the overrunning of Belgium as a foregone conclusion when
the neighbouring Great Powers were at war. Above all, they continued
steadfastly to rely upon the prompt arrival of the British
Expeditionary Force, which, in conjunction with their own army and that
of the French nation, would quickly send the barbarous Teutons fleeing
for their lives across the Rhine.
"Hark!" exclaimed Rollo. "The papers are out. Something important has
happened."
The chums had retired early to bed in their modest lodgings of the Rue
Pontus, as they had been warned for duty at five on the following
morning. Their stock of money, although augmented by their scanty army
pay, was visibly dwindling; but after more than a week in bivouacs they
were grateful to sleep under a roof, undisturbed by the
nerve-shattering roar of hostile guns.
"It can wait till to-morrow," said Kenneth with a prodigious yawn. "I
feel too jolly tired----"
The next moment he was out of bed and making for the window, for above
the cheering on the Grands Boulevards came the oft-repeated cries of:
"The English Army in Belgium".
Hastily scrambling into their clothes, the two excited lads made their
way into the street and through the swarm of wildly exuberant citizens.
After a struggle they succeeded, at the cost of a franc, in obtaining a
copy of one of the local papers, and bore it back to their room in
triumph.
In huge letters were the words: "LES ANGLAIS SUR LE CONTINENT", the
report being taken from the French paper, _Le Journal_, dated Thursday,
the 13th August:--
"By our Special Correspondent.--For several days the valiant British
troops, who are to co-operate with our soldiers to repel the German
aggression in Belgium, have been crossing the Straits. Kept back at
first by the risks of a naval combat which the English fleet was
waiting to offer, in the North Sea, to the principal units of the enemy
marine, the disembarkation has now taken place in perfect order and
with surprising regularity. Up to the present the contingents sent
forward in the direction of Namur are considerable.
"Under the favour of darkness and in great mystery the transports were
organized. During Saturday night, by small detachments all along the
Belgian coast from Ostend to Zeebrugge, the steamers chartered by the
British Admiralty disembarked at first a small army, which moved before
dawn to the position allotted to it. Farther south, that same night,
semaphores signalled the arrival of mysterious ships, which, after a
brief stay, returned towards English shores. On the following day,
too, at the same hour, similar operations and disembarkations took
place with such rapidity and such silence that the inhabitants saw
nothing."
"Sounds promising," remarked Rollo thoughtfully. "But this is Friday.
Do you think it likely that our troops have been on Belgian soil for
nearly a week and this is the first we've heard of it?"
"The Press Censor perhaps----"
"Cannot gag the mouths of a million, old chap. However, I hope it's
true. Of course I know an army cannot be expected to land and proceed
straight to the front, but if they are to do anything they'll have to
jolly well hurry up."
"Don't put a damper on the good news, old man."
"All right, I won't, Kenneth; but, until I see a khaki regiment on
Belgian soil, I'm hanged if I will believe. Take me for a doubting
Thomas if you will. Anyway, I'm going to turn in again; we've to be up
early, you know."
In spite of the deafening clamour without, the chums slept soundly
until the concierge knocked loudly at the door to announce that it was
a quarter to five, and that the breakfast of messieurs les Anglais was
ready to be served as ordered.
Upon arriving at the place indicated in their order, the two
dispatch-riders found that they were to be temporarily attached to the
mail escort. Letters and parcels for the troops in the field had
accumulated during the last three days to enormous proportions. Five
large motor-cars had been requisitioned to take this mass of
correspondence from the capital, the convoy being accompanied by a
patrol of lancers, cyclists, and motor-cyclists.
"Wonder if there's anything for us in that lot?" hazarded Kenneth, as
four large wicker hampers addressed to the 9th Regiment of the Line
were unceremoniously dumped into a car. The correspondence had already
been passed by a Belgian censor, and the baskets had been secured by an
imposing wax seal.
"Perhaps," replied Rollo. "At all events we'll keep a special eye on
the car. One never knows where to expect the unwelcome attentions of
those ubiquitous Uhlans, and it will never do to let them pry into the
family secrets of our comrades of the 9th."
Through the flag-bedecked streets of Brussels the mail convoy made its
way. The route, as supplied to the officer in command, was a
circuitous one. Proceeding in an almost southerly direction, past the
villages of Waterloo, Genappe, and Quatre Bras, the mails for Namur and
the left flank of the Belgian field army were to be detached at the
village of Sombreffe. The remainder of the convoy was then to proceed
through Gembloux to Tirlemont, dropping the crates addressed to various
regiments at the nearest points to their ultimate destinations.
The motor-cars set out at a rapid pace, so much so that by the time
they were clear of the Forest of Soignies, less than ten miles from the
capital, the horses and the cyclists were almost "done up". Either
speed or the force at the disposal of the convoy had to be sacrificed,
and after a hasty consultation with his subordinates, the officer in
charge decided upon the latter alternative.
Accordingly the lancers were sent back, while a dozen of the cyclists
were ordered to leave their machines at a wayside inn and to ride on
the cars. From information received from various sources, there was
every reason to believe that that part of the country was free from the
attentions of the invaders, and no cause to doubt that the mail would
be delivered in safety and with celerity. Again the convoy was set in
motion, Kenneth and Rollo riding at a distance of about two hundred
yards ahead, for their wish to keep an eye on one particular car had
been abruptly nipped in the bud.
"We've seen the field of Waterloo at all events," shouted Rollo, in
order to make himself heard above the noise of the motors. "But it's
under different circumstances from those we expected."
They had had but a distant and momentary glimpse of the famous pyramid
of earth surmounted by the Lion of Belgium. The ground that, less than
a century before, was drenched with the blood of men of half a dozen
nationalities was again being prepared for a similar object on a vaster
scale. Belgian troops and peasants were busily engaged in digging
trenches; for here, according to the expectations of military experts,
was to be fought the decisive battle that was to save Brussels and
Belgium from the Teutonic invasion.
At Quatre Bras the convoy struck the Namur road. A couple of miles
farther on Kenneth's keen eyes detected a movement towards their left
front. In double-quick time the lads dismounted and held up their
hands, a signal that brought the convoy to a standstill.
"Cavalry, sir!" said Kenneth, pointing in the direction of a clump of
trees.
"Our vedettes, without doubt," declared the Belgian officer, leisurely
unstrapping his field-glasses. Before he could get them to bear,
Kenneth was sweeping the country with his powerful binoculars. There
was no mistake: the cavalry were Uhlans. They had already spotted the
convoy, and were advancing at the trot to capture or destroy the
weakly-protected mail escort.
Just then came a dull rumble at some distance to the rear of the line
of halted cars. The enemy had blown up the railway bridge on the line
between Charleroi and the north, thus cutting off the retreat of the
convoy.
"Mon capitaine," exclaimed one of the cyclists who had been given a
place in one of the cars; "I know this part of the country well. A
kilometre farther on is a road to the right. It will bring us to
Ligny."
The officer gave one glance towards the advancing Uhlans, now barely a
mile and a half away.
"En avant!" he ordered.
It was touch-and-go which would first reach the junction of the roads.
Only a momentary hesitation on the part of the Uhlans saved the
situation, for, seeing the convoy advance at full speed, they feared an
attack by the already dreaded motor-cars armed with mitrailleuses.
But as the convoy swung round the sharp corner a hail of bullets came
from the carbines of the German cavalry; then, realizing that their
discretion had got the better of their valour, the Uhlans dashed in
pursuit.
The Belgians cheered ironically. The idea of horses competing with
motor-cars seemed absurd. The latter covered three yards to the
Uhlans' one, and every moment the animals were becoming more and more
fatigued.
Suddenly Rollo gave vent to a warning shout. Ahead was the village of
Ligny, but between the convoy and the nearest houses were dense masses
of cavalry. Their capture seemed inevitable.
Again the motor-cars came to a halt. The Belgian captain saw that he
was in a trap.
"Turn about!" he ordered. "We must charge these Prussians behind us.
It will be easier to force our way through a hundred than----"
"Mon capitaine!" shouted an excited voice.
The Belgian officer turned, almost angrily.
"We are saved--regardez!" continued the speaker, pointing to the
railway line about three hundred yards to the right of the road.
Making their way along the hollow by the side of the line were swarms
of men in blue coats, red trousers, and kepis. There was no mistaking
them: they were French troops. The cavalry, too, close to the village
of Ligny were French chasseurs. The long-expected aid had become an
accomplished fact. French armies were on Belgian soil.
Already the Uhlans had perceived their peril. They turned and rode for
dear life.
Up came a group of French officers. Gravely they exchanged salutes
with the commander of the convoy.
"We hope to effect a junction with the Belgian army before nightfall,
monsieur," announced a colonel. "We have been instructed to occupy the
line Ligny-Tirlemont. It is to be hoped that these pigs of Prussians
have not tampered with the railway."
"Unfortunately they have, sir," replied the Belgian captain. "Already
they have blown up a bridge on the Quatre Bras road."
The Frenchman rapped out an oath.
"More work for our engineers," he remarked. "Nevertheless, the
Prussians shall pay. We have them. With the English between Antwerp
and Louvain, and your army between Louvain and Tirlemont, these Germans
are in front of a wall that cannot be climbed. You say that part of
your convoy is destined for Namur? Send them on, monsieur. We hold
both banks of the Sambre. For the rest we cannot, unfortunately, offer
you any guarantees."
Accordingly the convoy was split up, Kenneth and Rollo going with the
cars containing the mails for the Belgian troops at Tirlemont.
"The papers were right after all, old man," remarked Kenneth. "Our
troops are in Belgium. Now, admit that your doubts were ill-founded."
"I suppose so," admitted Rollo; "but all the same I should like to see
a khaki regiment, if only for the sake of ocular demonstration."
Before four that afternoon the mail for the 9th Regiment of the Line
was safely delivered, and with the utmost dispatch the work of
distribution began. It seemed a fitting reward that Kenneth should
receive half a dozen letters, three of which, bearing different dates,
were from his father. Rollo had to be content with four.
While the latter, with his usual deliberation, opened his
communications in the order of their postmarks, Kenneth impetuously
tore the envelope of his latest-dated one, and read as follows:--
"DEAR KENNETH,
"I wrote you at the Poste Restante at Liege, on the off-chance that you
might receive it on the eve of the declaration of war. From the
contents of your letter I have reason to believe that you did not. I
am naturally most anxious concerning Thelma. Up to the time of writing
I have had no tidings whatsoever, although I made enquiries of the
British Consuls at Antwerp, Rotterdam, and The Hague.
"In my previous letters addressed to you at the Field Post Office of
the 9th Regiment of the Line, I expressed my fullest approval of the
step you have taken. In case you have not received my former letters I
must repeat these sentiments. You are doing your duty to your country
by serving under the Belgian flag as faithfully as if you were under
your own--for ours is a united cause. Perhaps more so, since you are
not yet of an age to accept a commission. Should you be in need of
funds, I have placed the sum of Fifty Pounds to your account in the
Credit Belgique at Brussels.
"I am also sending you a batch of newspapers ["They have gone adrift,"
thought Kenneth] which will be of interest to you.
"I hear also that ... [Here was a long excision by the Censor.]
"Once more, good luck. Do your duty manfully and fearlessly. Regards
to young Barrington. I made a point of seeing his father the other
day, and he is with me in my view of the step you two have taken.
Needless to say, my Mediterranean trip is off. There is other work
even for an old buffer such as I am.
"Your affectionate father,
"THOMAS EVEREST."
"The pater's a brick," declared Kenneth, after he had finished wading
through his other correspondence; then, observing that Rollo was still
scanning his budget, he made his way across to the motor-cycles. In
his excitement he had forgotten to turn off the petrol tap of his
mount, and had just remembered the fact.
On the way back he ran across Major Resimont, whom he had not seen
since the night of the evacuation of Liege.
The Major greeted him warmly, congratulated him upon gaining his
stripes, and asked him how he had fared.
"I have, unfortunately, bad news," said the Major sadly. "It would be
well to keep the information to yourself: the Liege forts have fallen,
and General Leman is a prisoner."
"I thought they could hold out for months," Kenneth blurted out, his
sense of discretion overcome by the suddenness of the news.
"We all thought so," rejoined Major Resimont quietly. "But those huge
German guns, they cracked the cupolas like nutshells, and killed or
wounded every man in the forts."
"The French are here, though," announced Kenneth. "We came in touch
with them this morning."
"I know," said the Belgian. "They have already succeeded in taking
Dinant. We have certain hopes in the French."
"And the British troops are in Belgium."
The Major shook his head.
"See, sir," persisted Kenneth, producing the copy of the paper he had
purchased in Brussels.
"I have already seen it," said Major Resimont; "it is only a rumour.
It is, moreover, false; there is not a single English regiment in
Belgium. Your country is, I fear, too late to save Brussels from the
invaders."