“We’re going to make the push, Jack!” gasped Amos, as they found
themselves in close touch with the cottages.
“Yes, and I only hope we’ll find a friendly roof to shelter us,” added
his chum.
The clouds hung heavy above them. One would almost imagine the day was
far spent, and night about to close the curtains of darkness around
them. Again did they feel drops of rain starting to fall, and this time
it threatened to continue.
Looking around, Jack picked out a certain house as the most promising
of all those near by. He never could exactly explain just why he
selected that particular cottage, except that it was possibly a bit
closer than any other, and the rain began to fall more and more
heavily.
Hurrying under the shelter of the little porch that lay before the
door, the boys found that they could immediately escape the increasing
downpour. At the same time, as this was no mere summer shower, Jack did
not intend to stay on the outside.
So he proceeded to knock with his knuckles on the closed door. There
was no immediate reply, at which Amos suggested that possibly the
cottage might be without a tenant.
“If you looked a little closer,” his comrade told him, “you’d never say
that, for there is smoke coming from the top of the chimney. Besides, I
saw a face at the window staring at us when we rushed under this little
canopy that shields the door.”
“You don’t say!” ejaculated Amos.
“It was the face of an old woman, and white with fear I thought,”
continued Jack, seriously. “Still, that shouldn’t surprise us,
because in these terrible war-times all sorts of frightful things are
constantly happening to make timid people shiver with dread.”
“But, Jack, surely two boys oughtn’t to make anybody afraid?”
expostulated Amos.
“Sometimes the most innocent-looking things are the most dangerous,”
his chum told him. “These poor Belgians must be seeing German secret
agents everywhere about them. We have been suspected before now, and
seen in this strange light even you might appear a regular ogre in her
eyes.”
“But, my stars! Jack, are we going to stay out in the rain right along
just because some silly person might think all strangers are German
spies? Don’t you intend to knock again?”
For answer Jack once again brought his knuckles against the door with
more vim than before. It might even be considered a knock of authority,
for there is such a thing.
This time they plainly heard the shuffling of feet within. Then a
bar seemed to be removed, which in itself was a mute evidence of the
radical change that had come to this land since war stalked abroad; for
in the good old days of peace it was likely that no door had ever been
fastened, since thievery was next to unknown.
As the door was partly opened they saw a man of middle age, whose sight
was confined to one eye. He looked plainly worried, Amos could see; but
being content to leave all matters to Jack, he held his peace.
It was the usual habit of the boys when desiring to communicate with
any of the people whom they chanced to meet to test them first of all
with English. There were a certain number of Belgians who could speak
that language, having picked it up in trade, or by reason of having
been across the Channel working in English factories during dull
seasons in their own country.
Jack first of all pointed to that wonderful little flag which Amos bore
in his buttonhole.
“We are Americans--from the United States--can you talk English?”
He saw the man’s face give a twitch, and even fancied that his worried
face took on a partially relieved expression, though his hand resting
upon the edge of the door still quivered.
“Yes, I can speak and understand English,” he immediately said in
a quavering tone. “Both the wife and me, we have worked over in
Birmingham in the days that are gone. What is it you want, m’sieu?”
Jack waved his hand as if to call his attention to the descending rain.
“Shelter from the storm,” he said. “We will be only too glad to take
whatever accommodations you can spare, so long as we keep our coats
dry, and get a bite to eat; and please understand we will pay for the
service. I hope you will not refuse to accommodate us for one night, my
friend!”
The old man looked puzzled. He acted as though while he would like to
say no, policy compelled him to think twice before committing himself.
“Please wait a minute. I will talk with the good wife.”
He closed the door in their faces as he said this, softly, however, as
though not wishing to offend them.
“Well, I like that,” said Amos. “We may have to go elsewhere to get out
of the rain.”
“Give them a little time,” cautioned Jack. “It shows that the woman
rules here, as she usually does in every home. Don’t you remember that
story about the man who started out to learn whether the man or the
woman of the house was the actual boss, and found to his satisfaction
that it was always the lady?”
“I don’t remember hearing it, Jack,” commented Amos. “Suppose you tell
me about it while we’re waiting for them to decide this matter.”
“Oh! I thought it was a chestnut,” laughed Jack. “It’s so good that it
would bear repeating anyway. This man started out to please his father,
taking ten chickens in the wagon and a pair of horses, one gray and
the other a roan. If he found that the woman bossed the house he was
to leave a fowl; and should he ever come across a home where the man
was absolutely the ruler one of the horses was to be given to the happy
couple!”
“That’s interesting. Honest, Jack, I’ve never heard the story before,
either.”
“From house to house the man went. In every case he learned that woman
ruled the ranch, and so by degrees his supply of fowls got down to a
single specimen. Then he came to a place where there was a big burly
man and a small sharp-eyed wife. When he stated his case he learned
that in this home the man did just as he pleased. Both declared this,
and it looked as though he had at last hit on an ideal couple, which
would please his father very much.
“‘Since in this house the man is the sole boss,’ he told them, ‘I am
empowered by my father to make you a present of a horse. Now choose
which one of these two animals you would want to have.’
“‘The gray one strikes me as just about right,’ said the man.
“‘It’s a good horse,’ admitted the woman, ‘but don’t you think the roan
a little the finer, John? It seems to me if there is any choice I’d
take the roan.’
“At that the man told them to step aside and settle the matter; so
after some talk the husband came forward a little sheepishly and said:
“‘Mister, if it’s all the same to you I think we’ll take the roan
horse!’
“‘You’ll take a hen,’ said the traveler, as he chucked the last fowl
out of the wagon, and drove back to tell his father that woman was
supreme in every home.”
Amos laughed heartily at hearing the conclusion. Anxieties do not
wholly suppress young blood, which is capable of throwing cares aside
at will.
“Here they come to the door again,” he told Amos. “I wonder what they
think of hearing me laugh so loud.”
This time the door was thrown wide open by the man.
“Enter, young messieurs. We will do the best we can to entertain you.
But after such a terrible winter it is little any Belgian family
possesses to keep body and soul together. Lucky are those who still
have a roof over their heads.”
The old woman looked at them, and nodded her head as both boys saluted
her respectfully. They were given chairs, and seemed glad to sit down
to rest, being more or less tired after walking.
“What a wonderful day this has been for us, taken in all,” Amos was
saying as they looked out of the small window and saw how steadily the
rain was coming down.
“We’ll have to mark it with a white stone in our log of this trip
abroad to the battlefields of the world war,” Jack asserted.
“Do you think they mean to keep us over night?” asked Amos, in a low
tone, as he noted that both man and woman seemed to be stirring around,
getting the fire started afresh, as though meaning to do some cooking.
“Oh! yes, he said as much as that,” Jack replied. “There’s an upstairs
to the house, and perhaps some sort of loft where we can lie down to
sleep. But it’s a poor family, remember. So don’t expect too much of
them.”
“I’m willing to put up with almost anything,” hastily observed Amos.
“But do you notice how often they glance this way, and then if they
see either of us looking, seem confused? Jack, it isn’t curiosity that
makes them act so, but something more in the line of fear.”
“They may have a notion that after all we’re German spies, and meaning
to get secret evidence that will bring them under the military ban
later on. So, while we are here we must be careful not to say or do the
least thing to add to their anxious feeling. Let our talk be wholly of
America, and of how she feels for the wrongs of poor Belgium.”
Once there was a knock at the door which produced the greatest
consternation on the part of both the old man and his better half. He
finally answered the summons, and seemed greatly relieved when he found
it was only a neighbor who may have seen the two boys go in and felt
desirous of knowing who and what they were.
So the dull afternoon wore on to a close. The housewife busied herself
over her fire, and the old man talked with the boys. He seemed to grow
a little easier in his mind the more he heard them tell about the land
beyond the ocean. It was as if some of his secret fears may have been
set at rest.
While the supplies of food may have run pretty low in that humble
Belgian home, as was the universal case, still the housewife knew how
to get the most out of what she had. The appetizing odors that floated
to the boys began to make them anxious for the summons to sit down at
the table.
Presently this came, and they were not at all surprised to find
that the old couple were deeply religious, and asked a grace before
partaking of the meal. Even the worried look forsook the face of the
good wife when the two uninvited guests chatted pleasantly, and told of
many interesting things in connection with America, the wonder land to
most peasants in the Old World, and of which they can never hear quite
enough.
So the meal was ended, and the boys again resumed their seats by the
window. It had grown dark by now, with the rain still coming down,
though fitfully.
“I really believe it may let up before long, don’t you, Jack?” Amos
ventured to say, as they sat there, watching the two belonging to the
cottage busying themselves with various duties, and every once in a
while get their heads close together to exchange confidences, as though
some weighty secret lay between them.
“The signs point that way,” replied Jack, who was always watching out
for a change in the wind, or anything else that might indicate possible
weather conditions in the near future.
“I certainly hope we have a decent day tomorrow,” said Amos. “To
think of all those poor fellows lying wounded and uncared for on the
battlefield, how they will suffer tonight in this cold rain. It makes
me feel sick just to remember it. No matter whether they are British,
Belgians, French or Germans, they are our fellow human beings, and have
been our friends.”
The old man did not come over to them for some little time. Jack
fancied that he was getting nervous again, for several times he half
started from his seat and looked quickly toward the door.
Sitting there for a while, the boys found that they were getting very
sleepy. Jack purposely yawned several times when he thought the owner
of the cottage was looking their way. If this was intended as a gentle
hint it finally met with its reward, for the man came towards them.
“Young messieurs,” he said, awkwardly, “if you are tired and would lie
down I will show you the best we can do for you. It is not much, but
you will understand that no one can be expected to do more in these
terrible times.”
“Please don’t say that again,” Amos burst out with in his impetuous
fashion. “You are doing us a great favor as it is in giving us shelter
from the rain, and something to eat. We feel grateful. I could sleep on
a board and be thankful for the privilege.”
The man took a candle and started up the steep stairs that seemed
almost like a ladder, with the two lads following after. They found
themselves in what appeared to be an unfinished loft. The rain could be
heard beating softly on the roof. On the bare floor was a thick feather
mattress, and some bedclothes, as well as two pillows.
“That looks good to me,” remarked Amos, immediately.
“It is the best we can do,” said the peasant, as he set the candle
down, and bowing humbly backed toward the stairs, letting down the trap
after he had vanished.
“Why, we’ve got the whole upper part of the place to ourselves,”
observed Amos, as he looked curiously about him. “Seems like our attic
at home, come to think of it. Only I certainly hope there are not so
many rats prowling around as we’ve had to fight there. I’d hate to have
one nibble at my nose while I slumbered so sweetly on that bouncing
feather bed.”
“I suppose they have a small sleeping-place downstairs,” remarked Jack,
reflectively. “I wonder why they didn’t put us in there instead of up
here. Not that I object to this, for it’s just fine; and that patter
of the rain on the roof will lull us to sleep, I reckon. Still, I
suppose they didn’t want to bother with us down there; or they may have
had some other good reason.”
“For one I want to forget everything but that I’m as sleepy as they
make them,” and by the way Amos yawned as he said this there could be
no doubt that he meant every word of it.
They took off only their shoes and coats, for it was quite cool in the
room under the roof.
“Last in bed puts out the candle!” chuckled Amos, as he crawled under
the covers.
Jack performed this ceremony, and followed the other. He could not help
noticing that little streamers of faint light managed to find their way
up from below in certain places. This told him there were cracks in the
floor of the loft, a fact that did not surprise him in the least.
Amos was as good as his boast, it seemed. He had said he would be fast
asleep about as soon as his head struck the pillow. It was not long
before Jack knew from his even breathing that he had fulfilled his
threat.
Jack somehow seemed to lose his drowsy feeling after lying down, as
often happens to some persons, so that they are inclined to take the
first nap sitting in a chair. He found his mind becoming more active
than he liked. It seemed as though all kinds of things began to flit
through his brain, including the mystery surrounding the old couple
downstairs.
Becoming annoyed after he had lain there for nearly an hour with closed
eyes, and yet no nearer going to sleep than in the beginning, Jack
took himself sternly to task, and determined to forget all outside
happenings.
His resolution was immediately sorely tried, for had any one been
gifted with the eyes of a cat, capable of seeing in the dark, he might
have discovered Jack actually sitting up as though listening.
Had Amos awakened just then he might have asked his chum if he thought
he heard the squeak of a foraging rat. But Jack seemed interested
enough to quietly crawl out from under the covers and silently make his
way along to where the largest crack in the floor was to be found.
A short time afterward he was shaking Amos gently, and whispering in
his ear.
“Wake up, Amos, and don’t give a peep,” was what he said in the lowest
tone possible. “There’s something queer going on downstairs. A man has
come in; they opened and closed the door as softly as they could. They
are talking together after dropping the bar at the door. I’m afraid
these people are either not Belgians or else secretly in league with
the enemy. I plainly heard a word in German!”