COURT-MARTIALED.
Poor Jack, with feelings that may be imagined, was roughly thrust into a
smoke house and the door slammed. Outside the sentries paced up and down
ceaselessly, showing him that to think of escaping would be useless.
There he must stay at the mercy of Radwig till his fate was decided.
No wonder, as he sank on a rough stool, he felt for a moment sick and
apprehensive. The glitter in Radwig's eyes when he saw who it was he had
made prisoner had warned Jack to expect severe treatment. The hours
dragged by and no one came near him. It was pitch dark in the smoke
house, which, of course, had no openings and hardly any ventilation.
The clank of the sentries' sabres, and their steady, monotonous tread,
were the only sounds that disturbed the stillness except for an
occasional, far-off rumble of cannonading. Evidently the main tide of
the battle had rolled back from the scene of the morning's engagement.
If it had not been for the presence of the sentries, which showed that
he was not forgotten, Jack would have been inclined to think that his
captors had ridden on and left him.
But the steady tramp-tramp outside precluded all possibility of this. At
last the door was flung open, and the two men guarding him entered the
dark smoke house. Jack saw then that it was late twilight, but a cloudy
sunset, threatening a coming storm, made it appear later.
"Come," ordered one of the impassive, gray-uniformed Germans, who
seemingly possessed a knowledge of a little English.
There was no resource but to obey. Jack, with a beating heart, fell in
between his two guardians.
[Illustration: "You have heard yourself accused of being a spy," began
the Colonel harshly.--Page 229]
"I've got to be cool and keep my head," he told himself as he was
marched toward the house. "Any false step now might be fatal."
Within the farmhouse, kitchen lights had been kindled. Two yellow
flaring lamps showed the group of officers about the table with their
swords laid among the remains of a meal. Wine spilled on the cloth and
empty glasses showed that the farmhouse cellar had been raided for their
entertainment.
At the head of the table sat the hawk-nosed colonel. Next him was
Radwig. One of the officers, a major, was tilted back in his chair
snoring noisily. Jack's heart sank. He saw no signs of a fair trial.
"You have heard yourself accused of being a spy," began the colonel
harshly. "What have you to say to the charge?"
"Simply that it's ridiculous. If you will give me time my friends will
be back here with ample proof that I am an American citizen, a wireless
operator and----"
"Ah, ha!" exclaimed the colonel, placing one finger to the side of his
hawk-like beak and looking cunning. "So that is it. A wireless operator
with Belgian passes in his possession. It looks bad."
Radwig bent over and whispered something in the colonel's ear.
"Herr Radwig tells me that you are a hater of Germans. That you had him
placed in custody in England and that he only escaped to join our army
after surmounting great difficulties. What have you to say to that?"
"As to being a hater of Germans, no American is that," said Jack. "We
are all neutral in this struggle. So far as Herr Radwig being imprisoned
in England, he was already in irons on the ship before she docked."
"Is that true?" demanded the colonel of Radwig, who smiled and waved his
hand with a gesture that signified "absurd."
"You see Herr Radwig denies that you tell the truth," remarked the
colonel.
"Surely my word is as good as his," protested Jack, trying to keep cool,
although he saw that things looked black indeed for him before such a
prejudiced tribunal.
"Herr Radwig is a German we all know and honor," retorted the colonel.
"Who you are we do not know. Therefore, between you, we must believe
him."
"You don't mean that you believe I am a spy?" blurted out Jack.
"The evidence shows it," rejoined the colonel coldly. "You are aware of
the rules of war?"
The whole room suddenly swam before Jack's eyes. A deadly chill passed
through him. For an instant he could not assure himself that it was not
a hideous dream from which he must soon awaken. But the next instant,
the reality, the horrible fact that he was about to be sentenced to
death as a spy, rushed back upon him. He tried to speak but his dry lips
refused to deliver a word.
The colonel and Radwig whispered, and then the former announced in his
harsh grating voice:
"It will be at reveille to-morrow. Remove the prisoner."
"But you don't understand," he choked out, "surely you don't mean to
execute me, an American citizen, without a chance to explain. I----"
"I will assume full responsibility," was the cold reply.
Jack struggled with his captors, but a cruel blow in the small of the
back with the butt of a rifle so dizzied him, that by the time he
recovered his senses, he was back in the dark, foul-smelling smoke house
once more.