THE RIDE OF THREE
The battle, including the fighting retreat, had lasted a long time and
it had proved even to inexperienced John that the French force could not
stand before the superior numbers of the Germans, and their tremendous
equipment. And yet the French officers had shown much skill. They had
inflicted great losses, they had drawn off all their artillery, and they
had defeated every effort of their enemy to surround and destroy them.
John felt that not everything was lost as they sat down on the hills and
began to fortify anew. There was no time for him to rest. He was only a
private soldier, and, armed with a spade, he worked at a trench with all
the strength and energy he could command. But his immediate friends of
the Strangers were of no higher rank than himself and they were beside
him engaged in the same task. "I'm only a new soldier," he said, "but it
seems to me we did pretty well to get off with our army and our guns."
"So we did," said Carstairs. "I fancy the chief part of our occupation
will be retreating until the British come up."
"There it goes," said Wharton. "Every Englishman has a fatal disease.
You can never cure him of being an Englishman. If a million French and a
hundred thousand English were to win a battle Carstairs would give all
the credit of it to the hundred thousand English."
"I'd give it to 'em, because it belonged to 'em. Keep your fool Yankee
head down, Wharton. Didn't you hear that shell whistle?"
"I heard it, and I heard a dozen others too," said John, who could not
keep from shivering a little. "Why do they keep on bothering us, when
we're now in too strong a position to be attacked, and the night too is
at hand?"
"Oh, you'll get used to it," said Wharton. "They won't attack tonight,
but they want to keep us disturbed, to create terror among us, and then
we'll be easier, when they do come again."
"I don't hear the giant any more."
"You mean the forty-two centimeter. I fancy it's far in the rear. They
have to have roads on which to drag it, and then, so they say, it has to
be placed in a concrete bed before they can fire it."
"At any rate their fire is dying," said Carstairs, "and I'm jolly glad
of it. I didn't get any sleep last night, and I want some tonight. I
need it, after this back-breaking work."
Fortunately the trench was soon finished, and the long range firing
ceased entirely. The night came on, hiding the two armies from each
other, and fires sprang up in the French camp. Their light was ruddy and
cheerful. Then came the glorious aroma of food, and, the Strangers
called from their labors to the banquet, sat down and ate.
John had heard all his life what cooks the French were, but nothing that
he had ever tasted before was like the food he ate and the coffee he
drank that night. Incessant marching and fighting gave a savor that
nothing else could impart.
While they still sat around the cooking fires they saw dim shapes in the
heavens, and John, out of the depths of his experience, knew that they
were the flying machines. Carstairs and Wharton saw him looking up.
"You may want to be there," said Wharton, "but I don't. I'd grow so
giddy I'd jump right out of the machine. This sound and rolling earth
suits me. I like its green grass, its rivers, its lakes and its
mountains, and I don't want to go off, prospecting for other planets."
"It's lucky," said John, "that this army has flying machines of its own.
If it didn't the Germans would be raining bombs upon us."
Carstairs shuddered.
"There's something heathenish and uncanny about it," he said. "Soldiers,
by Jove, have to watch nowadays. If you're on the ship looking for an
enemy of your size the little submarine down under the water may blow
you to pieces, and if you're on the land holding your own against
another army a little aeroplane away up in the sky may drop a bomb that
will shatter you into seven million pieces."
"It's a hard world, Carstairs," said Wharton, "but I think discomfort
rather than danger will come out of the sky tonight. The clouds are
piling up and there'll be heavy rain. John, you little old flying man,
won't that stop the Taubes?"
"They wouldn't venture much in a heavy rain, and I think we're safe from
them, but you know that what their fliers can do ours can do too."
"That being the case I'll settle myself for rest and sleep. The French
show us a lot of consideration as we've volunteered to fight for them,
and there are tents for the Strangers. You're to have a place in ours."
John was grateful and said so. The strain of the last few days would
have overpowered him, but luckily he was exceedingly strong and
tenacious. Yet he was so tired that he could scarcely walk, and he was
very very glad to go into the tent with Carstairs and Wharton. He
received two blankets, and, putting one under him and the other over
him, he lay near the open flap, where he could get a good view of much
that was going on outside.
He soon saw that it was to be no storm of thunder and lightning, but a
heavy soaking rain. The air too had turned colder, and he was grateful
for the blankets. He was becoming inured to hardship so fast that they
and the tent were as luxurious to him as a modern hotel would have
seemed two weeks before.
Carstairs and Wharton, after a short combat in words, fell sound asleep,
but John lingered a little. He saw the fires burning smokily, and French
soldiers passing before the blaze. From where he lay he could also see
far out upon the plain that lay before them. But everything there was
veiled in heavy mists and low clouds. Although an army of perhaps a
hundred thousand men was only a short distance away the night disclosed
no trace of it.
The rain began to fall soon, coming down as John had foreseen in a
strong, steady pour. The sound on the heavy canvas was so soothing that
his nerves relaxed and he slept. He was awakened at an unearthly hour by
the strong hand of Captain Colton pulling at his shoulder.
As soon as John realized that it was his commanding officer he sprang to
his feet and saluted, although his eyes were yet heavy with sleep. It
was still raining and the water poured from a heavy cape coat that
Captain Colton wore over his uniform. Carstairs and Wharton were already
on their feet.
"You three are chosen for a mission," said Captain Colton, "and I'll
tell it to you as briefly as I can. We've received news tonight that
another German force is coming from the northeast. If it gets upon our
flank we're lost, but there is a French army, and perhaps an English
force with it or near it to the west. If they can be brought up in time
they will protect our flank and save us--and also themselves. But we
must have trusty messengers. The flying machines can do little in the
storm. So we fall back on the ancient agencies. Can you ride, Mr.
Scott?"
"Yes sir."
"Then you three are to go at once. Other messengers will ride forth, but
I should feel very proud, if it were the Strangers who brought help."
The little appeal was not lost on the three. He rapidly gave them
instructions about the point, at which the second French force was
supposed to be, and told them to ride for it as hard as they could,
giving to them sealed despatches also. Their own army would be falling
back meanwhile.
"Both Carstairs and Wharton know this region and the roads," he said to
John, "and you keep with them. Are you ready?"
"Yes sir," answered the three together.
They stepped out into the rain, but forgetful of it. An orderly was
holding three horses. In an instant, they were in the saddle and away.
They passed through the lines and came out upon one of the splendid
French roads, the three abreast. The rain was beating in their faces,
but the orderly had tied cloaks to their saddles, and now they wrapped
them about their bodies.
But John minded neither darkness, cold nor rain. Sensitive and quiet
there was some quality in him that always responded to the call of high
adventure. His mind was never keener, never more alert, and all his
strength of body had returned. Wharton and Carstairs rode on either side
of him, and he felt already as if they had been friends of years,
knitted to him by a thousand dangers shared.
He looked back once at the intrenched camp, but the descent and curve of
the road already hid it in the darkness. He saw nothing but the black
outline of the hills, and low clouds floating across the whole horizon.
Ahead was a blank. He was in one of the most thickly populated regions
of the world, crowded with cities, but in the darkness and storm it
looked like a wilderness.
Neither of his comrades spoke for a long time. He stole a look at his
watch, and saw that it was three o'clock in the morning. They crossed
two small rivers, foaming like torrents, and at the bridges reined into
a walk, lest the hoof-beats be heard too far. But they did not meet any
human being. Save for the road and the bridges the aspect of a
wilderness was complete. John knew that numerous villages lay near, but
in such a world war the people would put out their lights and keep close
in their houses.
They turned after a while into a smaller road, leading more toward the
north.
"The Uhlans may be in our rear," said Carstairs. "They seem to be
everywhere, and we don't want to be cut off just at the beginning of our
ride."
"Rein in," said Wharton. "I hear cavalry passing on the road we've just
left."
"Speak of Uhlans, and they appear," whispered John.
They were Uhlans, no doubt. John recognized the helmets, but the men
were riding back toward the armies. He and his two comrades kept their
horses in the shadow of the bushes, and were in dread lest some movement
of their animals betray them, but the droning of the rain was the only
sound made. The Uhlans, about forty in number, rode on and the darkness
swallowed them up.
"Since they've gone about their business we'd better go about ours,"
said Wharton.
"Those are the first wise words I've heard you speak in a half hour,"
said Carstairs.
"It's the first time I've spoken at all in a half hour," said Wharton.
"Which way do we go now?" asked John.
"Over a hill and far away," replied Carstairs. "To be more explicit
we're coming to the hill now, and about daylight we'll reach a little
village, where I think we'd better get food and news. You'll like the
country, John, when it stops raining and the sunlight comes. Oh, it's a
fair land, this land of France."
"I've seen enough of it to know that," said John. "Lead on, and I'll be
glad to reach the next village. A wind has set up, and this rain cuts
cruelly."
Carstairs rode in front, and for more than an hour they breasted the
storm almost in silence. They climbed the hill, passed down the other
side, crossed numerous brooks, and then saw reluctant daylight appearing
through the rain.
John with the new caution that he had learned looked up. But the clouds
were so heavy that he saw nothing there, not a dirigible, not a Taube,
nor any form of aeroplane. Traveling, even on the business of an army,
was still better on land.
"There's our village," said Wharton, pointing to a pleasant valley in
which tiled roofs and the spire of a church showed.
"And there we'll be in fifteen minutes," said Carstairs. "I'm full of
enthusiasm for the mission on which we ride as you two are also of
course, but it will fairly overflow after I have a good warm breakfast."
Despite the earliness of the hour peasants were up and they watched with
curiosity the three horsemen who approached. But enough of the uniform
of the strangers showed, despite their cloaks, to indicate that they
belonged to the French army, and they were welcome. An old man with a
scythe, pointed toward an inn, and the three, increasing their speed,
rode straight for it.
"I hope they'll have good coffee," said John.
"And fine bread," said Carstairs.
"And choice bacon," said Wharton.
"And plenty of eggs to go with the bacon," said John.
It was but a little village, forty or fifty houses, set among the hills,
but in times of peace many people must have gone that way, because it
had one of the best road inns that John had ever entered. They were
early but the landlord soon had the flames going in a wide fire-place,
before which the three stood, warming themselves and drying their
clothes. And the heavy aromas arising promised that the coffee, bacon
and all the rest would be everything they wished.
A boy held their horses near the main door which stood open that they
might see. The three were a unit on this precaution. If by any possible
chance their horses were lost their mission in all likelihood would be
lost too. John, new recruit, nevertheless felt the full importance of
watching. He stood with his back to the fire, where he could see the
sturdy French boy, the reins of the three horses in his hands.
But he did not forget how good that fire felt. The great cape had not
been able to protect him wholly from the rain, and, despite the
excitement of their ride, he had become conscious that he was cold and
wet. Now the grateful warmth penetrated to his bones, and vitality
returned.
As he remained there, turning about a little before the fire but always
keeping his eyes on the door, he saw the villagers come down in the rain
and look in, some at the open door and some at the windows. None of them
spoke, but all gazed intently at the three in French uniform who stood
before the fire.
John knew why they had come and he was singularly moved by their silent,
pathetic stare. They were hoping to hear good news, at least one little
bit of it--these good French villagers whose soil was trodden again by
an enemy who seemed invincible. Just as the breakfast was being laid
upon the table the landlord said to them:
"Have you nothing for these brave people of ours, who, as you see, wait
at the windows? They are the old men, the very young and the women. All
the others are gone to the war. Yesterday we heard the sound of guns for
a long time. Have you no success to report for France?"
The three shook their heads sadly and Wharton replied for them.
"Not yet," he said. "We belong to the French army engaged in the battle
that you heard yesterday. But it was driven back again. The Germans come
in overwhelming force, and we cannot withstand their numbers, but we
were able to draw off with all our guns and leave them no prisoners."
The landlord said nothing in reply, but presently all those wistful and
waiting faces disappeared. Then the breakfast was ready, and a fourth
traveler, wet and cold as they had been, arrived. John saw him give the
reins of his horse to the waiting boy before he came to the door, where
he stood a moment, awaiting the landlord's welcome.
The stranger was in a French uniform, faded and dripping so much water
that he must have been in the rain a long time. He was about thirty,
medium in height, his face covered with much black beard, and John saw
that he was staggering from weakness. But Monsieur Gaussin, the
landlord, a man of kindly heart, had perceived that fact also, and he
stepped forward quickly.
"Thank you for your arm, good host," said the stranger. "I am weak, but
if I am so it is because I've ridden all night in the rain for France."
"A French soldier," said Monsieur Gaussin, opening wide his heart, "and
you ride for France! Then you are not alone on such errands. Behold the
three young men who are about to honor me by eating a breakfast, for
which I shall take no pay."
Gaussin too was not without a touch of the dramatic instinct, and he
proudly waved his arm, across which the white napkin lay, toward John,
Carstairs and Wharton.
"When you have warmed and dried yourself a little and have drank a glass
of this fine old liquor of mine," he said benignantly, "you shall join
them."
"And we shall welcome you as a comrade," said Wharton. "We are not
French--two Americans and one English--but we fight with the French and
their cause is ours. My friends are Carstairs and Scott, and my own name
is Wharton."
"And mine is Weber," said the man, "Fernand Weber, an Alsatian, hoping
and praying that Alsace and all Alsatians may now be restored to
France."
The good Monsieur Gaussin murmured sympathetically.
"But we must suffer and do much before we regain our lost provinces,"
Weber said.
"Will you not join us at the table?" asked Carstairs politely.
"Gladly, as soon as I have removed this wet coat," replied Weber.
As soon as he took off the outer garment they saw a stain of red across
his left sleeve, and the good Monsieur Gaussin again murmured
sympathetically.
"It's nothing," laughed Weber. "The Uhlans are abroad, as you may have
discovered for yourself. They ride over the whole country, and in the
night I was chased by them. The bullet creased my arm, but I carry the
emergency bandage. One, two, three, I made it fast, and here we are."
There was something attractive in his manner, his frankness, and the
light way in which he dismissed his adventure. The hearts of the three
warmed toward one who rode perilously for France as they were doing.
"Come," said John, "you must be starving to death. We certainly are, and
if I'm kept any longer from this heavenly coffee there'll be a
rebellion."
Annette, the neat maid who was serving them smiled, and Monsieur Gaussin
smiled also. But Weber did not keep them waiting. He slid into the
fourth chair that had been placed, and, for a little space, gastronomy
of the most harmonious kind prevailed.
"From which direction do you come?" asked Carstairs.
"North," replied Weber flashing a smile from gray eyes.
John thought his eyes good, but all the lower part of his face was
concealed by the beard.
"I hope you're doing better there than we are on the east," said
Carstairs.
"Have you, then, had bad luck?" asked Weber.
"I'd scarcely blame any part of it on luck. Jove, but it's just a plain
case of the other side being ready, while we are not."
"And you ride then for help?"
"Something of that kind, although of course we couldn't tell anybody
where we are going."
"And I shall not dream of asking you. I know a soldier's duty too well.
I ride on an errand myself, but I shall not refuse to tell you anything
because you are not going to ask me."
All four laughed. John liked Weber better and better. He saw that he was
a cheerful man, with a touch of humor, and he heartened the other three
mightily.
Weber told that the French were now well ahead with their preparations,
the English were beginning to stir and presently the Germans would find
the armies before them much more powerful.
"On what road did you receive your wound?" asked John. "You won't mind
telling us this, I hope, because that will be a good road for us to
avoid."
"The Uhlans may have passed on," replied Weber, shrugging his shoulders,
"but it was the road from the north. I encountered them about fifteen
miles from here. It was so dark that I couldn't see very well, but I
don't think they numbered more than half a dozen."
"We were going on that road," said Carstairs rising, "but perhaps we'd
better take the western one for the present. We have to hurry. Good-by,
Mr. Weber, we're glad we met you, and we hope that transfer of the title
deeds of Alsace real estate will take place."
Weber's gray eyes beamed.
"It's good of another race to help us," he said. All three shook hands
with him, said friendly farewells to the benignant Monsieur Gaussin and
the neat Annette, and hurried to their horses.
"A good fellow that Weber," said Carstairs as they swung into their
saddles. "I hope we'll swing Alsace and Lorraine too, back into France
for him."
"If it's done," said Wharton, "England will claim that she did it."
"A perfectly justifiable claim."
Wharton turned upon John a look of despair.
"Can you ever change a single idea of theirs?" he asked. "They're quite
sure they've done everything."
"There's one race," said John, "to whom they yield."
"I never heard of it."
"Oh yes, you have. When Sandy of the long red locks comes down from the
high hills London capitulates at once. Don't you know, Wharton, that
Great Britain and all her colonies are ruled by the Scotch?"
Carstairs broke into a hearty laugh.
"You have me there, Wharton," he said. "Certainly we're ruled by the
Scotch. We have to let them do it or they'd make the country so
disagreeable there'd be no living in it. Jove, but I wish I could hear
the bagpipes now and see a hundred thousand of their red heads coming
over the hills. It's such fine country around here that they'd never let
the Germans have it."
"I like them too," said John. "They're brave men and they speak a sort
of English."
Carstairs laughed.
"Don't criticize their English unless you want a fight," he said. "A man
is often proudest of what he lacks."
"Just so, Carstairs, and I've often wondered too why so few of the
English can speak their own language."
"Shut up, Scott! You've joined Wharton and two against one is not fair.
Confound this rain! I wish it would stop! I'm getting wet and cold
again. Here the road forks, and Weber said he came down from the north."
"And since he got a bullet in the arm the northern road is bad for us,"
said Wharton. "If you two agree we'll turn to the west."
"The west for us," said John and Carstairs together.
The country was hillier and more wooded than usual, but they saw little
of it, as it was enveloped in a cloud of rain and mist. Nor did they
meet any other travelers on the road, a fact which did not surprise
them, as the whole region was now almost deserted by everybody save
soldiers.
The high spirits they had accumulated at the inn were soon dissipated.
It was impossible to remain gay, when one was sodden through and
through. The rain came down, as if it meant to do so forever, and all
the valleys were filled with mists and vapors. But the road clean and
well paved led straight on, and Wharton and Carstairs seemed to know it
well.
"Another inn would suit me," said John who was the first to speak in
more than an hour. "I shouldn't want to stop because I know we haven't
time for it, but I'd like to look in at the window, as I rode by, and
see the fire blazing."
"You'll see nothing of that kind before one o'clock in the afternoon,"
said Carstairs. "Then we come to another neat little village, and
another good inn. We'll have to stop there for our horses to feed, as we
gave them nothing this morning. So you can do more than look at the
window and see the blazing fire."
The road led now between high hedges, and they heard a report some
distance to their right. Wharton who was in front suddenly pulled back
his horse.
"What's the matter?" the other two exclaimed together.
"A bee stung me," replied Wharton grimly.
He held up his left hand. The blood was flowing from a thin red line
across the back of it.
"A bullet did that!" exclaimed Carstairs.
A second report came, and John felt a rush of air past his face.
"Gallop, boys, gallop!" exclaimed Wharton. "Somebody has ambushed us,
Uhlans, I suppose, and we've got to run!"
"They must be in the fields!" said Carstairs, as the three urged their
horses at once to their utmost speed. Luckily, they had been coming at a
slow pace and their mounts were strong.
John thought rapidly. The modern high-powered rifle carried far, and he
judged by the faintness of the reports that the bullets had been fired
from a point several hundred yards away. They had done under impulse the
very thing they ought to do, and their present speed would soon leave
the raiders behind.
The three rode neck and neck and as they galloped on two more bullets
whistled near them.
"An ambush," said Carstairs coolly, "but we've rushed through it."
"Anyway, our luck is better than Weber's," said Wharton. "He was pinked
in the arm and we're unhurt. At least I think so. How are you, Scott?"
"Well but scared."
"I believe the first statement, but not the second And you Carstairs."
"Well but annoyed."
"I believe both your statements."
"Is it your recollection that these hedges continue far, Carstairs?"
asked Wharton.
"Five or six miles at least."
"That's mine too, but I hoped I was wrong. It gives those bushwackers an
advantage. With the hedges right beside us we can't see well over them,
but they on the hills at a distance can look down on us."
"You Yankees are sometimes right, Wharton, and this is one of the times.
Those fellows, whoever they are, will probably get a few more shots at
us. I'll lay you two to one they don't hit us."
"I never bet against my sympathies. Ping! didn't you hear it! There was
a bullet, five seconds after you offered to bet."
"Yes, I know it. Here's the lock of hair it cut from my head."
He took the hair from his coat, where it had fallen, and let it flutter
away. He did not show any alarm. Already it had become the pride of the
three never to betray apprehension. John's face was like a mask,
although his heart was beating hard. A whistle over his head showed that
a bullet had passed there and he heard its plunk as it buried itself in
a tree on the other side of the road.
He remembered with some consolation that the modern, small, high-powered
rifle bullet, unless it killed, did not do so very much harm. It went
through one so fast that it did not tear flesh or break bones, and the
wounds it made were quick to heal.
Ping! Ping! and once more ping! They reached the crest of the hill and
went swiftly down the other slope.
"I think we'll leave them behind here," said Carstairs. "We gain, as
we've the open road, while they're obstructed in fields."
"I hope you're a true prophet, Carstairs," said Wharton. "I'm growing
reconciled to an army shooting at me, but I would hate to be picked off
by an ambushed sharpshooter."
Carstairs was a true prophet in this case. No more shots came and as
they entered flat country with open fields, in which they could see
everything they slowed to a walk, and not too soon, for the horses were
breathing heavily, their mouths covered with foam. Then in order to
spare their tired animals the three dismounted and walked a mile,
leading them by the bridles.
"I'd never have thought the Uhlans were in the rear of our army," said
Carstairs.
"I'm not at all surprised," said John.
"Why not?"
"Because I shall never be surprised at anything the Germans do. You
English have fallen into the bad habit of thinking that what you haven't
done nobody else does."
"I see," said Carstairs with a laugh. "Hit the poor old Britisher. You
Yankees are so used to it that you can't get out of the habit, even here
and now, when you and I are allies."
"But it's the truth, the real vital truth," said John earnestly. "The
Germans are ahead of you. They're like a medieval knight clad in steel
and armed from head to foot, going out to fight a peasant in homespun.
And you're the peasant in homespun, Carstairs."
"England is slow, I admit, but when she once takes hold she never lets
go."
"Unless she takes hold, when there's something to take hold of it's no
use."
"Stop quarreling with him, Scott," said Wharton. "That's my job, and you
can't take it from me. I've set two tasks for myself, one to defeat the
German army and one to change Carstairs, and I tell you confidentially,
John, that I think the defeat of the German army will prove the easier
of the two."
"Look how those banks of fog are rolling up," said Carstairs. "The rain
is decreasing, but in a quarter of an hour we won't be able to see a
thing twenty yards away."
"We shall welcome the fog," said John, who was beginning to feel now
that he was on equal terms with the other two.
"So, we should," said Carstairs, "but does fog conduct sound well?"
"I don't know," replied John. "Why?"
"Because I think I hear a noise a long distance to the right. It has a
rolling, grinding quality, but that doesn't help me to tell what makes
it."
The three stopped, and with all their senses alert listened. Both John
and Wharton heard the sound, but they were unable to tell its nature.
The fog meanwhile was closing in, heavy and almost impenetrable.
"I think," said John, "we ought to see what it is. The thing is
projecting itself squarely across our path. We've got a mission, but the
more news we take the better."
Wharton and Carstairs agreed with him, and finding a low place in the
hedge that ran beside the road they forced their way through it. They
were remounted now, and the rest had made the horses fit for either a
fight or a race.
They rode across the field and then through a belt of open forest, but
the fog was so dense they were compelled to keep close together lest
they lose one another. The rolling sound increased and now other notes
came with it. A little farther and they saw dim lights in the fog.
"An army," whispered Carstairs, "and the torch-bearers are showing the
way through the fog. Now what kind of an army is it?"
"German of course," said Wharton. "We know well enough that no French
force is near here. It's a part of the flood that's bearing down on
France and Belgium."
"There are more trees here to the right," said John. "Let's enter them
and get a better view. Even if we were seen we could escape anybody in
this fog."
"Good idea," said Carstairs. "I'm as anxious as you to know more. This
fair land of France is bearing strange fruit now."
Keeping a wary eye for Uhlans who must be somewhere near they rode with
all the courage of youth into a clump of trees that grew upon a hillock
close to the road. There, in the shelter of the foliage, they looked
down upon what was passing.
"Busy Bertha!" said Wharton.
John beheld a giant cannon, one of the mighty howitzers which he had
treated as a fable, a soldier's idle dream, until he had heard it
booming in the night. But here was another drawn by a powerful motor.
Its monster mouth was turned up at an angle toward the sky, and in the
fog lighted only by the torches the thing became alive to John, huge and
misshapen, dragging itself over the ground, devouring human beings as it
went, like the storied dragons of old.
He glanced at his comrades and saw that the monster had taken hold of
them in the same way. They were regarding it with a kind of awe, and yet
it was not alone. Its sinister shape merely predominated over everything
else. It was preceded and followed by many other cannon, giants
themselves, but overshadowed by the mammoth.
Motors drew most of the great guns, and there were thousands more
carrying soldiers, arms and various kinds of equipment. Behind them came
vast masses of gray infantry, marching with the steady German tread. The
heavy fog, which the torches lighted but dimly, magnified and distorted
everything, and the sight was uncanny and terrifying.
John had the deepest respect for German arms. He knew the strong and
tenacious German nature, and he had had some insight into the mighty
preparations of the empire. Now he saw them rolling down every road upon
France, and, for a little while he did not see how they could be beaten,
not though all the world combined against them. The mammoth cannon
moving slowly on through the fog typified their irresistible advance.
"I think we've seen enough," said Wharton. "We'd better be up and away."
"Too much for me," said Carstairs. "My eye what a gun!"
"It looks more like a dragon to me," said John.
They wheeled and rode away over the wet ground, which gave back but
little sound of hoofs, and soon they were again on their own road,
bearing to the west. They were very thoughtful, but their own risks of
the morning from the hidden bullets were forgotten. The mind of every
one of the three turned forward.