After the company had marched for half an hour, a halt was called,
and their commandant said:
"I daresay you have all guessed the object which we have in view.
We are going to carry out the sentence pronounced by the whole
corps. We are going to have that schoolmaster--that traitor--who
has sold our lives to the Prussians; and who--which is of
infinitely greater importance--has done immense injury to France,
by betraying our intention of blowing up the tunnel. That traitor I
intend to have, tonight; and if I have him, I will hang him, as
sure as fate.
"This lane which we are following leads to Grunsdorf; which,
according to the information I collected before leaving, cannot be
above a mile distant. Now, we must be cautious. It is quite
possible that a detachment of the enemy may have been sent up to
the village, and in that case we might catch a Tartar. Even if
there are no Germans there, we must be cautious, or the bird will
escape. We neither know him, nor the house he lives in and--as he
would naturally guess that his treachery had been discovered, and
that we had come for him--he would slip out into the forest, the
instant he saw the first bayonet approaching. It is essential,
therefore, that we should obtain accurate information of the state
of affairs, and of the position of this traitor's house.
"In another half hour it will be dusk. The Barclays have again
volunteered to go in, and find out what we require. They will go on
at once; and in an hour we will follow, and remain concealed, just
outside the village, until they return.
"Sergeant, you will go forward with them, and agree upon the place
where we shall remain hid, until they join us.
"Now, my lads, you have already received your instructions. Change
your things, and go forward at once."
The distance was farther than they had expected, and it was nearly
dark before the boys entered Grunsdorf. There was no one moving in
the quiet village, for a fine rain was falling as the boys walked
slowly along.
"There is no one to ask, Percy. We must go into the public house,
as arranged, and ask where the priest's house is. It would not do
for two strangers to ask for the schoolmaster. The priest will tell
us where he lives."
So saying, they entered the little cabaret, walked down a long
passage leading from the door, and paused for a moment at the
threshold--for in the room were some eight or ten Prussian
soldiers.
"It is too late to retreat, Percy. Come in boldly."
Lifting their caps, they walked up to an unoccupied table; and
called for some bread, cheese, and beer. The landlord brought the
refreshments, and the boys had scarcely begun to eat when a
Prussian sergeant--who had exchanged a word with the landlord,
evidently in reference to them--strode up to them and, laying his
hand upon Ralph's shoulder, said:
"Who are you, young fellows? The landlord says you do not belong to
the village."
"We belong to a party of woodcutters, from Colmar," Ralph said,
quietly.
Illustration: Among the German Soldiers.
"Oh, indeed!" the sergeant said, in an incredulous voice, "and
where are your party?"
"Out in the forest, at the place where we have begun to fell
trees," Ralph said.
"But people do not come to cut wood without horses, or carts to
take it away," the sergeant persisted.
"They are up in the forest with our father," Ralph said.
"Have you heard anything about this party?" the sergeant asked the
landlord.
The man hesitated a moment. He evidently suspected, also, that the
boys might belong to the franc tireurs; and was anxious to say
nothing which could harm them.
"No," he said, after a pause, "I can't say that I have heard of
them; but I know some of the forest was sold, not long ago, and
they might have come from Colmar without coming this way."
"We only arrived this morning," Percy said, quietly, "so that you
could hardly have heard of us, unless some of the people of your
place happened to pass, when we were at work; and we have not seen
anyone, all day."
"At any rate," the sergeant said, "I shall see if your story be
true, and you will at once take us to the place.
"Corporal, get ten men in readiness."
"Certainly," Ralph said, "if you will allow us to finish our
supper, we will show you the way, at once."
The sergeant nodded, and resumed his seat.
"Look here, Percy," Ralph said, quietly, "we are in a nasty fix,
this time. There is only one thing to be done, that I can see. If
we both go they will shoot us, to a certainty; for although one
might make a bolt in the wood, it is certain we could not both get
away.
"Only one thing is to be done. I will say your foot is bad, and ask
for you to stay here. Directly we have gone, you slip out and
go--as hard as you can--to the place where our men are hid. I will
bring them in that direction. We shall have passed the place before
you can reach it--at least, unless you can get out, at once--and
pass on in the darkness. Take off your shoes, so as to run lightly.
As we pass, fire a volley right into us; and I will make a dart
into the wood, in the confusion."
"But you might be shot by our men, Ralph. They could not possibly
distinguish you, in the dark. No, I will go with the men, and you
make your way to Tempe."
"No, no, Percy, I won't have that."
"Very well," Percy said, doggedly, "then we will go together."
There was a silence for a minute or two, and then Ralph said:
"Look here, Percy, this is madness; however, as you won't do as I
tell you, we will draw lots. I will put a piece of crumb in one of
my hands. You shall guess which it is in. If you guess right, I
will go with the Germans. If you guess wrong, you shall go."
"Very well," Percy said; "I agree to that."
Ralph then broke off a small piece of bread, and put it in one of
his hands--having already, before he made the proposition, broken
off a similar piece, unobserved by Percy. He then put both hands
under the table, and then lifted them again; all the time trying to
appear not to be engaged upon anything out of the way, as he knew
that some of the Germans were watching them.
"Left," Percy said.
Ralph replied by opening the left hand, and dropping the piece of
bread on the table; at the same time putting his right hand back
into his pocket, as if to get out his handkerchief--and dropping,
as he did so, the piece of bread it contained into the place.
"There, Percy, fortune has decided it.
"Goodbye; God bless you. I daresay I shall get out of it but, if
not, give my love to them all, at home."
Then he finished his beer and rose, without giving Percy time to
reply, even could he have done so; but the lad was so much choked,
with the effort to keep from crying, that he could not have spoken.
Ralph turned to the sergeant and--stretching his arms, with the
natural air of a tired boy, objecting to be disturbed--said:
"Now, sir, I am ready to start. I suppose there is no occasion for
us both to go, for my brother has hurt his foot. We shouldn't have
come in, tonight; but it is his first time out with the woodmen,
and he is not accustomed to sleeping out, in the wet."
"Yes, one is enough. He can stay," the sergeant said.
"You had better ask the landlord to show you a corner, where you
can sleep on the straw, Karl," Ralph said. "It is no use waiting
for me. I shall be back in an hour."
With a nod to Percy, Ralph now walked steadily to the door. The
sergeant, with the men told off for the duty, accompanied him. When
they reached the street, it was raining heavily.
"I wonder," Ralph said, "whether the landlord would lend me a sack,
to put on my shoulders."
"Is this place far off, youngster?" the sergeant asked, peering out
into the darkness.
Ralph's heart gave a jump; for he detected, in the tone, a certain
hesitation as to taking the men out in such a night, upon such
slight suspicion. He was, however, too shrewd to show any desire to
dissuade the sergeant from it, so he replied:
"No, it is no distance to speak of; not a mile, at most. We should
be there and back in half an hour, if it was light; but there is
only a path among the woods and it is dark.
"I think we had better have some lanterns, for I do not think I
could find my way without them, tonight; at any rate, it would take
us much longer."
"There, boy, that will do," the sergeant said, laying his hand on
his shoulder. "I am satisfied, now, with the truth of your story. I
thought, for a bit, you had something to do with the franc tireurs
who are about here, but I see I was mistaken.
"Turn in again, lads. It is no use taking you out on a useless
search, such a night as this, among these forests."
Ralph laughed aloud, as they turned to go down the passage again to
the corner.
"Won't father laugh," he said, "when he hears that you thought I
was a franc tireur. We haven't seen any, about Colmar. I don't
think you need be afraid of them, if they ain't bigger or older
than I am."
By this time they had entered the room again, and Ralph saw that
Percy was already talking to the landlord--with whom, indeed, he
was on the point of leaving the room. He turned round, upon hearing
the party come in again, and gave a slight start of pleasure.
"I am soon back, Karl, and am glad that it is so for, frankly, I
too am tired; and it is not a night for a dog to be out. I will go
in with you."
"Stay, landlord," the sergeant said. "Give the boys another glass,
each, before they go off."
"Thank you," Ralph said. "A glass of good beer never comes amiss."
The boys stopped, while the landlord filled their glasses.
"Now," said the sergeant, raising his arm. "Here's a health, to
King William."
"Here's a health, to King William," Ralph repeated. "I am sure I
wish him no harm.
"And now, with your permission, I will be off."
The landlord led them to an outhouse, in which were some trusses of
straw. Just as he was about to leave them, Ralph said, suddenly:
"Ah! I had nearly forgotten about the priest. You have a priest
here, have you not?"
"Of course," the landlord said. "Do you take us for heathens?"
"Not at all," Ralph said, apologetically; "but father told me to
call, and pay him for some masses. My eldest sister was very ill,
when we came away, and father worries about her.
"Where does the priest live?"
"The last house on the left, as you go out from the farther end of
the village. But anyone will show you it, in the morning.
"You don't want the light any longer?"
For the boys had, while speaking, been taking off their boots, and
making a show of preparing to lie down on the straw.
"No, thank you. Good night.
"Oh, I forgot--what do you charge, a cask, for your best beer?
Father wanted to know and, if the price suits, will send down a
cart to fetch it."
The landlord named the price, and then said good night, and left
them.
When he returned to the room where he had left the German soldiers,
the sergeant asked him a question or two concerning the boys; and
the landlord repeated the substance of the conversation which he
had just had. This allayed the last suspicions which had remained
in the sergeant's mind; and he congratulated himself, greatly, that
he had not taken his men out, in such a night, upon a mere
groundless suspicion.
"If the landlord repeats that yarn to the Germans, it will allay
all suspicion," Ralph said, when they were left alone. "Otherwise
the sergeant might have taken it into his head to come to have a
look at us and, although it would not very much matter that he
should discover that the birds had flown, still it would have put
him on his guard, and he might have doubled the sentries, and made
it much more difficult for us.
"We have had a very narrow squeak for it this time, Percy, old
boy."
"Very, Ralph! I would rather go through twenty battles, again, than
feel as I felt when I saw you start, and thought that I should
never see you again, alive."
"Well, we have no time to lose now, Percy. Have you got your boots
on again? If so, let us start at once. The major and men must be
very anxious, long before this. It must be full an hour since we
came."
"It has been the longest hour I ever passed, Ralph. There now, I am
ready, if you are."
"We must go out very quietly, Percy. I have no doubt that they have
got sentries posted all about. They know that we are in the
neighborhood I wish I knew how many there are of them."
"I found out, from the landlord, that all the fifteen men we saw
here were billeted upon him," Percy said. "He told me at first,
when I asked him, that he could do nothing for me in the way of a
bed, because there were three or four in every room. I said that a
stable and a little straw would do for us, very well, and then he
thought of this outhouse.
"At the same rate, there must be at least a hundred men in the
village."
They now opened the door of the outhouse, went quietly out, and
made their way through a garden at the back of the house towards
the wood.
"Stand still a few minutes, Percy," Ralph said, in a whisper, "and
let us see if we can find out where the sentries are placed. I
expect that they form a cordon round the village.
"Lie down by this wall. We can see them, there, and they cannot see
us."
It was well that they did so for, in another minute, they heard a
tread quite close to them; and a Prussian soldier passed, within a
yard of where they were lying. They could dimly see that his hood
was over his head, and hear that he was humming to himself a scrap
of some German air. They lay there until he had again passed the
spot; and then--having found out the direction of his beat--they
crawled noiselessly away and, in five minutes, had reached the edge
of the forest.
They did not enter it, as it would have been impossible--in the
dense darkness--to have made their way without running against
trees, and snapping off boughs, which would have given the alarm.
They therefore skirted the edge--knowing that, with the trees
behind them, they would be invisible at the distance of a yard or
two--and in ten minutes reached the place where their company was
awaiting them. As they approached the spot, they gave a short, low
whistle; which was the agreed sign, among the band, for knowing
each other on night expeditions. It was answered at once and, in
another minute, they were among their friends.
"What has happened?" Major Tempe asked. "We were getting very
anxious about you. I sent Favarts to reconnoiter, ten minutes ago;
and he has just returned, saying that he can hear someone pacing
backwards and forwards on the road, and that he believes it to be a
sentry."
"He was quite right," Ralph said; "the village is full of Germans.
There must--as far as we can see--be seventy or eighty of them, at
the very lowest; and there are probably a hundred. We have been
prisoners, or something very like it, and have had a monstrously
close shave of it.
"But I will tell you all that, when we have time. Do you still
think of carrying out your plans?"
"Certainly," Major Tempe said, "that schoolmaster I am determined
to have, even if we fight our way in, and shoot him in bed. Have
you found out where he lives?"
"No, sir, but we have found out where the priest lives. It is this
end house: the end of the village, on the left-hand side as you
come out."
"Are the sentries very close together?"
"They are pretty close, but not too close to prevent our crawling
between them, unobserved, on such a night as this."
Major Tempe hesitated for a while.
"It would be too hazardous," he said. "We know nothing of the
ground over which we should have to crawl, and it would be hardly
possible for thirty men--with our accouterments, and firearms--to
crawl along without snapping sticks, or striking rifles against a
stone and giving the alarm.
"No, the sentry at the entrance of the village must be silenced."
So saying, the commandant turned to the men who were standing
round, and explained briefly the purport of the whispered
conversation which he had had with Ralph. He then chose two active
young men, and told them to take off their cloaks, belts, and
accouterments of all kinds; and to leave them, with their rifles,
with the men who were to remain at the spot at which they then
were--to cover their retreat, if necessary. They were to take
nothing with them but their sword bayonets--which were not to be
used, except in case of necessity--and a coil of light rope.
Definite instructions were given them as to the manner in which
their attack was to be made.
They then took off their boots, and set off noiselessly upon their
enterprise. They went on rapidly, until they were within plain
hearing of the footsteps of the sentinel; and then very cautiously
and, crouching almost to the ground, so as not to bring their
bodies on a level with his eye, they crept up foot by foot to the
end of his beat. Here they waited a short time, while he passed and
repassed them, unthinking of the deadly foe who, had they stretched
out their hands, could have touched his cloak as he went past them.
At last, the second time he passed them on his way towards the
village, they rose together behind him. In an instant one had
garroted him--with a choking grip, that almost strangled him, and
prevented him uttering the slightest sound--while the other grasped
his rifle by the lock, so as to prevent the possibility of its
being fired. In another instant, the rifle was torn from the grasp
of the almost stupefied man; cords were passed tightly round his
arms and legs; a handkerchief was thrust into his mouth, and
fastened there by a cord going across the mouth and tied behind the
head and, before the bewildered man fairly knew what had happened,
he was lying bound and gagged by the roadside.
One of the franc tireurs now ran back, to tell the commandant that
the men could advance; while the other--selected specially because
he understood a little German--put on the spiked helmet of the
captured sentry, and began to walk up and down, in readiness to
repeat the cry of "All well," should it be passed round.
The whole company were now moved up. Ten men were left at the point
where the sentry was posted, to cover a retreat; or to assist the
sentry, in case of any party coming out to relieve guard, and so
discovering the change which had taken place. The others, led by
the commandant, proceeded forward until opposite the priest's
house, in which lights were still burning; for it was not, as yet,
ten o'clock.
Major Tempe, accompanied only by two men--and by Ralph Barclay, to
interpret, if necessary--now went cautiously up to the house. The
light was in a room on the ground floor. To this Major Tempe
advanced and, looking in, saw the priest sitting reading, alone. He
tapped very gently at the window; and the priest, looking up, gave
a start upon seeing an armed man looking in at the window.
Major Tempe put his finger to his lips, to enforce the necessity
for silence, and made signs to him to open the window. After a
moment's hesitation the priest rose from his seat, came to the
window, and unfastened it; taking great precautions against noise.
"Are you French?" he asked, in a whisper.
"Yes; a commandant of franc tireurs."
"Hush, then, for your life," the priest said, earnestly. "The
village is full of Prussians. The officer, with a soldier as his
servant, is upstairs. He arrived in a state of fever; and is,
tonight, quite ill. The soldier is up with him. I believe the
sergeant, who is at the inn, is in command for to-night. A soldier
was dispatched, this evening, to ask for another officer to be sent
out.
"What can I do for you?"
"I only want you to tell me in which house the schoolmaster lives.
He is a traitor, and has betrayed us to the Prussians. It is owing
to him that they are here."
"He has a bad name, in the village," the priest said; "and we had
applied to have him removed. He lives in the third house from here,
on the same side of the road."
"Has he any Germans quartered upon him?"
"Twenty or thirty men," the priest said. "The schoolroom is full of
them."
"Do you know which is his room?" Major Tempe asked. "It would be a
great thing, if we could get at him without alarming the enemy. I
have thirty men here, but I do not want to have a fight in the
village, if I can help it."
"I know his house," the priest said. "The schoolroom is at the side
of the house, and his sitting room and kitchen on the ground floor
of the house itself. There are three bedrooms over. His room is in
front of the house, to the right as you face it."
"Thank you," Major Tempe said. "Have you a ladder?"
"There is one lying on the ground by the wall, to the left. I hope
you do not intend to shed blood?"
"No," Major Tempe said, grimly. "I think that I can promise that
there will be no blood shed--that is to say, unless we are attacked
by the Prussians.
"Good night, and thank you. I need not say that--for your own
sake--you will not mention, in the morning, having seen us."
The commandant now rejoined his party, and they advanced to the
house indicated. He then chose ten men to accompany him; ordering
the rest to remain at a distance of twenty yards, with their rifles
cocked, and in readiness for instant action. The ladder was then
brought forward by the men selected, and placed against the window.
Major Tempe had, before starting, provided himself--from the
carpenter of the village--with an auger, a small and fine saw, a
bottle of oil, and a thin strip of straight iron. He now mounted
the ladder and, after carefully examining the window--which was of
the make which we call, in England, latticed--he inserted the strip
of iron, and tried to force back the fastening. This he failed in
doing, being afraid to use much force lest the fastening should
give suddenly, with a crash. He had, however, ascertained the exact
position of the fastening.
Having, before mounting, carefully oiled the auger and saw, he now
applied the former; and made a hole through the framework at the
junction of the two sides of the window, just above the fastening.
Introducing the saw into this hole, he noiselessly cut entirely
round the fastening, with a semi-circular sweep, to the junction of
the window below it; and as he did so, the window swung partially
open, by its own weight. He now descended the ladder again, took
off his boots; and ordered two of the men to do the same, and to
put aside all arms, and accouterments, that could strike against
anything and make a noise.
Then, taking a coil of strong rope in his hand, and followed by the
two men, he again mounted the ladder. The instructions to the men
were that one was to enter at once, with him; the other to remain
where he was, until he received the signal. The major entered the
room noiselessly, and dropped at once on to his hands and knees;
and was, a minute after, joined by his follower. He now crawled
forward--groping his way with the greatest caution, so as to make
no noise--until he found the bed. Then, rising to his feet, he
threw himself upon the sleeping man and, in a moment, had him
tightly by the throat with one hand, while the other was placed
firmly on his mouth.
Paralyzed by the suddenness of the attack, and with his arms
tightly kept down by the bedclothes, and the weight of his
assailant, the schoolmaster was unable to struggle.
"Now, light the light," Major Tempe said, quietly.
His follower at once struck one of the noiseless German
matches--which are used almost exclusively, in these parts of
France--and lighted a lamp which was standing upon the table. He
then came up to the bed, and assisted the major to securely gag and
bind the prisoner--whose looks, when he saw into whose hands he had
fallen, betokened the wildest terror.
"Search his pockets," Major Tempe said. "We may find something of
importance."
In the breast pocket of his coat was a pocket book; and in it among
the papers was a letter, from the colonel commanding at
Saverne--which had evidently been brought to him by the officer of
the detachment, that morning--telling him to come down to Saverne,
on the following evening, to guide the troops to the village in
which the franc tireurs were stationed. The letter also enclosed
ten hundred-thaler notes [a thaler is about equal to two
shillings].
"They are part of our blood money," the major said, grimly. "Bring
them away, they are the fair spoil of war.
"Tell Barre to come in."
The man on the ladder now joined them; and together they quietly
lifted the schoolmaster, and carried him to the window. They then
fastened a rope round the prisoner's body, lifted him out on to the
ladder, and lowered him gradually down to the men below.
They now blew out the light, and descended the ladder. The two men
who had waited at its foot raised the prisoner on their shoulders,
and carried him off to their comrades; while the commandant and the
other two men hastily put on their boots, seized their arms and
accouterments and, in two minutes, the whole party were marching
quietly down the village. No incident, whatever, marked their
retreat. The sentry had been undisturbed, during their absence; and
in a few minutes the whole party were out of the village, without
the slightest alarm having been raised.
They followed the road by which they had come, for about a mile;
and then turned off a side path in the forest, to the left. They
followed this for a short distance, only, into the forest; and
then, when they arrived at a small, open space, a halt was ordered.
The prisoner was dropped unceremoniously to the ground, by the two
franc tireurs who carried him on their shoulders, and a fire was
speedily lighted.
Major Tempe then ordered the prisoner to be unbound and ungagged
and, with a guard upon either side of him, to be placed in front of
the company--drawn up in a semi-circle by the fire. The prisoner
was a man of about fifty-five, with a sallow, cunning face. He
could scarcely stand and, indeed, would have sunk on his knees, in
his abject terror, had not the guards by his side held him by the
arms.
"Men," Major Tempe said, "undoubted as the guilt of the prisoner
appeared to be, we had got no absolute proof; and a mistake might
have been possible, as to the name of the village whose
schoolmaster had betrayed us. This letter found in his coat pocket,
and this German money--the price of our blood--leave no further
doubt possible."
And here the major read the Prussian colonel's letter.
"Are you still of opinion that he merits death?"
"Yes, yes," the men exclaimed, unanimously.
"Prisoner," Major Tempe said, "you have heard your sentence. You
are a convicted traitor--convicted of having betrayed your country,
convicted of having sold the blood of your countrymen. I give you
five minutes to ask that pardon, of God, which you cannot obtain
from man."
The miserable wretch gave a cry of terror, and fell on his knees;
and would have crawled towards his judge, to beg for mercy, had not
his guard restrained him. For the next five minutes, the forest
rang with alternate cries, entreaties, threats, and curses--so
horrible that the four boys, and several of the younger men, put
their hands to their ears and walked away, so as not to see or hear
the terrible punishment. At the end of that time there was a brief
struggle, and then a deep silence; and the body of the traitor
swung from a branch of one of the trees, with a paper pinned on his
breast:
"So perish all traitors."
"Louis Duburg," Major Tempe said, "take this paper, with 'Those who
seek a traitor will find him here,' and fasten it to a tree; so
that it may be seen at the point where this path turned from the
road."
Louis took it, and ran off. In a quarter of an hour, when he
returned, he found the company drawn up in readiness to march. He
fell in at once, and the troop moved off; leaving behind them the
smoldering fire, and the white figure swinging near it.