Then they went to the barracks, inquiring, as they had been told to do, for Colonel Menier. Soon they were brought to him, a busy, tired looking officer of the staff. He eyed them keenly.
One glance at Henri seemed to satisfy him. The French boy, so typical of his race, he was ready to take for granted. He asked just one question.
"You speak English well? You can understand thoroughly?"
"Yes, my colonel," answered Henri.
Then the officer turned to Frank.
"You are English—one of our allies?" he asked.
"No, sir." And Frank had to explain, for the hundredth time since the war began, as it seemed to him, his nationality and his mixed blood. He threw up his head a little proudly now as he told of his French mother.
"That is well enough," said the colonel. "You are neutral—in America. But I think—ah, yes, I believe that you Americans remember Lafayette and the help you had from Frenchmen once."
"I am ready to do what I can for France, colonel," said Frank, simply. "That is all I can say."
"Or I, or any of us," said Colonel Menier. "Listen well, then. I shall tell you things that no one else is to know. You, Martin, know the country here? You can find your way about?"
"Yes, my colonel."
"I want you to take certain messages for me to the English headquarters. Where it is to-day, I know. It is here—see, on the map?"
They looked at the spot he indicated, and concealed their surprise. They had supposed the English much nearer the border.
"Where it may be to-morrow I cannot tell. But it is of the greatest importance that the papers I give you be delivered at headquarters. It is so important that we will not trust them to the telephone, to the telegraph, to the field wireless. They are reports of the most confidential nature, having to do with movements that will be of great importance a few days from mow. You will not wearyour uniforms of Boy Scouts for the work in hand."
Neither of them said anything.
"That, you will understand, is because the uniforms would make you more than ever conspicuous to the Germans. I do not think you will be anywhere near the Uhlans. But in war one must not think; or, if one does, one must think of all things that may happen. So you will wear your ordinary clothes. You have one day, two days, three, if necessary, to find the British headquarters. No more. These papers are written on the thinnest of paper. It is so thin that the messages are contained in these marbles that I give you—one to each of you."
They took the marbles and still they made no comment.
"If you are captured and searched, I believe you will have very little to fear. It is not likely that a German officer, no matter how zealous he may be, will be over-suspicious of a lot of marbles in a boy's pocket. You will have a pocket full of them, and they will all look alike.And if the Germans find you are only boys moved by the curiosity of boys to see battlefields, they will not hurt you. I do not believe they will even hold you. Probably they will not even take your marbles away from you, thinking them harmless playthings, never once dreaming of their secret. Only the officer at our headquarters who knows of your coming will be able to distinguish one marble from another. How he will do so, it is better that you should not know."
"Someone then will know that we are coming, my colonel?" said Henri, a smile brightening his face.
"Evidently. When you reach the British lines, you will be challenged, probably arrested and detained. Say to the soldier that he is to give a word to his officer—Mezieres. That will insure your being taken to headquarters. Everywhere, all through the field, the giving of that word will mean that he who gives it is to be taken at once to the nearest staff officer."
"Mezieres. We will remember, my colonel," said Henri. "We will change into our ordinary clothes and start at once. On our return we report to you here?"
Colonel Menier smiled sadly.
"When you return there will be no French troops in Amiens, I fear," he said. "Indeed, I know it. The time to stop and turn to fight is not yet. We shall not play into the hands of the Germans by fighting on their chosen ground. We shall wait until we are ready. This is not 1870 when armies were thrown away rather than retreat to ground where the chances of victory were even, at the worst. Remember that, if you think the retreat is shameful. If, in 1870, the army of Chalons had retreated upon Paris, instead of marching to the trap at Sedan, French history might well be different."
"Then Amiens is to be evacuated, my colonel?"
"It is the order. When you have done your errand, return here or do whatever the British staff may require of you. It will not be for longthat Amiens shall be deserted. We shall return. But whether I shall be here then, I do not know. Farewell! Obey the orders I have given you, and you will deserve well of France."
They saluted then and went to make their preparations for the start.
"Harry," said Frank, "if the Germans are coming to Amiens, your mother must go. She should be where she will be safe."
"You are right, Frank. We will try to persuade her to go. But will she leave her task with the wounded?"
"She can take it up elsewhere."
But though they had expected to have difficulty in persuading her, they found that Madame Martin was already making plans to go.
"The wounded are to be taken to Tours in great numbers," she told them. "They will need nurses there, and I shall go. Henri, will you and Francois come with me?"
"We cannot," said Henri. "There is work for us to do. You would want me to do my share?"
"Of course I do!" she said, her eyes filling with tears. "And so speaks every mother in France to-day! Stay, then, and serve your land in whatever way you can, for France needs even the boys now. Remember, Henri, that somewhere your mother is serving too, and she expects her son to do his whole duty. More, sheknowshe will do it." And her face glowed with pride in her son as she clasped his hand in her own.
"I will remember," said Henri.
Then they went to their room, laid away their newly acquired uniforms of Boy Scouts, and, keeping not even their new badges of which they had been so proud, especially Henri, dressed in their ordinary clothes.
"Let's start on bicycles, anyhow," proposed Frank. "We may not be able to stick to them, but we can save a lot of time on our way to Le Cateau. That's where we shall go first, isn't it?"
"Yes. We had better start for there. You're right about the bicycles, too. Even if we losethem, that does not matter so much," said Harry.
"And, Harry, we've got to pretend to be pretty stupid, if we are caught. You mustn't act as if you knew too much. Don't let the Germans see how you really feel about them. Pretend to be terribly frightened, even if you're not," instructed Frank.
"All right. I see what you mean. Come on, then. Let's be off!"
Already, as they rode through the streets of Amiens, the signs of what was to come were multiplying. Troops were marching out of the town, but they were going south, away from the battle line, it seemed. And the townspeople were not slow in taking the hint. They were gathering such things as they could carry with them, and all those with anything of real value, and with a place to take it, were preparing to get away before the coming of the Germans. The refugees from Belgium had told them lurid tales of the German treatment of captured places; they had no mind to share the fate of their unhappy neighbors in the plucky little country to the north. And so the exodus was beginning.
Henri was very much depressed.
"And this is war!" he said, sadly. "So far, except for the wounded, we have seen only the suffering of women and children. Where is the glory of war of which history tells? I want to see some fighting! I want to know that we are really resisting the invaders of the fatherland."
"You'll know it soon enough," said Frank, with a smile. "You are too impatient, Harry. And you must remember this. While all this is going on, Russia is advancing too. The Austrians have been well beaten all along their front already. Soon it will be the turn of the Germans to meet Russia. They cannot long devote all their energy to France and the British."
"That is so, Frank. But the Russians won't fight here."
"Perhaps not. But it will be the same. For every army corps that Russia sends into Prussia means that Germany can spare so many troopsless for the war on this side. Harry, do you know what I think? I think Germany is beaten already!"
"How can you say that, Frank? We know now that they have pushed us back everywhere—that they are all over Belgium, and are marching on Paris, just as they did the last time—"
"No, not just as they did the last time, Harry. For then they marched on Paris with the field armies of France beaten—one of them captured, the other locked up in Metz. Now the armies of France are still in the field. And I say that Germany is beaten because her one chance in this war was to destroy France as she did in 1870—quickly. If she had done that, she might have been able to turn back, away from France, and meet Russia with her full strength."
"Oh, I see what you mean. But I'll feel better when we turn and fight, instead of running away from them."
"So will I and everyone else, Harry. But the great thing for our side now is to win delay.Every day is as important as a battle. Russia moves slowly, but when she is fully in the field she will have as great an army ready as France and Germany together."
"Well, I hope you are right. Ah, now we are out of the town. We can go a little faster. En avant!"
In the fields women and young boys were working hard, getting in the harvest that the men had abandoned. Never had a countryside looked more peaceful, except that at every bridge they passed now was a sentry, usually a man of the reserve, held back from the front for this sort of duty, while the younger men were at the front to do the actual fighting.
For a long time they were not challenged. The sentries looked at them idly, but decided that they were not at all likely to be Prussian spies, and let them pass. But when they came to the railroad line leading from Amiens to Arras, which they had to cross, it was different. Their crossing was at a culvert, where the road passed under thetracks. Here there was not one sentry, but a post, under the command of a one-legged veteran.
To him they were forced to make explanations, which he received gravely, studying Frank with particular attention.
"So you carry despatches," he said. "You have a word, a countersign, perhaps?"
"Mezieres," said Henri, promptly.
"Very well. Pass, then, but keep an eye open. There were Uhlans here before daybreak."
"Here?"
"They are beginning to show now. We hear they were in Arras yesterday. Some stayed with us. They sought to blow up the culvert here."
Then they went on. And just after they had passed the post, they saw what the crippled veteran had meant when he had said that some of the Uhlans had stayed. They lay beside the road, in their greenish gray uniforms. They were the first German soldiers either of the boys had seen. And, in the field, two old peasants were digging a grave.
The sight was a sobering one. There had been only half a dozen of the Uhlans, and they knew from what they had heard and read that thousands, scores of thousands probably, had already died in the war. But they hadn't seen the others, and these men had lain by the roadside within a few feet of them. For a time neither of the two scouts had much to say.
"There's some real war for you, Henri," Frank said, finally.
"Don't!" said the French scout with a shudder. "It must be, but it is terrible. And only a few hours ago, I suppose, they were riding along as well as you and I!"
Then for a mile or more they rode along in silence. They made good time for the roads were level. There were no interruptions to their progress now. In the fields, as before, they could seethe women and a few old men about the work of the harvest, but in spite of that, there was an air of desolation. Everything seemed to have stopped. And there was a curious something that made itself felt. For a long time, though each of them felt this, they made no comment on it. Finally Frank called a halt.
"Listen, Harry," he said. "There's something curious. It's a noise, and yet it isn't, exactly. It sounds a little like thunder or like the surf when you are quite a little way inland—"
They stopped together, listening.
"I know!" said Henri, suddenly. "It's the guns we hear. The wind is changing and that is why it is coming to us now. There is a battle. In olden days we could see its smoke but now they fight without making smoke. And the noise, too, seems to come from the direction in which we are going."
Once he had named the cause, there was no mystery about the sound. It was less a sound, however, than a beating of the air. There were nosharp reports; it was a steady, ceaseless murmur. But even so, there was no mistaking it. For the first time they were within hearing distance of a battle.
"We will soon be on our way to Berlin, now," said Henri. "That must mean that we have turned—that the great battle has begun."
"It needn't mean that," said Frank. "It may be only artillery covering a rear guard action. I wish you'd remember, Harry, that a retreat may mean mighty hard fighting. Not a rout—a retreat. It isn't easy for an army to move backward. But it's been done by a good many armies that won later."
"Well, come on! We're not getting any nearer to the English by stopping here to talk."
"No. We'll be off again. That noise is getting nearer, Harry. Or louder, anyhow. Perhaps that only means that more guns are going into action."
Somehow the nearness of the battle stimulated them. They found themselves making better time,though they had certainly seemed to be riding as fast as they could before. And all the time the sound of the cannon in front of them grew louder, and the quality of the noise gradually changed. Soon loud explosions began to be distinguishable amid the general hum of battle, and, too, there was an overtone,—a sharper, less steady noise.
"Rifle fire, I think, too," said Frank. "It's lighter than the sound of the cannon, but it seems to be just about as steady. And to think that that's going on, all the way from here to the Swiss border nearly! They're fighting here and near Verdun, and in the Vosges mountains."
"Look over there," said Henri, suddenly. "Do you see? That looks like an omnibus!"
"It is—one of the sort they use in London!" said Frank, in surprise.
The great, unwieldy vehicle came lumbering toward them. It rolled along the road, raising a tremendous cloud of dust, and they could see that behind it were many more. Just behind it, too, a man on a motorcycle came suddenly into view.He was mounted on a high-powered machine, and they could hear the roar of his motor as he came up to them.
"Halte!" he cried, in a broken French. "Arretez vous!"
They were off their machines in a moment, saluting, as he stopped his motor and put one foot on the ground to steady his machine. He was dressed in khaki, and both of them recognized his uniform as that of the British forces.
"We speak English," said Frank.
"The deuce you do! That's good! Well, tell me how to get to Guise. We've lost our blooming way, that's what we've done! And we've got supplies for the troops."
"You're going the wrong way—straight to Amiens," said Henri. "The road to Guise is back four miles, at least. Can you turn your 'buses here? We will guide you. We are going that way."
"You are, are you?" said the English officer. He laughed, curtly. "I doubt that, young fellow!I do, indeed! However, you can come along with us as far as that. Then I'll wash my hands of you. But I can tell you that if you go on much further, you'll get into some fighting that isn't meant for boys!"
They made no reply, for as they understood their errand, they were not supposed to tell every officer they met what they were doing, but were to answer questions only when it was plain that not to do so meant that they would be prevented from reaching their destination.
It was not the easiest of tasks to manage the reversing of the supply train of omnibuses, but the officer in charge was efficient, and it was managed. When the convoy had turned around, he rode up beside the boys.
"Seen any signs of Germans?" he asked.
"Only at a culvert a few miles back," said Frank. He described the fight there as best he could, and the officer looked a little worried.
"As far as that, eh?" he said. "We hadn't heard of their being in that quarter at all. H'm!"
Then he rode on ahead, to what had, until a few moments before, been the rear of his train.
"He's doing well enough, now that he knows his way," said Frank in an undertone to Henri. "But I think he was in a bad way. I've got an idea that the Germans are behind us. Do you know what I think? It's funny for a supply train like this to be here without any escort of troops, isn't it?"
"Yes. I thought of that, too."
"Well, I believe he was supposed to meet a guard, and missed it. Suppose he'd run into the Germans?"
"Yes, that would have been a nice mess! I suppose some English soldiers would have gone hungry to-night!"
The road was rising a little, enough for them to feel the added pull in propelling their wheels. And now, at the crest of the little rise, they saw that the officer had dismounted. He had unstrapped a box from his machine and was setting it up. In a few minutes, as they reached him, hehad set up a tripod-like machine, not unlike a surveyor's instrument, and was flashing a small mirror.
"Hello!" he said. "Field heliograph kit. Ever see it before?"
"No, sir, but I know about it," said Frank, while Henri looked on admiringly. "I know the Morse code, too."
"Do you? Good! Then watch those answering flashes. Check off the message for me."
Harry obeyed, having spotted in that moment the answer of a similar instrument on a hill perhaps five miles away. He read off the Morse signs carefully, and the officer nodded.
"And that's all right," he said, with a sigh of relief. "They'll have an escort here for us as quickly as it can ride over. I suppose you know I signalled for that?"
"Yes, sir."
The officer was plainly puzzled by Frank and Henri. He could not quite understand what they were doing in what was decidedly disputedground. But he had not the instinct that would have prompted a French, and more especially, a German officer, to question them and, if he was not fully satisfied, to put them under restraint.
"All right. We'll be getting on," he said. "Ride along, now. I'm going back. Don't get out of touch. And if I'm not around when we get to the road where we are to turn off for Guise, stop them. They know you're guiding us."
He went off, with a great sputtering of his engine, and Frank and Harry rode along quietly. But Frank felt a strange uneasiness.
"I feel as if there was something wrong around here," he said.
"What do you mean, Frank? Everything's quiet now. Even the firing is not as heavy as it was."
"I know, but just the same, that's how I feel. As if there was something in the air. What's this—a village we're coming to?"
"Yes, and the crossroads where the 'buses must turn, for Guise is just beyond here, too."
"Doesn't look much like war, does it?" said Frank. "Look at that church. I suppose it's been there for centuries. But the clock looks new, doesn't it?"
"Yes, and it's stopped, too," said Henri, with a laugh. "I suppose they are so excited about the war that they've forgotten to wind it properly."
"The time of day doesn't matter much just now," said Frank. "I think—" He stopped short, staring as if fascinated at the clock. Then with a cry to Henri to wait for him, he turned and pedalled furiously back in the direction the officer had taken.
"Who is the commander?" he called to the soldier driver of one of the 'buses.
"Capting 'Ardy," replied the man.
"Thanks," Frank called, and went on as fast as he could. He met Captain Hardy coming toward him. Swiftly he told him what he had seen, and Hardy, tugging at his revolver, sped on. Frank followed but was left far behind, naturally, by the speed of the motorcycle. When he reached thechurch he looked up at the clock again. Captain Hardy's motorcycle was lying in the street, and Henri was staring at the church door greatly puzzled.
"What is the matter?" cried Henri. "The officer came back, jumped off his machine and tore into the church as if his life depended on it. He was pulling out his pistol, too. What—"
The sharp bark of a revolver interrupted him. It spoke three times and there was a cry from above. They looked up, to see the figure of a man dropping from the opening of the clock. A moment later Captain Hardy came down, reloading his revolver.
"Good work, youngster!" he said. "Your eyes were sharp that time! If you hadn't seen the hands of that clock moving we might have been caught in a nice trap! Wait here—I'm going to make a barricade of the omnibuses."
"What does he mean?" cried Henri, almost frantic with curiosity.
"Why, I saw that the hands of the clock hadmoved! You said it had stopped, and I looked up. Then the next time I looked, the hands had moved around—two or three hours!"
"But how—and why—if the clock had stopped?"
"That's just it! That clock must be visible for some distance around, Harry. Suppose a German was there? He could be signalling, couldn't he?"
"Oh, a spy! I never thought of that! You mean he would tell other Germans to come here—that there was work for them to do?"
"Yes. I only hope Captain Hardy stopped him in time."
But Hardy was taking no more chances than he could help. He had guessed as quickly as Frank the probable reason for the strange antics of the clock's face. And now he made his dispositions quickly. Counting the armed drivers of each omnibus, and the extra man each carried, he had less than thirty men. But he drew up several of the omnibuses in a square formation in the centralsquare of the village, and thus had an improvised fort. When he had done that he called sharply to the two boys.
"Get along with you—get away from here!" he said. "If we're going to have a fight it's no place for you. You've done us a mighty good turn—I don't want you running into danger because of it."
Even as he spoke a shot rang out. It was from the direction in which they had come!
"Just in time, too," he said, coolly.
A soldier came up to report.
"Uhlans, sir—a sight of them, too. Coming from the road we were taking. I think we got one of them, sir. Toppled him off his horse, anyhow, sir."
"All right. Let them come," said Captain Hardy. "Go along now, boys. If you see the cavalry sent to escort us, tell them to hurry! We'll try to beat them off until we get help."
He turned away, and Frank picked up his wheel.
Other ears than theirs had heard that firing, too. As they rode along they saw a cloud of dust before them, and soon men and horses emerged from the dust.
"Let's hide in the hedge along the road," said Frank. "Come on—they'll never see us."
"But they won't hurt us, Frank. They're English—our friends."
"Probably they are. But how do we know? They may be more Germans."
"Oh, I never thought of that! If they are—"
"Yes, if they are, it's good-bye to Captain Hardy and his supplies. But we can't help it. We've already done all we could for him."
They watched the oncoming cavalry, but even at a little distance, what with their speed and the dust, it was impossible to tell to which army they belonged. They were either English or German;that was all that could be certain. And that could be deduced from their khaki uniforms. There were no colors to emerge, bright and vivid, from their dun mass; no points of steel, on which the rays of the sun might shine and be reflected.
"If they were French we could tell," said Henri, proudly. "We could see their red and blue uniforms and, if they were cuirassiers, their breastplates!"
"Yes. The French are far behind the times in that," said Frank, a little impatiently. "Nowadays armies don't try to act as if they were on dress parade. They wear uniforms that can't be seen any great distance away."
"The French army fights in the uniform in which its famous victories were won," said Henri.
"And it gets killed in them, too," said Frank. "Gets killed when it doesn't do any good. But that doesn't matter now. Ah, they're English! I can see that now. We needn't tell them to hurry—they're going for all they're worth now.They've heard the firing and are hastening."
The English horsemen swept by. They were riding low in the saddle, urging their horses on. Each man carried a carbine, ready to dismount at any moment and give battle as seemed best. In five minutes they had swept by.
"Two troops," said Frank. "Well, that ought to be enough, though there's no telling how many Uhlans there were. Ah, here come some more!"
This time it was a battery of light artillery—four guns, going along almost as quickly as the cavalry had done.
"That ought to settle it," said Frank, with satisfaction. "Even if they run into a brigade of Uhlans, the guns ought to do the trick. I don't believe they had any guns or we'd have heard them by this time."
"They're still fighting back there," said Henri, as they wheeled their bicycles back to the road. "I can hear the firing."
"Yes, and I think it must be a pretty lively skirmish, too," said Frank. "Captain Hardywould keep them at it. Listen! The Uhlans must outnumber them three or four to one. I hope the others get up in time."
A few minutes gave assurance that they had. They heard the firing still more loudly; then, a few minutes later, the heavier sound of the guns chimed in. And then there was silence behind them.
"Score one for our side," said Frank. "We know a little more than we did before, too. I think it's a safe guess that the Germans aren't in this direction. We can go along without worrying about them."
As he said that they were coasting down a little hill, at the bottom of which, Henri had said, another road crossed the one on which they were riding just around a little turn in the road. And as they took that turn, their feet off the pedals, they almost fell off their wheels in astonishment. For the transverse road was gray-green with soldiers; soldiers with spiked helmets, marching south!
A moment later they did fall off their wheels, deliberately, and at a common impulse, because it was the only way there was of stopping before they were in the midst of the German infantry. There was just a chance that they had not been seen and they took it, and fled to the hedge again, leaving their bicycles behind. There was no time to bother about such trifles now. The thing to do was to make good their escape, if they could.
"Whew!" said Frank, whistling. "That was a close shave, if you like! Where on earth did they come from? And how is it they didn't see the English cavalry?"
"Perhaps they didn't care, if they did see them," said Henri, wide-eyed with astonishment. "Look, Frank, there must be thousands of them! Where can they be going?"
"Where did they come from? That's more to the point!" said Frank, vastly excited. "I know! They got the railway—that's what they did! They must have come through Arras. Jove, though, they took a terrible risk, Harry! Because,no matter how many of them there are, they can't even begin to compare with the allies in numbers—not around here. But how can they be here without being seen? What are our aeroplanes doing?"
"I haven't seen one all day—not since we left Amiens, at least," said Henri. "But I know where they are—flying over the enemy's lines, trying to locate the guns exactly. That's what they try to do, you know. They decide just where a masked battery is, and then our fellows can drop their shells right among their guns. The gunners can't get the range properly any other way. There isn't any powder smoke to help them any more, you know. So I suppose that's where they are."
"Then I tell you what I think happened. I think they cut the railroad, or, rather, they didn't cut it. I bet they ran those fellows down there through on trains—right through our army."
"How could they do that?"
"Easily—no, not easily. It wouldn't be easyat all. But it's possible. They've caught a lot of our men, haven't they? Well, couldn't they use their uniforms so that it would look as if it was a French or an English train? Let me have your field glass. It's better than mine."
They were sheltered now and safe from observation. They could, nevertheless, see the German column strung out along the road. It seemed to cover at least two or three miles of the road, and there was no way of being sure that there were not more men.
"I think they've got pretty nearly five thousand men," Frank decided finally. "They're in light marching order, for Germans, too. No camp kitchens—nothing. Only what the men themselves are carrying. They're making a forced march to get to some particular place. Queer to use infantry, though, but I suppose they couldn't get horses through with whatever trick it was they played."
"They're beginning to turn off," said Henri. "See, the head of the column is slipping throughthat field over there. They must know this country as well as I do or better. That's a short cut that will take them to Hierville."
"I don't believe they're going to Hierville or any other village now," said Frank. "Tell me, are those woods I can see in front of them at all thick?"
"Yes, they're old, too. They've been preserved for a long time. That's the oldest part of the old park of the Chateau d'Avriere. It was one of the castles that wasn't destroyed in the revolution."
"Well, they're going to take cover in those woods. This is all a part of a mighty careful plan, Harry. I think they have turned a real trick. If the French or the English knew that the Germans were in any such force as this so far south and west as this they would be acting very differently, I believe. Their aeroplanes have certainly failed them here."
"They're on the line of retreat, if we were beaten again in that battle we've been hearing all afternoon."
"I don't think it was a real battle at all, Harry. I think it was just rear guard fighting. But I tell you what we've got to do. We've got to get through and tell about these troops. Of course, they may know all about them at headquarters, but it doesn't look so. We had better wait here until we make fairly sure of what they're going to do and until there isn't any more danger of our being seen, too. They'll have scouts out all around them. We were mighty lucky to get through so long as we have. But it's going to get dark pretty soon, and then we ought to be safe."
They lay in their improvised shelter. It took the Germans a long time to pass, but at last the road below was free of them, and the last of them slipped into the sheltering obscurity of the woods.
"We ought to find out if they're staying there, or if they are still moving on," said Frank. "It's risky, but I think we ought to take the risk. You stay here, Henri. I'll try to get around, and come back."
"Why should I stay here? If there's a risk,why shouldn't I take it just as well as you?"
"Because one of us has got to get through. If I'm caught, you'll still be here and able to get through to headquarters with what we've found out already. And the reason I'd better go is that I'm an American. If they catch me they're not so likely to hold me."
"But I don't think it's fair for you to take the risk. I ought to do it," said Henri, stubbornly.
"I don't care what you think," said Frank, "I'm going. Au revoir, Harry!"
"Wait a minute! How are you going to find out?"
"I'll try to skirt the wood."
"You needn't do that. Keep straight on the road we were taking, instead of turning off at the foot of the hill. About half a mile beyond the crossroads the road rises again, and you'll find a windmill. If you climb to the top of that you can see beyond the woods, and you ought to be able to tell if the Germans are moving out of the woods."
"Splendid!" said Frank. He admired Henri'sreadiness, once he had made up his mind that Frank was going alone, to help him with his greater knowledge of the countryside. Some boys would have been sullen, and would not have volunteered that information, he was sure.
Before Frank started on his lonely errand, he carried Henri's bicycle back of the hedge. Then he mounted his own, and coasted down the hill. His object was to seem entirely indifferent, should some German scout or straggler spy him, but plainly the Germans had decided to leave the road uncovered.
"I guess they decided it was better to risk being surprised than to give themselves away," he said to himself. "Otherwise they'd have been pretty sure to leave an outpost of some sort here because this road looks like just the place for troop movements. It looks more and more as if they had really managed to make a secret of this column."
It did not take him long to find the windmill of which Henri had told him. The place was deserted; there was no one to oppose his entry. And,when he reached the top, he found that there was an excellent view of the country for several miles, a much better one than they had had from their shelter on the hillside above the Germans.
He could see the woods into which the invading troops had disappeared, looking dark and mysterious in the deepening twilight. There was no sign of life about them; no smoke rose above the treetops. And no Germans were beyond them. Then his guess had been right, he decided. They had made for those woods to obtain shelter, and they relied upon the fact that the allies did not know of their presence. It was a daring move; it might well have been successful, save for the accident of the two boys who had observed it. Indeed, even now there was a chance, and something more than a chance, that the German object, whatever it was, might be attained. Frank and Henri were a long way yet from having reached the British headquarters. Unknown dangers and obstacles lay between them and their destination.
"With the German attack developing so quicklyas this, we don't know where we may not run into them," mused Frank, as he descended from the windmill and mounted his wheel, preparing to start back to join Henri. "They may be anywhere. I don't want to see them win, but they certainly are wonderfully good fighters. They have good leaders, too."
When he reached Henri he found that his French comrade was lighting the lamp of his bicycle. With a laugh he blew out the flame.
"But it's dark and we'll be arrested if we ride without a light," said Henri, protestingly.
"That law was made for peace, not for war," said Frank. "When we know as little about where the Germans are as we do, I'm not going to take any chances. We'll ride with lights out, thank you. Come on!"
As they rode along in the growing dusk, close together, Frank told what he had seen.
"That was a good guess, then," said Henri. "But, Frank, how can they know so well what to do? You would think that they had been broughtup in this country, those German officers!"
"They might as well have been," said Frank. "I've heard stories of how they prepare for war. They have maps that show every inch of land in this part of France. They know the roads, the hills, even the fields and the houses. They have officers with every regiment who know where ditches are that they can use as trenches, and who have studied the land so that they recognize places they have never seen, just from the maps that they have studied until they know them by heart. And it isn't only France that they know that way, but England, and some parts of Russia, too. Why, I've even heard that they've studied parts of America, around New York and Boston, almost as thoroughly."
Henri cried out in anger.
"That is how they have behaved!" he cried. "They have been planning, all these years, then, to crush France!"
"Oh, cheer up, Harry," said Frank. "I guess you'll find that your French staff officers have returned the compliment. Unless I'm very much mistaken, any one of them could tell you just as much about the country in Alsace and Lorraine, and all through the Rhine Province, as the Germans could of this section. It wasn't so in the last war. Then French officers were losing their way in French territory. That was one reason why the battle at the Speichern was lost—because French reinforcements lost their way. But this time France got ready, too."
"Shall we still make for Le Cateau?"
"There's nothing else to do, until we find out that the staff has changed its location."
Riding along in a light that made men out of the shadows of trees and regiments of the shocked corn in the fields was eerie work. But neither of them was afraid. They were fired by a purpose to serve the cause in which they had enlisted. And they were thrilled, too, by the knowledge of the German force upon which they had spied, themselves unseen.
And then all at once, out of a dark spot inthe road, appeared a man, holding a horse.
"Halt!" he cried, in a guttural voice.
They obeyed, perforce. And when they were close enough, they saw that he was a German cavalryman, one of the dreaded Uhlans.
For a moment Frank's heart sank, but suddenly, a hoarse laugh surprised him and revived his spirits. It was the Uhlan. He was laughing at them.
"Kinder!" he said, deep down in his throat.
"Nothing so alarming in this," thought Frank, experiencing quick relief, and awaiting the Uhlan's next words.
"I have my way lost," he said, in a guttural English. "Kannst du Englisch sprechen?"
"I am an American," said Frank, at the same time nudging Henri, and hoping that he would understand it as a signal to keep still. "Where do you want to go?"
"That matters not," said the German, cautiously. "Only tell me, which way from here is Amiens?"
They told him.
"And where does the road to St. Quentin turn off from this one?"
"It is the next turn, to your left," said Frank, truthfully.
"Good! Then I will be going. Go home, kinder. You will get into trouble if you stay hereabout."
He vaulted upon his horse, and the next moment they heard hoofs clattering along the hard road, and, looking after him, could see the sparks as the iron clashed with the flint of the road's surface.
"That was easy!" said Frank, with a gasp of relief.
"He was alone," said Henri.
"Carrying despatches, I expect," said Frank. "He wouldn't tell us where he was going, naturally, but I bet he's looking for those other troops we saw. Dangerous work, too. But I wonder where he came from. If there are more Uhlans in front, we may get into trouble."
"Suppose we hide the bicycles near here andgo along through the fields? Don't you think that will be better, Frank?" was Henri's cautious suggestion.
"Yes, I suppose it will, though it will be slower, too."
"Of course. But if we are going to be stopped all the time along this road, we'll really save time in the end by doing it."
So they made a cache, as Frank told Henri it should be called, hiding their wheels so that they would have a chance of recovering them if they came back this way. They marked the spot not only by landmarks, but by the stars, which were beginning to dot the sky now.
"There may be fighting here," said Frank. "And if there is, this place may look very different before we see it again. If there is a battle the trees will go, and the fences, and all the houses for if they are not burned deliberately, the shells will destroy them."
"Look, Frank, what is that?"
Henri had turned and was pointing now to thenorth. There a stream of white light shot into the air, then dropped, and left only its reflection. But in a moment others joined it, and the whole sky to the north was brilliantly lighted. It was like a display of Northern Lights, only nearer and even more brilliant.
"Searchlights, of course," said Frank. "They can throw them on the trenches—and they're good to guard against aeroplanes and dirigibles, too. At night, you see, there'd be a chance for aeroplanes to fly very low and do a lot of damage."
"Can't they hear the engines from the ground?"
"Not always. They have mufflers on a good many aeroplane motors now, so that they don't make any more noise than a quiet automobile."
"I didn't know that. Well, there's one good thing about the searchlights. We know which way to go. Come on."
"All right. The more I think of it, the better it is not to be on the roads. Here in the fields we'rea lot less likely to run into stray parties. And I'd just about as soon meet Germans as allies. If they're retreating and having trouble, they might hold us up as long as the Germans would. They wouldn't believe we really had despatches."
For a time they made good, steady progress. The roar of artillery fire in front of them had been resumed, and now it filled the air, proving that they were much closer to the battle. The great waves of sound beat against their ears, making their heads swim at first, but gradually they grew used to it, and could hear other and more trivial sounds—the chirping of night insects and the occasional hooting of owls.
"I don't hear the rifle fire," said Henri, after a time. "Only once in a while, that is. Why is that, I wonder? Are the big guns drowning it?"
"No. Because if that were the reason, we wouldn't hear it at all. I think they don't do that at night. It's just a case of trying to find the places where the enemy's troops are massed, and keeping up a steady fire of shells to drive themout. Maybe the searchlights help. They've been fighting all day, you know, and even soldiers have to have some rest. They have to eat and sleep or they can't keep up the work."
They crossed more than one road, but stuck to the fields, travelling in a straight line as nearly as they could figure their course. When they had decided to join the Boy Scouts, both had studied the stars, since a knowledge of the heavens is one of the most important things about scouting, and they found what they had learned very valuable now. Thus they could keep their bearings, though owing to their desertion of the roads, Henri confessed that he had very little idea of where they were.
"Along the roads one has landmarks," he said. "I have gone all through here, over and over again. My father used to drive this way very often in our automobile."
"Well, we can't go very far wrong," said Frank, cheerfully. "All we've got to do is to follow the old German maxim, 'March on the cannon thunder!' That was their one rule in 1870, youknow and a very good rule it proved too."
So they went on. And they still seemed to be a long way from the seat of the heavy artillery firing when a challenge halted them, as they were about to cross a road.
"'Alt! 'Oo goes there?" called a cockney voice sharply.
"Friends," cried Frank, instantly.
"'Alt, friends, while I 'as a look at you," said the sentry.
"Call your officer, please. We are carrying despatches," said Frank.
"I'll call 'im, all right. My word! You ain't nothin' but kiddies, you ain't! 'Ere! Corporal of the guard! I sye! Corporal of the guard!"
He raised his voice in the shout, and a minute or so later a corporal appeared.
"Came up to me, sir," said the sentry. "Said as 'ow they wanted me to call the officer of the guard. Carryin' despatches, they sye they is."
"All right," said the corporal, briskly. "Come with me, my lads. Step smartly when you'retold or you may be shot," in a genial voice.
They followed him through a field that seemed deserted, then came to a small cluster of tents, where they stopped.
"Wait here," said the corporal. "I'll bring the lieutenant."
They did not have long to wait before a young officer approached them.
"My word!" he said, when he saw how young they were. "What are you youngsters doing here?"
"We're looking for headquarters, sir," said Frank. "We are carrying despatches from Amiens."
"All right! Give them to me, and I'll see that they're forwarded, my lads," said the officer, with a grin.
"We can't do that, sir," said Frank. "Our orders are to carry them to headquarters—and to give the word Mezieres."
"Ah, that's different, now," said the officer. "Corporal, give me two men to take these despatch-bearers through the lines," came the order.
The giving of the word had made a great change in his attitude. It was plain that before that he had not taken them seriously, but had supposed them to be playing some prank. Now, however, he looked at them curiously.
"Boy Scouts?" he suggested.
"Yes, sir," said Frank. "Detailed to special duty, without uniforms."
"I see! Jolly plucky of you, I call it. I say, you're not French, my lad, are you? How did you get here? Well, never mind! Here's your escort. Be off with you, now."
Their troubles were over now. Within five minutes they were at headquarters. There a weary staff officer received them. They saluted.
"Very well," he said. "Give me your despatches."
Each of them produced his handful of marbles from his pocket, and laid them solemnly before the major. He stared, first at the marbles, then at them.
"What sort of a silly prank is this?" he roared. "Do you think we've nothing better to do than to waste time in jokes? If you were men—"
"We are obeying orders, sir," said Frank, quietly. "Those are the despatches Colonel Menier at Amiens gave us to deliver. He said that only one officer here would know what they meant, and how to get the despatches."
"O, I beg your pardon," said the major. He took down his telephone. "Ask if despatches are expected from Amiens," he said, into the instrument. "And find out who is in charge."
"There is another matter, sir," said Frank. "We saw German troops as we came here."
"Uhlans. Yes, they're all around behind us. One squadron of them was cut up when it attacked a convoy. There aren't many of them."
"No, sir, I didn't mean Uhlans. There is a force of infantry—five thousand men, we estimated—"
"What?" thundered the major, springing to his feet, "You must be dreaming! Where did youthink you saw them? And where were they?"
Frank explained.
"It sounds incredible," said the major, frowning. "Come! I'll take you to General Smith-Derrien. If that's true, it's highly important news. Here, show me on this map just the place where you say you saw them."
Frank and Henri pointed at once to the wood in which the German infantry had vanished, then followed the major out of the room.
The first impression they had of General Smith-Derrien was of his absolute calmness. The major had been excited when he heard the report of the German infantry in the woods. But when they entered the room in which sat the British general who was responsible for the retreat, as they guessed, they saw a quiet-faced man with smiling eyes, who listened attentively to the reports of the officers who were constantly hurrying up to him, spoke a word or two in answer, and turned, imperturbably, to the next comer.
Their guide left them near the door.
"Wait a minute here," he said. "I'll tell the General your story. But he'll want to speak to you himself. He always does."
Frank watched the British leader closely as he turned to the major, who now went up to him. If the news moved him, he gave no signof his emotion. Instead he nodded quickly, once or twice; then he looked over toward Frank and Henri. The major turned to them, beckoning, and they went up. General Smith-Derrien was sitting at a table. Before him was an ordnance map of the section covered by his operations.
"Now tell me exactly what happened, as quickly as you can," he said. "You saw these Germans—just where? Point it out on the map. Give me your position and the road they took."
Frank and Henri studied the map a moment. They traced their own course from Amiens; soon they found the spot. The map was on a very large scale, and it showed the hills and a great deal of detail. It was easy to explain just where they had seen the Germans.
"They went into the woods, you say," said the general. "But why did you think they stayed there? Why shouldn't they have gone on?"
"I went along the road to a spot where I could see beyond the woods, sir," said Frank. "And there was no sign of them."
"You did? That was excellent—regular scouting. Oh, I fancy I understand! Boy Scouts, are you?"
"Yes, sir," they echoed together.
"Well, if your information is exact—and I have no reason to doubt it, of course—you did a very fine piece of scouting, and I shall be glad to see that you get the proper amount of credit for it, when the time comes. Now your information is most valuable. But before I can act on it, I must be absolutely certain that it is accurate. Will one of you help one of my scouts to determine this?"
"Let me go, sir," said Frank, quickly. "I was the one who saw the other side of the woods—"
"But I know the country best," protested Henri. "And—"
"I think you'd better go," said the general to Frank. Perhaps he thought Frank was English; in any case he selected him. "I don't think it will be dangerous at all, or I shouldn't let you go. We haven't started using boys in this war yet. Major, you will see to it that a start is made assoon as possible!" turning to that officer.
The major saluted.
"Yes, sir, at once," he said. "The one who does not go can deliver the despatches they brought from Amiens—a handful of marbles!"
"Eh? What's that? Those are the despatches from Colonel Menier. I'll take those!"
Plainly, since he knew of them, he was the officer to whom they should be delivered. So Frank and Henri, not without some misgivings, since the major's annoyance at the sight of the marbles had rather depressed them, handed over their marbles. General Smith-Derrien picked them up, weighed them in his hand, and finally selected two, to the undisguised amazement of his staff. But when he pressed a hidden spring, and each marble flew back, showing that it was hollow, cries of admiration came from those who were close by.
"Very well. They are in good order," he said, after a glance at the thin but tough paper. "I will send an answer by the scout who remains here."
The major was already moving toward the door, and Frank, with a quick grasp of Henri's hand and a salute for the general, followed him. He was sorry for Henri's disappointment, but he had made up his mind when they left Amiens that whenever possible, he himself would take any risks that were to be run. No one would care greatly if anything happened to him, since his parents were dead, and his only other close relative was his uncle, of whom he had seen very little. But Henri's mother was alive, and, moreover, she had troubles enough. Her husband was at the front, and there was no telling whether or not he would ever return.
"Come along, young 'un," said the major. His name, Frank learned, when a passing officer spoke to him, was Cooper. "Know what you're going to do?"
"I'm to help a scout to determine the position of the Germans we saw," said Frank.
"Yes, but how? In an aeroplane, my lad! I envy you. They've never let me go up in one ofthe blooming things yet—and just because I happen to be assigned to a special job here with the staff. A lot of fun this war is going to be for me! We've been at it pretty nearly a month, and I haven't been under fire yet!"
Frank found it hard to conceal his delight. He had always wanted to have the experience of riding in an aeroplane, but never before had he seen even a remote chance that it would be gratified. Now he was to have fulfilled one of his most cherished ambitions—and in what a way! To fly with one of the wonderful aviators of whom he had been hearing ever since the war began, and over hostile territory. Risk! What if there was?
In his own room Major Cooper sent an orderly flying, and in a few moments he returned, followed by a spare, tall man in a uniform differing slightly from that of the regular troops. He wore a heavy sweater, and on his head was a headgear resembling, Frank thought, that worn by football players in America.
"You sent for me, Major?"
"Yes, Captain Greene. You'll have to make a flight to-night. This lad is one of two Boy Scouts who have reported seeing German infantry in rather considerable force south and west of our position here. He will show you on the map just where he says they are lying up. The general wants to verify this report or disprove it as quickly as possible. Your orders are simply to make a reconnaissance and to run no avoidable risks. If it is possible, ascertain the facts without betraying your own presence. I have detailed you because you have a silent motor."
"Very well, sir," said Captain Greene. "Now, then, my lad, sharp's the word. Show me just where you say these Germans are."
For the third time Frank pointed out the spot on the map, and the flyer whistled.
"Don't wonder you want to know where they are!" he said. "If that's so, it's a pretty big sell for us flying chaps—eh, what? We rather fancied there wasn't a chance for them to do anything that we didn't know all about as soon as it was done."
"Exactly," said the major, rather dryly. "Well, here's your chance to make up for errors of omission. Get the facts, and get back as quickly as you can."
"All right. Double quick, young 'un. What's your name, eh? Might as well be sociable!"
Frank told him, and liked the tall aviator immensely. But there was no more talk between them as he followed the captain to the outside. He had all he could do to keep up with the Englishman's great strides without trying to talk too. Greene led the way to a park-like enclosure, where, under shaded electric lights that lit the ground fully but were so screened that no betraying flashes showed from above, a dozen aeroplanes stood, gaunt and ghostlike in the night.
"See those lights?" said Greene. "If one of those German Johnnies in a Taube came along he could make a lot of mess by dropping a couple of bombs down here. An aeroplane's delicate enough as it is. A bomb will put it out of business in no time. Here we are! Wait till I try the motor andsee to my tank. If you run out of petrol at five hundred feet you can't always find a garage where they'll sell you more!"
The tank was full, however. His mechanic had seen to that. And the engine responded beautifully to the first test.
"All right," said Greene. "In with you! Ever been up?"
"No. This is my first trip," said Frank.
"Easy enough, if you don't get scared. Keep perfectly still. No matter what happens, don't touch me or anything except the grips for your hands that you'll find there. She's apt to rock and kick like a broncho sometimes but you can't fall out, because you'll be strapped in. Remember, now, don't touch me and don't touch any levers or anything else you see."