Chapter 12

A CLOSE SHAVE

Blind instinct sent them both running, though a moment of reflection would have told them that to run was the worst thing they could have done. Ridder had been asleep and he did not arouse himself fully at first. And perhaps that saved them. He did fire after them once but his aim was bad, and before he could fire again they had leaped a hedge and dropped out of his sight into a sunken road that crossed the fields parallel to the course they were taking toward the river road to Huy. They had a good start and Ridder was fifty yards behind them when they reached the shelter of the road. Here Paul pulled himself together.

"Stop!" he said to Arthur, seizing his chum by the arm. "Here, get right into the shadow of the hedge here, at the side of the road--there's almost a ditch, too. If he follows us, he may go straight on, and he won't know which direction we took. It's the best chance we have to escape."

"Do you think he recognized us?" asked Arthur.

"I don't know. But our running away like that made him suspicious--we can be sure of that much, anyhow. Look out! I hear him coming!"

Down they crouched, just in time. Ridder came tumbling through the hedge, growling fiercely.

"If I were sure!" he said fiercely and under his breath, so that they could scarcely hear him. "Those verflutchen boys! If I knew that they were the ones who stole my papers!"

In the middle of the road he paused and rubbed his eyes. He reeled a little as he stood; it was plain that the man was in the last stages of exhaustion. The two scouts, even without knowing in detail what the duties of a spy in wartime might be, could understand Ridder's exhaustion. They could guess how much he must have done since they had last seen him.

As they crouched, watching him, he dropped his head, like a dog looking for a scent suddenly vanished, and seemed to hesitate, wondering which way to go. He circled around, apparently looking for something to guide him. The road was hard, and baked dry. There had been no rain for a good many days, and so their footprints did not show. Ridder tossed his head at last in decision. The two scouts began to breathe again in a more normal fashion when he turned down the road and went along, still muttering. He swayed from side to side as he walked.

"Poor chap!" said Paul, finally. "I feel sorry for him! And I'm certainly glad he was so tired! I wouldn't give much for our chances if he had caught us. He knows by this time, you can be sure, what we did with those plans."

"I don't feel sorry for him--he's a spy!" said Arthur.

"We're spies, too," said Paul, soberly. "And a good many Belgians will be spies, and Frenchmen, too, before this war has been going on very long. It's not nice work. There isn't the glory and the excitement about it that there is for the soldiers who are doing the fighting. But a spy does more for his country, if he succeeds in getting some really important information, than a whole regiment of men who do nothing but fight."

"I suppose so," admitted Arthur, grudgingly. "It's safe to go on now, isn't it?"

"Yes. I don't think we'll find our friend Ridder in the next field! And I hope we won't run into any more Germans of any sort."

As they walked along, the searchlights still flashed to their right and at intervals sounds of heavy firing came to them from the same direction. But the steady, ceaseless cannonading was over, and there had been no renewal of the sounds that indicated fighting at close quarters. Liege, it was easy to understand, was holding out.

Their course across the fields finally brought them to the river road, where they felt themselves at home. This road they knew thoroughly, having traversed it many and many a time. Now they were well on their way to Huy and felt that there was no reason now why they should not arrive safely. But suddenly Paul stopped.

"There's no use in our getting to Huy before morning, before it's light, anyway," he said. "The sentries wouldn't let us by. You know this is wartime. We're not used to that yet. Everything is changed. I'm tired, and I know you are, too. I think the best thing we can do is to get some sleep. We can't tell what we may not have to do after we get to Huy, and we'd better be fresh and ready for whatever turns up."

"I am tired," admitted Arthur. "I think you're right. Where shall we sleep?"

"We'll find a place before long," said Paul. "How peaceful it is here! If we couldn't see the searchlights and hear the guns now and then there'd be nothing to make it seem as if there was real fighting going on within a few miles."

Houses were fairly frequent as they went along, but all were dark. Their occupants, if they had not fled from the nearness of war, were all asleep. They were farm houses in the main; here, as everywhere in Belgium, the land was cut up into innumerable tiny patches, even smaller than the peasant farms of France. In the fields were endless rows of vegetables--beans, turnips, cabbages, and garden truck of all sorts. This was the sort of country that had made Belgium known for years as the vegetable garden of Europe. Finally they stopped near a dark house, and made themselves comfortable in the lee of a haystack. And there they slept until the light of the sun came to rouse them. They awoke to see a peasant boy staring stupidly at them.

"Good-morning!" said Paul, rousing himself. "Can we get breakfast in your house if we pay for it?"

"I suppose so," said the peasant. "My mother may have some for you. My father has gone to fight."

They followed him to the little cottage, and there they got what the woman could give them for breakfast--eggs and milk, as it turned out. In a few days, though she did not realize this, neither would be obtainable thereabout at any price; the German host would have spread over the countryside like a swarm of locusts. Perhaps it would pay for what it ate, but it would eat at all events, regardless of that, and the money it might leave in the place of the food it took would be valueless, since money can buy nothing when there is nothing to be sold.

But these were things of which neither the peasant woman nor the two scouts thought. They ate their breakfast with relish, not having realized until they saw the food how hungry they really were, and then, refreshed in mind and body, they began the last stage of their journey to Huy. They had not so very far to go and they entered the Belgian city to the tune of the distant cannon at Liege.

In Huy there was little to make one think of war. People were grouped in the streets, waiting eagerly for the news of what was going on at Liege, for all sorts of rumors were spreading about. On one side it was said that England had already declared war and had destroyed the German fleet; on the other that England had refused to fight at all. But most of the people of the town went about their business in the most unconcerned way, as if the invasion of the country could not possibly affect them, and their own affairs were still the most important things in the world for them.

There was only a small force of Belgian troops in Huy, as Paul and Arthur soon learned. And, to their dismay, they found that the officer in charge refused absolutely to listen to them! He was a pompous, greatly excited little man, most of whose service had been in the Congo, and he laughed at the suggestion that they could have information of value.

"But if you will send a wireless message to Liege Major du Chaillu will tell you that our information is correct," pleaded Paul. "At least he will tell you that we gave valuable news before, and that we can be trusted."

"There are other things for the wireless to do in times like these," said the officer pompously. "Be off with you, now. I have no time to waste on boys!"

"No wonder the Germans can win!" said Paul, bitterly. "What chance has an army with an officer so stupid as that?"

He had given up the attempt to convince the commandant, for it was obvious that they would only waste time and breath if they persisted.

"But what are we to do?" asked Arthur. "We must let them know in some way."

"We must go to Brussels," said Paul. "There are those there who will know that we can be trusted, and we may find a way of getting a wireless message through to Major du Chaillu."

But, as they soon found, it was one thing to decide to go to the capital, and quite another to accomplish their desire. The railway was choked by military movements. Troops and supplies of all sorts had usurped every means of travel, except by walking. Though Huy itself might appear to be normal, no other part of the country was, as it was easy to discover when an attempt was made to do even the most ordinary things.

"Well, if we can't ride, we can start walking," said Paul. "If we wait here we'll never get anywhere, that's sure. There's more confusion here than there was at Liege, and a lot less reason. The thing to do is to get away before they close the town up absolutely, so that we can't even do that."

But even that resolution could not be carried out without difficulties. For some reason--they learned later that it was because new troops were advancing from that direction--they were not allowed to pass along the road leading to Namur, which was the logical one for them to take in an effort to reach Brussels. Their plan had been to pass through Gembloux and Wavre, after turning around Namur. They were obliged, instead, to start back toward Liege, turning north after a few miles and heading for the railroad at Saint Trond.

"If we get that far I think we'll have a chance to get on a train," said Paul. "From all I hear, there will be troops there, covering Brussels."

"Covering Brussels? But it's nowhere near the city!" exclaimed Arthur in great amazement.

"That doesn't matter, Arthur. Brussels will be defended at long range or not at all. If the Germans get past Tirlemont and Haelen they will get to Brussels, I think, without any more opposition."

"But why? There are no fortifications there."

"I believe there are--by this time," said Paul. "Earthworks, at least. You see, it would simply mean terrible destruction and suffering if a city like Brussels were defended. It has no forts, and it would be a simple matter for the Germans to stand off and bombard it. It is like that with Louvain. It would be better to let the Germans capture that town without resistance than to force them to bombard it and destroy the famous old buildings there. If a great city cannot be defended by an army fifty miles away, it is better not to defend it at all."

The idea of such a tame yielding of Brussels, where he had been born and had lived most of his life, seemed to depress Arthur greatly. For a long time they went along in silence. Then a peasant came along with a cart and offered them a ride. This man seemed to know little or nothing of the war, although, like them, he must have been able to hear the sullen growling of the cannon from Liege, that showed the fortress was still holding out. They rode for several miles with this man, until he had to turn off. Then they began walking again. And now, before them, directly in their path but still some considerable distance away, they saw smoke rising on the horizon, a pall heavy, brownish smoke with patches of black. It was not at all like the faint haze that hung over Liege, the result of smokeless powder.

"There must be a fire," said Arthur.

"I should think so," said Paul, grimly. "The Uhlans are ahead of us, Arthur."