CHAPTER XXVI.

TRAPPED.

It was two days later. The battle was raging fiercely. On all sides men were dropping singly, in pairs, in tens and in hundreds. Since early morning, when an advance guard of Germans had approached the British line, the struggle had continued without a minute's breathing space.

Gradually giving way before the English attacks, the German troops fell back mile after mile, the English, in the section of the field where the fighting had been going on, pursuing them closely. Unmindful of their support on either side, the British still pressed forward, until now they were far beyond either flank.

Suddenly from either side of the English troops came a thundering volley. Taken by surprise, the British halted suddenly, while men tumbled to the earth on every hand.

Before the officer in command could give the order to fall back, a force of Germans was hurled into their rear, completely cutting them off from any possible hope of aid from that direction. A thousand men were in this little force now completely surrounded.

But the officer in command of the British was not of the caliber to surrender. He was a typical son of Albion, a fighting man, none other than Captain Harry Anderson, whose part in the expedition across the Marne had raised him to that rank.

Advancing with his command, he soon found himself the ranking officer still on his feet. Hal and Chester, who the night before had shared his quarters, at the call to arms had plunged into the thick of the conflict alongside the gallant captain. In spite of the terrific carnage, in spite of the shot and shell that fell about them, they had so far escaped injury.

Perceiving that retreat was cut off, Captain Anderson conceived a possible escape. With a loud cry of "Forward!" to his men, he dashed right into the face of a terrible rifle and artillery fire.

Men dropped as though mowed down by the wind, but the little column halted not. They had spread out, fan-wise, at the command of Captain Anderson, to avoid as much as possible the sweeping fire of the Germans, and they now pressed forward at a run.

Completely surprised at this sudden charge by the little body of men, that the German officers evidently believed entirely in their power, and still more surprised by their desperate offense in the face of overwhelming odds, the Germans, for a moment, gave way.

That moment was enough for the success of Captain Anderson's strategy. At the point of the bayonet the British burst through the German line, dealing out death on every hand as they did so. A moment and the Germans rallied, but it was too late.

The British were now through the barrier of steel, and had taken refuge behind a little ridge. And now the reason for the captain's sudden charge became apparent.

Directly ahead was a large house, and for this refuge the British dashed madly. The first man to reach the door tried the knob. The door was locked. From behind came the plod of the heavy German feet and the sharp crack of rifles.

There was not a moment to lose. With a swift blow of his rifle butt, the British soldier smashed in the door, and into this opening the troops poured. A second squad had dashed around to the rear of the house and performed a similar operation. In less time than it takes to tell it injured and uninjured alike were in the house. The ground outside, however, was strewn with their companions.

Quickly every window in the house was manned, the doors barred. And the British stood silently awaiting the approach of the enemy, which they knew would come in a very few minutes.

"If it were not for the artillery we could hold this place indefinitely," said Captain Anderson.

"Yes," agreed Chester; "or, if we can manage to hold out till night, we may be able to get away."

"It is possible, too," said Hal, "that our absence will be noticed and aid sent to us."

"I'm not banking much on that," replied Captain Anderson, "for, if we are missed, our loss probably will be put down to the fortunes of war. It is hardly possible General French would know we are cooped up in this house."

"That's so," said Chester. "Well, we will have to hold on as long as we can. That's the best we can do."

"Exactly," agreed Hal quietly.

The three approached the window in front of the house on the second floor. But, even as they neared it, the rifle of the soldier guarding it spoke.

"Evidently the siege has begun," said Hal grimly. "Poor fellow!" he added, as one of the men at the window toppled to the floor, a bullet in his head.

His place was quickly taken by another, and the battle went on. The firing became fiercer with each passing moment. The British barred the windows with chairs, tables, and whatever other articles of furniture they could find, leaving an opening just large enough to poke their rifles through.

But even this was not enough to keep out all the German bullets. Still men fell, though not as fast as before. Captain Anderson assigned Hal to direct the fire of the British in the front of the first floor and Chester in the rear. The captain took command of the second floor himself.

The three were everywhere encouraging the men, seemingly being all over their respective stations at once. Occasionally, as a man fell, Hal or Chester would step into the breach and hold the place until relieved by another soldier.

Noon came and went, and still the fighting continued. Apparently, thus far, the Germans had not conceived the idea of battering the house to pieces with their big field guns. Evidently they thought they could take it without this trouble.

And now darkness drew on. The German fire had played havoc with the defenders, but, if they had suffered severely, the enemy's loss, exposed as they were to the grilling fire from the house, had been enormous.

Night fell, and with it came a lull in the firing. Hal took advantage of this respite to hurry upstairs for a word with Captain Anderson. As they conversed in low tones, they were startled by an outcry from the floor below.

Hurriedly descending the stairs, they beheld the cause of the commotion. Struggling in Chester's arms was a man in civilian garb.

"I caught him just as he was about to open the front door," Chester explained.

The man's struggles were soon quieted, and he stood before Captain Anderson, pale and trembling.

"What are you doing here?" demanded the latter.

"I was hiding in the cellar," said the man in a shaking voice. "When you English burst in I didn't know what to do. I remained in my hiding-place until there was a lull in the fighting. I was afraid I would be killed if I was found, so I tried to get out the first time I thought I had a chance."

Captain Anderson looked at him queerly.

"Surely you are not a German?" he asked.

"No, sir," was the reply, "I am French."

"Then what need had you to be afraid of us?"

"Well, you see, sir," was the nervous reply, "I am a peace-loving man. I don't want to fight, and I won't fight if I can help it."

"A nice specimen of a Frenchman, to be sure," said the captain, with a sneer. "If you are such a peace-loving man, how does it happen we find you here? Why haven't you fled with the rest of the old women and children?"

"Well, you see, sir," quavered the man, "I have been hiding here. I was afraid that if I went to Paris I would be forced to fight."

"And you have been hiding here ever since war broke out?"

"Yes, sir. I have a nice hiding-place downstairs," and he rubbed his hands in satisfaction.

"And you were not discovered by the Germans?"

"No, sir; and a party of officers were here only yesterday."

"Then, no doubt, you heard their plans. Perhaps you can give us important information?"

"I could, yes, sir," was the reply. "But, if I do, will there be any pay for me?"

The captain was taken by surprise.

"And you call yourself a Frenchman," he said in contempt. He took a threatening step forward. "No," he said angrily, "there will be no pay, but I can promise you that if you don't tell what you know you will be shot right here and now."

"Oh, sir, you wouldn't do that," said the man in a wheedling voice.

"Wouldn't I?" exclaimed the captain. "You shall see."

He turned to his men, and, in response to a signal, two of them approached the Frenchman. But the stern tone had convinced the man that the officer meant what he said.

"I'll tell, sir," he cried, falling on his knees.

Captain Anderson waved his men away.

"Very well," he said coldly, "and see that you make no mistake. If your information is of no value you shall be shot anyhow."

"But it is, sir," protested the Frenchman.

"All right. Then let's have it."

"The Germans are planning an aëroplane raid on the English," said the man, in a low voice. "There is a park of aëroplanes hardly two miles from here, on the road leading to Viviers. They are ready for instant flight."

"What!" exclaimed Captain Anderson. "Are you sure?"

"Perfectly," was the reply. "I heard the German officers talking of it only yesterday. They said it would deal a death-blow to the English."

"And so it would," said the captain, "unless it can be stopped."

Hal broke suddenly into the conversation.

"Can you point the approximate whereabouts of this park of machines out to us?" he asked.

"Easily, sir."

"What's your idea?" asked Captain Anderson.

"Simply this," said Hal. "I believe that by a dash we can get through the Germans. They will not expect it, and, if they did, would not expect us to go forward. Consequently, the guard in front is not likely to be vigilant. We have enough men here to make a successful raid on these machines and destroy them."

"A first-class idea," said the captain. "We'll do it."