"You know the railway bridge over the Ourthe, at Sy, just south of Hamoir?" the captain began, lighting a cigarette.
"Yes," said Pariset.
"A section of our sappers were told off to blow it up this morning. Their work was only half done when they were surprised and cut up by a patrol of Uhlans. The Germans very quickly repaired the damage, and are now using the line to bring up troops and material against the Boncelles and Embourg forts."
"Well?" said Pariset, as the officer paused.
"It occurred to the Chief that you who had saved one bridge might perhaps destroy another. It is a mere suggestion, not a command. The work would be very risky; it is not your job, and all that part of the country is in German hands. But when the matter was mentioned I said I thought you would at least make a reconnaissance and learn what prospect there is of a successful attempt."
"Of course," said Pariset at once. "You don't know exactly how much damage was done?"
"No. Perhaps a bomb or two would complete it."
"That is rather doubtful," said Pariset musingly. "The chances of hitting the bridge at the right spot from an aeroplane flying very high at speed are slight, and we should have to fly high to escape the German shot."
"Unless we flew in the Taube," suggested Kenneth. "In that we might get low enough to smash the bridge before they suspected us."
"The objection to that is that you would be in almost as great danger from our own guns as from the German," said the captain. "The forts would certainly fire on you. But stay: if you decide on that, I will 'phone the southern forts to pass a Taube showing the Russian flag. That would protect you until you are clear of our lines."
"Very well," said Pariset. "We will start early in the morning. Do you mind getting us a Russian flag while I talk over things with my friend?"
"Not at all. I will bring it to you here."
He left them.
"It is frightfully risky," said Pariset, "but we must make the attempt. We must wear German uniforms. Your friend Granger's will come in handy."
"You have practised bomb-dropping, of course," said Kenneth.
"Yes, but, as I said, it's a most uncertain thing. Besides the difficulty of hitting the vulnerable spot, the bombs sometimes do little damage. We might drop a dozen, and yet fail to destroy the bridge. It's essentially a job to be done on terra firma."
"It's not likely we should be able to land. Even if there is at the moment no considerable force in the neighbourhood the bridge is sure to be guarded."
"That's certain. Still, it's just as well to be provided for the off chance, so I'll take, along with the ordinary bombs, a small case of gelignite and a little electric battery--a pick-axe, too: that may be useful."
"How far is it?"
"About twenty miles. The bridge is at a narrow gorge by the village of Simon's Inn. There's a tunnel beyond, and the banks of the river are steep. The railway crosses the river several times, but I'm pretty sure of the particular bridge they have tried to destroy."
They waited nearly an hour before the captain returned.
"I have had the greatest difficulty in getting the flag," he said, placing a parcel in Pariset's hands. "I tried several shops in vain, then it occurred to me to apply at the Russian consulate, and they happened to have a spare one. I wish you luck. Report to me at head-quarters."
At seven o'clock next morning, equipped with the needful apparatus, they ascended from their headquarters in the Taube monoplane, took an easterly course, then swung southward and passed between the Flemelle and Boncelles forts. It was a beautiful summer morning. The country was bathed in sunlight, and no warlike sounds disturbed the still air. But south of the town clouds of dust hung over every road, and they caught sight of masses of men moving northward, the sun glinting on weapons and the spikes of helmets. Pariset, in the observer's seat, felt sick at heart. How was it possible for the little Belgian army to resist these immense hordes?
The well-known shape of the aeroplane (they no longer showed the Russian flag) purchased immunity. They flew over the railway, then over the Meuse north of Huy, then sweeping to the east soon came in sight of the Ourthe winding between meadows and precipitous cliffs, and the railway to Neufchâteau. The valley broadened out. Instructed by Pariset, Kenneth steered the monoplane over the village of Hamoir on the left bank. Almost immediately afterwards they came above the cluster of houses at Sy, and the bridge crossing the gorge, beyond which the railway entered the tunnel.
On the north side of the bridge stood a long goods train, apparently waiting the signal to proceed. On the south side, part in, part out of the tunnel, was a train of passenger coaches, gaily bedecked with leafy branches of trees. A few soldiers had got out of the train, and were sitting smoking in the meadow. At each end of the bridge four guards were posted.
The aeroplane passed over the cliff through which the tunnel ran, then bore to the left in the direction of Werbomont and was soon out of sight from the bridge. Choosing a lonely field sheltered by a wood, Kenneth brought the machine to the ground.
"We can't destroy the bridge with bombs," said Pariset, "but it's just possible to do it with the gelignite if you are game."
"What's your idea?" asked Kenneth.
"There's clearly a block on the line somewhere to the north. It may be a long time before it is cleared, giving us just the opportunity we want. There's a path through the fields on the left bank, leading to the bridge. It seems fairly covered. My idea is that you should go down to the bridge with the gelignite."
"But it is guarded," Kenneth interrupted.
"Don't be impatient. I was going on to say that I will fly over the bridge and stampede the guards. That will give you a chance to creep up. Your uniform will protect you long enough for the purpose, I hope. The Germans won't suspect you until the explosion occurs. Then it will be a ticklish moment. The fellows who have got out of the train may fire at you; but they are a good distance away, and you ought to have time to rush back under cover before they can do any damage. I'll be ready to pick you up. Or, if you like, I'll take the gelignite and you drop the bombs."
"No. I've had no practice at that. I'll take my chance. But we're about two miles from the bridge, I fancy. It will take me at least half an hour to get there, not knowing the way. Anything may happen in that time."
"I'll come with you until we find a guide. There will be plenty of time for me to come back to the aeroplane and still reach the bridge before you. I will give you half an hour from now before I fly off."
They set off together, walking rapidly over the fields. Turning into a lane, they came suddenly face to face with a farm boy of about sixteen years. His jaw dropped, and a look of terror showed in his eyes when he saw the German uniforms. Pariset spoke to him rapidly in Walloon, and gave him money. Thus reassured, he agreed to conduct Kenneth across the hill to the path which Pariset had mentioned.
"Good luck!" said Pariset, as they parted. "Don't risk too much. If the stratagem fails, make your way back to the same spot."
Kenneth carried the gelignite and the battery. He gave the pick-axe to the boy. Pariset had learnt from him that no Germans had been seen on the lanes and roads, but they walked across the fields under cover of the hedgerows in case patrols or foraging parties should appear.
Their course brought them within half an hour to a field some little distance above the bridge. Kenneth dismissed the boy, and keeping under cover to avoid observation from the trains, which were stationary in the places where he had seen them forty minutes before, he crept as near to the bridge as he dared, and waited. He heard the water lapping the piers, the voices of the guards at the nearer end, the distant hiss of the locomotive of the troop train blowing off steam--and then a faint deep burr, growing louder moment by moment.
The guards raised their voices.
"Another Taube," said one.
"He's flying very high," said another. "Thinks we are Belgians, perhaps."
"But he's coming down," said the third. "Look at that swoop! It fairly makes me sick to see him."
Kenneth, posted under cover, was not yet able to see the aeroplane, but from the silence that fell upon the guards he guessed that Pariset was executing one of those steep dives which make the onlooker hold his breath.
"I hope he won't come too low," he thought.
And then, in pursuance of the plan arranged, he began to steal along the bank of the river towards the bridge, confident that the attention of the guards was riveted on the aeroplane. He saw it now, sweeping round in a huge circle, still at a great height.
When the expected signal came, it was startling in its suddenness. Kenneth had not seen an object fall from the aeroplane, but there was a sharp explosion just beyond the bridge, a cloud of dust, and cries of amazement and fear from the guards. He moved nearer to the bridge. From the direction of the troop train he heard the crackle of rifles. The eyes of the guards were still turned upwards upon the monoplane, which was circling round at a height of three or four thousand feet above the bridge, within range, indeed, but a difficult target.
Taking advantage of the excitement of the men, Kenneth had crept through the scrub on the river bank and come beneath the end of the bridge. He had already perceived that the stone arch at each end had been destroyed, but the centre arch was intact, and the gaps had been covered with stout balks of timber on which the railway track was laid. His aim must be to destroy the central arch. With that broken down, to repair the bridge a second time would be a much more difficult matter.
Covered now by the bridge, he waded out to the central arch, carrying his apparatus. He had supposed that it would be necessary to hack out with the pick-axe a hole in the masonry large enough to hold the case of gelignite, and the risk of being heard strung his nerves to a high tension. It was with great relief that he discovered a hole already made. Apparently a charge had been laid there by the Belgian engineers, but it had failed to explode, and probably had been removed by the Germans.
He lost no time in wedging the case of gelignite into the cavity, attached the detonator, and waded back to the bank. There was now almost continuous rifle fire from the troops, who had alighted from the train and lined up on the track. The incessant noise smothered the whirr of the propeller, but it was clear that Pariset was still absorbing the attention of the Germans. Kenneth crept along up stream, paying out the wire as he went, until he reached the shelter of a dense thicket. Then he made the connection with the battery. Instantaneously there was a deafening roar, the arch collapsed, and the whole bridge fell with a crash into the river.
Somewhat breathless, Kenneth remained hidden for a minute. The rifle shots had ceased; there was a confused shouting from the troops; and through it he heard again the hum of the aeroplane. A bomb burst on the ground near the end of the bridge. The fusillade recommenced. Seizing the opportunity, Kenneth quitted his hiding-place, and made the best of his way back across the field, observing that Pariset was still circling round in order to distract the enemy, but rising ever higher.
When Kenneth reached the rendezvous Pariset was awaiting him.
"Hullo! You're wounded!" cried Kenneth, noticing that Pariset was grasping his right wrist.
"Bruised by a splinter, that's all," said Pariset. "It's painful, but not dangerous. The planes are riddled; I'm very lucky to have fared, no worse. You managed that splendidly, Ken. I was surprised you did it so quickly."
"There was already a cavity in the arch, which saved labour."
"We have both earned our dinner. You will pilot the machine back?"
"Of course. Are you sure you are not seriously hurt?"
"Quite. I only hope I get nothing worse before the war is over."