After the fight Pariset steered over the town at a great altitude, and Kenneth employed his field-glasses in the hope of picking up some information.
"I say," he called, "it looks very much as if the Germans are really in the town. Firing has stopped."
"They can't have taken the forts already," cried Pariset. "We'll get back."
On coming to the ground miles to the west, they learnt that Kenneth was right: the Germans had entered the town, lined all the bridges with sentries, taken possession of the railway station, and begun to billet themselves. It was rumoured also that Fort Loncin had fallen, that General Leman was a prisoner, and that the Belgian field army was concentrated about Fort Lantin, north of the town.
The officers of the Flying Corps were deeply dejected. All the efforts of their gallant men seemed to have been thrown away. Their thoughts being centred on Liége alone, they did not as yet realise that the strenuous resistance to the passage of the German army had dislocated the imperial plans, and caused a delay in the march on Paris which was destined to save Europe.
Kenneth and his friend were taking their evening meal in a village inn, the owner of which had announced that next day he intended to pack up and start for Ostend. Only a few peasants were on the premises; all the more well-to-do of the villagers had already joined the stream of refugees.
Suddenly there was a shot outside. The innkeeper dived into his cellar; his guests jumped up, grasping their revolvers. The door opened, and a man in the coarse soiled clothes of a farm labourer entered. On his head was a wide-brimmed slouch hat, and the lower part of his face was concealed by a tangled brown moustache and beard.
"What was that shot?" asked Pariset, in Walloon, and gasped with amazement when the stranger, taking off his hat, said in perfect English:
"Here is a part of its track."
He pointed to two bullet-holes, one on each side of the crown of the hat.
"Granger!" exclaimed Kenneth.
"A very good disguise, isn't it?" said Granger. "But there is little time to spare. The bullet is in an amiable Teuton who popped round the corner at an unfortunate moment--for him. No doubt he was shadowing me: I must make another change in my outward favour, that is clear. His confederate missed me and winged the accomplice. I couldn't catch the fellow. Probably he has gone back to the town to get assistance, and I must be moving. I've a few minutes, however, and you can help me. I was on my way to headquarters. I have just heard that the Germans are bringing up some heavy siege guns to demolish the forts. They are coming by road: were last heard of at Crefeld--huge things, drawn by innumerable traction engines from the estimable millionaire's works at Essen. Will you carry the news to headquarters for me? You will save time--and probably my skin."
"Certainly," said Pariset at once. "This explains the cessation of the bombardment."
"No doubt. They did not expect that poor little Belgium would turn into a Jack-the-Giant-Killer, or they would have brought up these monsters of theirs before. They represent the last word in Culture--according to the gospel of Krupp. I will leave you, then."
"Ware spies!" said Kenneth, as they shook hands.
"We set a thief to catch a thief, don't we?" said Granger with a smile.
He put on his hat and was gone.
"We had better get away at once," said Pariset, biting the end off a Dutch cigar. "But I don't care about reporting by hearsay. What do you say to taking a look at them?"
"At what?"
"At these new apostles of culture."
"The big guns!--why not?"
"We shall have to cross into German territory--a risky game. If caught we shall be instantly shot."
"We've risked a good deal already without damage. Let us try it. I know the country; I've often cycled from Cologne to Crefeld."
"That's to the good. Very well, then; I'll get leave to go first thing in the morning. We'll use the Taube and wear German uniforms. And in case any one comes hunting for Granger, let us pay our bill and go."
————
At six o'clock next morning the inhabitants of an old farmhouse at Erkelenz, not far from the Dutch frontier, were seated at breakfast. There was an old man of some sixty years, his wife and daughter, boys and girls, and two women servants. The farmer himself and his male hands were all on service.
"I wonder where Daddy is now?" said one of the boys.
"And Fritz and Hans?" said a girl.
"Somewhere on the way to Paris, little ones," said the grandfather. "He will bring you back some fine playthings. Granny is wearing the brooch I brought from Paris forty years ago."
"Mother says Daddy may be killed," piped another boy.
"Nonsense!" said the old man. "Was I killed? Not even wounded. Why should your father be?"
"How long will he be away?" asked another.
"Not long. How long was I away in '70, Granny?"
"Six months," said the old woman. "Du lieber Himmel! but it seemed like six years. Wilhelm was in long clothes when you went, and when you came back he was running about. Ah! may God bring him back safe and sound!"
"Listen! What is that?" cried the children's mother.
A humming sound, like the buzzing of a monster bee, floated in through the open window. The children ran to the door.
"An aeroplane! An aeroplane!" they shouted. "See! it is coming down in the meadow."
The household flocked to the door and window.
"A Taube!" said the old man. "Run and see what the airmen want, Karl."
A boy of twelve ran across the farmyard into the meadow. The monoplane had alighted, and a tall man in the uniform of a German captain was hastening towards the house.
"Have you any petrol, boy?" asked the airman.
The country boy looked up with awe, and said nothing. The sight of a German officer afflicted him with shyness. He ran back to his grandfather.
"The Herr Captain needs petrol," he said.
"That is unlucky, Herr Captain," said the old man, saluting the officer. "We have no petrol; I doubt whether you will get any in Erkelenz; it has all been bought for the army."
"Well, give me something to eat and drink."
Kenneth tried, without great success, to adopt the German officer's peremptory manner.
"No, I won't come in," he added. "Bring it to me here; I've no time to spare."
The women hastened to bring him of their best.
"And the Herr Captain's companion--shall we take something to him?" one of them asked.
"He cannot eat or drink with his face bandaged like that," said Kenneth, glancing back at the aeroplane.
Pariset, who could not speak German, had swathed his jaw in a linen bandage.
"Ach, lieber Gott! he is wounded," said the old man.
"We have had an exciting trip," replied Kenneth laconically. "I suppose I shall have to go on to Crefeld. Is anything happening here? I notice that transport is being diverted from the main road to a by-way. Why is that?"
"An accident, Herr Captain," said the man. "A traction engine, drawing a very heavy load, slipped over the edge of the causeway three miles yonder. Something broke; it was late last night, and I heard they had to send to Crefeld for a steam crane to lift it. Maybe it is done by now."
"It was drawing an ammunition wagon, I suppose?"
"It did not look like that, Herr Captain. I walked over to see. But I could not guess what it was, for it was covered all over with tarpaulin."
"Lend me a horse; I'll ride over. Perhaps there's some petrol in the baggage train."
"I am sorry, Herr Captain; all the horses are taken."
"I must walk then. This boy can come and show me the way, and carry back the petrol."
"Surely, mein Herr."
"Keep a look-out, will you? If you see any one approaching, warn the Herr Lieutenant. There may be spies about."
He set off behind the boy. The causeway, he remembered, ran beside the little river Roer, that fell into the Meuse farther west at Roermond. He needed no guide, and indeed did not intend to go right up to the scene of the breakdown; but the boy was useful as a cloak to his real design.
Half an hour's walk across the fields brought him to a hayrick something less than a mile from the spot.
"I ought to be able to get a view from the top of that," he thought.
Bidding the boy wait below, he climbed a ladder set against the side of the rick, raised his field-glasses to his eyes, and adjusted the focus. Meanwhile two old farm labourers had slouched across the field and asked a question of the boy, which he answered in a word.
Kenneth had reason to congratulate himself on having gone no farther. Between him and the causeway a half-troop of cavalry had off saddled, and were smoking near the broken traction engine, which had apparently swerved over the edge, and completely blocked the road. Behind it were two huge lorries, carrying between them a large mass of indefinite shape covered with tarpaulin. At the further end of the causeway was another traction engine with a similar load. Besides the spick and span cavalry there were a number of men in dirty clothes, some of whom appeared to be engaged in tinkering at the engine.
"Those are the heavy guns, without a doubt," thought Kenneth. "I wish I could have a good look at them, but I'm afraid it's too risky. I might have guessed there would be a cavalry escort."
Obviously it was dangerous to attempt to carry off his imposture with the German officers. It would have been another matter if only the motor men had been concerned. He was disappointed.
As he continued to gaze, however, an idea flashed into his mind. It was pretty clear that the road would remain blocked until some contrivance had been rigged up for lifting the engine. Would Pariset venture a bold stroke? It would be a feather in his cap if he could destroy one, perhaps two, of these monster siege guns.
Shutting up his glasses, he climbed down the ladder, ignored the labourers and their humble salute, and began to hurry back in the direction of the farm. Surprised, the boy stood watching him for a few moments. Then he ran after him, and, plucking up courage, said--
"Will not the Herr Captain go on and get the petrol?"
"I will come in the aeroplane, boy; we have enough to bring us here."
The boy, rather crestfallen, had to trot to keep pace with Kenneth's long strides. He had hoped to receive a few pfennigs for carrying the petrol. Kenneth, busy with his thoughts, forgot the youngster until he was paying the civil farm people for his food. Then, catching sight of the boy's woebegone face, he handed him a silver coin that drove the clouds away. It was lucky, he reflected, that he still had some German money in his possession. A Belgian coin would have given him away.
After five minutes' talk with Pariset, out of earshot of the people, who had gathered about at a little distance, they once more took the air. They had managed to compress a good deal into that brief conversation. Pariset had accepted Kenneth's suggestion with delight. The problem, they agreed, was twofold: they had first to deal with the escort, then with the guns--if they were guns. When they soared away over the meadow they had formed a clear idea of the means by which they would attempt to solve it.
Making a wide sweep, east, north, and west, they approached the causeway south of the spot where the breakdown had occurred. The sight of a Taube monoplane flying obliquely over the road aroused curiosity but no suspicion in the minds of the Germans. But suddenly one of them gave a shout. Next moment a small bomb fell close beside one of the lorries, throwing up a shower of dust and stones. The engineers scuttled away; the troopers rushed to their horses, which, startled by the noise of the explosion, were threatening to stampede.
Pariset banked the aeroplane steeply and wheeled round. As it passed again over the causeway, Kenneth dropped another bomb, which fell close to the first. The men on foot were rushing wildly up the road; on the open fields there was no cover. Most of the troopers had mounted; some had seized their rifles and were firing. But the sight of the aeroplane wheeling again struck them with panic, and with a shout they dashed after their comrades, galloping across the fields.
The aeroplane followed up the fugitives. Owing to its speed, Pariset had to steer a zigzag course in order not to overtake them. Each time it wheeled he contrived to bring it close behind the rearmost horseman, like a sheep dog driving a flock, and Kenneth dropped a bomb to hurry the pace.
They kept up the chase for some minutes; then, there being no sign of rallying, they darted back to the causeway, where the traction engines and lorries now stood deserted. The level field on one side afforded a good alighting place. They came to the ground, sprang from their seats, and as they ran to the causeway noticed one or two men lying wounded.
"We simply haven't time to attend to them," panted Pariset. "The fellows will be riding back in a minute."
They reached the unwieldy vehicles. The impressions of the moment came back to them afterwards--the huge wheels with their grooved rims, the deep ruts they had carved in the road. There were plenty of tools lying about. Kenneth cut the lashings of one of the tarpaulin covers, stripped off the cover, and found, as he had expected, that beneath it lay a portion of a huge weapon, half gun, half mortar, with a bore seventeen inches in diameter.
"It's not the breech block; try the next lorry," urged Pariset.
"I'll deal with this; you go on to the next," said Kenneth.
Each had carried from the aeroplane a cylindrical parcel wrapped in cotton wool. From the end of this a short length of wire protruded. Climbing into the lorries they pushed these parcels into the breech end of the bore of the guns. Then each began to connect the wires with a small battery furnished with a clock-work timing mechanism.
While still engaged in this operation, they heard the clatter of hoofs, and looking up, saw a squadron of cavalry galloping down the road little more than half a mile away.
"How long?" shouted Kenneth.
"Sixty seconds," Pariset replied. "Say when you are ready."
Pariset, the more experienced of the two, was ready first.
"Quick!" he cried, running towards the aeroplane.
"Right!" shouted Kenneth, scrambling down and sprinting after him.
By the time he had vaulted into his seat the engine had been started. Pariset jumped in, threw the engine into gear, and the machine started forward. At the same moment bullets began to fly around. Pariset paid no heed to them. He had less than half a minute to get beyond the range of explosion.
The machine had barely risen from the ground when there was a deafening report, that seemed to be immediately beneath him. A few moments later there was a second crashing roar. The aeroplane was tossed about like a feather in a gale. It dipped, and for an instant Pariset feared that it would dash to the earth. During the few seconds this miniature tornado continued the airmen's hearts were in their mouths. Involuntarily they bent low to avoid the bullets which the horsemen, now come to a halt, were volleying at them. Keeping a firm grip of the controls, Pariset flew straight onward, rising as rapidly as possible.
Not until he had gained an altitude which seemed to promise immunity from rifle fire did either of them think of turning to see the effect of the explosions. Then Pariset wheeled round, and flew back, Kenneth examining the causeway far below through his field-glasses.
The lorries, as complete vehicles, had disappeared. The remains of one gun lay scattered on the field; those of the other were indistinguishably mixed up with earth, stones, and the debris of the lorries on the causeway.
The leading files of the troopers appeared to have come within a hundred yards of the scene at the moment of the first explosion. A few lay on the ground; some were galloping on their affrighted steeds over the field; only the rear ranks had been able to rein up, and fire their ineffectual shots at the aeroplane hopelessly beyond range.