Read A Hero of Liége: A Story of the Great War Page 6


  CHAPTER VI--THE OLD MILL

  Sitting in the farm-kitchen, and eating the farmer's homely fare,Pariset talked a little about the war, and led the way discreetly to thequestions he was eager to ask.

  "The mill, monsieur? 'Tis twenty years since it was used. I used tosend my corn to it, but nowadays I send it to Charleroi, where asteam-mill grinds it more cheaply. The old miller is a good friend ofmine, but he retired twenty years ago; he's a warm man, to be sure.That's his house yonder:" he pointed to a cottage half a mile awayacross the fields. "We often have a gossip over a mug of beer."

  "It's just as well he made his money before steam-mills became socommon," said Pariset. "I suppose it wasn't worth any one's while tokeep the water-mill going?"

  "No; there's no money in milling of the old sort now. But it goes to myheart to see the old mill idle. Such a loss, too. But the miller canstand it; he's a warm man, as I told you. And after all, he has made alittle out of it lately. But it's a come-down, that's what I say."

  "It is idle, you said."

  "Yes, to be sure, and always will be. But the miller has let it for twoyears past. He makes a little out of it, and so do I, not so much as Ishould like, for the gentleman is only there now and then. He's a Swissgentleman that keeps a hotel in Namur. A great fisherman, he is; he'llfish for hours in the millpond, and I wonder he has the patience for it,for there's not much to be caught there since the grinding stopped.Still, I don't complain; he buys my eggs and butter when he comes there,two or three times a year perhaps. He's there now, with a few friendsof his."

  "I should like to have a chat with your friend the miller," saidPariset.

  "He'd like it too, monsieur. He doesn't have much company, and he'dlike to hear about things from an officer; you can't believe what youread in the papers. I'll take you across the fields."

  In a few minutes they were seated in a cosy little parlour, opposite asturdy countryman, hale and hearty in spite of his seventy odd years. Heasked shrewd questions about the war, foresaw great trouble for hiscountry, but, like the farmer, was cheered by the news that "les bravesAnglais" were coming once more to her rescue. When Pariset led up tothe subject of his mill he became animated.

  "Ah! the old mill is a rare old place," he said with a chuckle. "Thethings I could tell you! There was more than milling in the old days.Times are changed. We're all for law now. But in my grandfather'stime--why, monsieur, he's dead and gone this forty years, so it will dohim no harm if I tell you he was a smuggler. Many and many a barrel ofgood brandy used to get across the border without paying duty. Why,underneath the old mill there are cellars and passages where he used tostore contraband worth thousands of francs. I used to steal down therewhen I was a boy, and ma foi! it made my skin creep, though there wasnothing to be afraid of. But 'tis fifty years since my old grandfatherclosed them down, and they've never been opened up since."

  "Your present tenant is a hotel-keeper, I hear. He would be interestedto know about the smuggling."

  "That he was, to be sure. He laughed when I told him about it. 'Wecan't get rich that way nowadays,' said he. He seems to have plenty ofmoney, though; pays me a good rent. 'Tis strange what whims gentlemenhave. A month's fishing in the pond wouldn't feed him for a week. Hecalls it sport; well, in my young days I liked something more lively.But the fishing is just an excuse; he comes there now and then for achange and quiet, though he's not a solitary, like some fishermen. Hehas a party of friends sometimes; all Swiss like himself."

  "French Swiss?" asked Pariset.

  "No, German Swiss. For my part, I've no great liking for German Swiss.They're only one remove from Germans. But his money is good, and it'ssomething to make a little money out of the old mill after all theseyears."

  The old man spoke quite frankly, and evidently had no suspicions abouthis tenant. Pariset thought it safe to disillusion him.

  "Would you be surprised to learn that your fisherman is actually aGerman?" he said.

  "But that is impossible," said the miller. "He would have gone back toGermany, because of the war."

  "Unless he is a spy! We have reason to believe that he is, and that heis using your mill for the benefit of the enemy. That is what hasbrought us here."

  "Sacre nom de nom!" the old man ejaculated, and the farmer thumped thetable and swore. "Is that the truth, monsieur?"

  "We suspect him of intending to blow up the railway bridge at a givensignal."

  "Ah! the villain! And he will use the underground passages. That iswhy he pays me a high rent, parbleu! But he has come to the end of histether. You are here to arrest him?"

  "No. We have no men with us. We came to learn whether our suspicionswere justified. We are not sure of our man yet."

  "Bah!" shouted the old man, red with fury. "It is certain. He hasfooled me. I will raise the countryside. We will fall on theseGermans. Before night they shall lie in the dungeons of Charleroi."

  "Do you think that is the way to go to work?" Pariset asked tactfully."They would hardly allow themselves to be caught napping; at the firstalarm they would no doubt blow up the bridge, and I take it that toprevent that is even more important than to seize the menthemselves--though our aim should be to do both."

  "It is true, monsieur. I am an old man. This is the day of young men.Oh that I were forty years younger and able to serve my country! Butyou will not let them go? You will bring some of our brave soldiershere and capture the villains?"

  "There may not be time for that. We must meet craft with craft. If wecould only reconnoitre the mill we might be able to hit upon a plan. Myuniform would give me away, if I approached the place as I am; you couldno doubt lend me some clothes to disguise myself?"

  "Surely, monsieur; but----"

  He broke off, eyeing Pariset's face, with its small military moustache,doubtfully.

  At this moment they heard the rumble of a heavy vehicle on the road.

  "It is the beer, compere," said the farmer, glancing out of the window.

  "Ah! the beer!" repeated the miller. "I might have known they wereGermans! Every week they have a barrel delivered from Charleroi, and itis not the local brew, but the Lion brew from Munich."

  He had moved to the window, followed by his visitors. A heavy drayladen with beer was lumbering down the road. As it came opposite to thehouse the drayman hailed the miller, pulling up his horses.

  "The Germans are shelling Liege," he said. "Maybe 'tis the last time Ishall come this way. Your good tenants had better clear out."

  "Good tenants!" cried the old man explosively.

  "Quiet!" said Pariset, touching him on the sleeve. "Don't tell him theyare Germans."

  "Ah! You are right, monsieur. But my blood boils. You are going tothe mill?" he asked the drayman.

  "Yes. 'Tis only a small barrel to-day--not the big one they usuallyhave. There aren't so many of them, seemingly. I was just loading upthe usual nine gallons when the order came from the office to take afour-and-a-half instead."

  Pariset glanced quickly at Kenneth.

  "They're going to clear out soon," he said in a low tone. "It looks asthough we're only just in time."

  They drew aside from the others while the miller gossiped with thedrayman.

  "I say, you talked of disguising yourself," said Kenneth. "Whyshouldn't you take the drayman's place and deliver the beer? You couldthen take stock of the place and the people."

  "A capital notion! I must take the drayman into my confidence. Wait aminute," he called out of the window, as the man was about to drive on.In a few words he explained the plan to the miller.

  "Parbleu, monsieur, but look at his size!" said the old man.

  "Yes, that's a difficulty, I admit," said Pariset ruefully. "He wouldmake three of me. The Germans aren't fools, and if they saw me with hissmock flapping about me they would smell a rat."

  "And your face and hands, monsieur--no, decidedly you could not pass fora drayman."

  Pariset
bit his nails in perplexity. Kenneth stared musingly at thedray.

  "I've an idea!" he said. "Pretend that the drayman has been called up.The brewer is short-handed, and has to send clerks out of the office todeliver the beer: two clerks equal one drayman. Besides, if I go withyou, I may catch sight of that fellow I saw with Hellwig, and make surehe's our man."

  "The very thing! Your clothes are all right; I must borrow a suit fromthe miller. But wait: won't Hellwig's man recognise you?"

  "I'll guard against that--smear my face with rust off the cask-hoops,and borrow a slouch hat which I'll keep well down over my eyes. It'sworth trying."

  Delighted with the plan, the miller furnished them with the necessarygarments. In a few minutes Pariset, got up passably as a clerk, wentout to the drayman, who was becoming impatient. The man swore when helearnt that his customers were suspected to be spies, and readily agreedto remain in the miller's house and await the issue of the stratagem.Meanwhile Kenneth had rubbed his cheeks and hands with rust, and in thelow flopping hat lent him by the miller would hardly have beenrecognised by his friends, much less, he hoped, by a man who had seenhim for only a few minutes.

  "I had better drive," said Kenneth; "then I can keep in the backgroundwhile you are delivering the cask, if you can tackle it alone."

  "That will be easy enough. I see there's a ladder or inclined plane orwhatever they call it on the dray. I've only to roll the cask down andtrundle it to the door. I don't suppose they'll let me carry itinside."

  Kenneth took the reins, and drove off, Pariset, who also had smearedface and hands, dangling his legs over the tail of the dray. Theyjogged down the road, passed under the railway bridge, and came in duecourse to the mill.

  The premises were surrounded by an old and dilapidated wall, but theynoticed that along its top ran a row of formidable spikes, apparently ofrecent date. The front door of the mill-house faced the road. It wasstoutly built of oak studded with nails, and was flanked on both sidesby barred windows. The smuggling miller who built the place hadevidently made himself secure against surprise.

  When the dray drew up before the door, Pariset sprang down and jerkedthe iron bell-pull. From the driver's seat Kenneth saw a face appearfor an instant at one of the windows. After a short interval the boltswere withdrawn, the door opened, and a man stood on the threshold.Kenneth tingled; he had recognised him instantly as the man who had beenin conversation with Hellwig. He turned his head so as not to show hisfull face, pulled his hat lower over his eyes, and hoped that therecognition had not been mutual. And he listened anxiously, wonderinghow Pariset would acquit himself in his novel part, and wishing for themoment that Granger was in his place.

  Pariset, however, was cool and collected. He took the bull by thehorns.

  "I am sorry I am late, monsieur," he said, "but the fact is that all ourcarters are called up for transport purposes. Being anxious not todisappoint a valued customer, my master has sent us out of the office.We shan't be able to come again, for we're called up ourselves--allthrough those pigs of Germans, who are said to be across the frontier.We shan't be able to deliver any more beer, I'm afraid. It's a wonderwe've any horses left."

  The German merely grunted in answer to this.

  "We're in for a very bad time," Pariset went on, as he hoisted the endof the cask on to the doorstep. "Hadn't you better go back toSwitzerland, monsieur? Pardon the suggestion, but we don't know whatmay happen. If these German pigs come south----"

  "Just roll it into the lobby," interrupted the German. "Here's themoney. By the way, have you seen an aeroplane in the neighbourhood?"

  "Yes, we saw one an hour or so ago. It was flying north-east. Ishouldn't be surprised if it was German. The pigs are capable ofanything. But they'll get a reception that will surprise them. Ourlittle army--but there! You know what your own army would do, and yourturn may come in Switzerland sooner than you think. Thank you: I amsorry we shan't be able to serve you again, by the look of things."

  He laid the cask in the lobby, pocketed the money, and returned to thedray.

  Meanwhile Kenneth had seized the opportunity to take a careful lookaround. It was clear that it would not be easy to take the place by arush without giving the inmates sufficient time to fire the mine beneaththe bridge. The fact that the German had come to the door himself,instead of the deaf old countryman whom he was said to employ as aman-of-all-work, showed that he was on the alert. Nothing would beeasier than to overpower the man himself; but if any noise were made inso doing his companions would instantly come to his assistance, and atthe first sign that the plot had been discovered the bridge would beblown up. It seemed that the ruse would prove fruitless after all.

  In turning the horses for the journey back, Kenneth contrived to bringthe dray close against the wall, so that from his high seat he was ableto look over. Through the open window of a room giving on the yard hesaw a party of four men playing cards at a table. Close to the righthand of each stood a tall beer glass.

  "That explains why they are such good customers of the brewery," hethought.

  Pariset, sitting at the back of the dray with his face to the door,began to hum a tune, and Kenneth caught the words "En avant!" Hewhipped up the horses, big Flemish beasts that were evidentlyunaccustomed to go above a walking pace, and the heavy vehicle lumberedaway.

  "Why did you want me to hurry?" asked Kenneth, when they were somedistance along the road.

  "Because that fellow was standing at the door watching us," Parisetreplied. "I wonder if he is suspicious?"

  "I shouldn't think so. You played your part quite naturally. But weare right, Remi: that's the fellow I saw with Hellwig."

  "Ah!" was all that Pariset said then.