CHAPTER XVII
THE ESCAPE
Their one chance of escape, as they both realized fully, was to get backto their automobile before the Germans recovered themselves sufficientlyto begin searching for those who had brought such swift and terribledisaster upon their enterprise. And so they made no effort to movequietly or secretly now. To do so would have meant delay and delay waswhat they could not afford. The distance seemed far greater than whenthey had first traversed it. It seemed that they would never pass thehouse which the Germans had used as a base. But finally they reached it.And as they did so a door burst open, and they saw a light within.
A man, with the cap of a German officer, though otherwise he worecivilian clothes, came rushing out, tugging at his pistol. He had heardthem running. By some bad chance, then, there had been a man--aGerman--left in the inn!
"Stop!" he cried, furiously.
But they kept on running. He could not see them, dazzled as he was bycoming from the lighted house into the deep darkness of the road. But hewas in front of them, and they slowed up, instinctively, though theystill ran. And then they came into the light of the door. He startedback.
"Kinder!" he cried. "Children!"
It was the exclamation of the Uhlan who had stopped them in theafternoon. But now it was uttered in a vastly different tone. The Germanwas beside himself with rage. Perhaps he had had some heavy share ofresponsibility for the safety of the Zeppelins. But whether that were soor not, he was plainly maddened by the sight of the boys. He couldscarcely have understood how completely they were responsible, but theway they were running and the direction whence they came proved only tooclearly that they had had some hand in it.
"Stop, Henri!" cried Frank, suddenly. "We can't get away. We surrender!"
They stopped. Frank was obeying the order Major Cooper had given him.Perhaps, had he been alone, he would have risked a further attempt toescape. But there was no doubt that the German meant to shoot, and hecould not expose Henri to the risk.
They stopped full in the path of light that came from the open door ofthe inn. Behind them, in the road, voices were raised. It was plain thattheir wires had been followed, and that others were in pursuit. And,after all, Frank felt they could afford to grin at being made prisonersnow. They had accomplished a great feat. Even if they were caught, thatwas to their credit.
And then suddenly he gave a cry of horror. Henri was a little ahead ofhim for he had not been able to stop as abruptly as Frank. And theGerman officer, too furious, perhaps, to think of what he was doing,raised his pistol and fired point-blank at the French boy! He fired--butthere came from his pistol not a sharp report, but only the dull clickas the hammer fell. Twice more he pulled the trigger. But something waswrong. He had made a fatal error--his revolver was unloaded.
But it was only by the luckiest of accidents that Henri was still alive.Frank had seen the murderous attempt, and now rage mastered him for themoment.
"You coward!" he shrieked. He flung himself at the German officer, whowas trying frantically to get at his cartridges. So sudden was theattack that he was taken utterly by surprise. Before he could defendhimself, Frank was wrenching his arm. A moment more, and the Germanofficer squealed like a frightened pig, for Frank had succeeded ingetting a hammer lock on him. He pulled at the revolver with his otherhand, and at last the German, to escape a broken arm, had to loosen hisgrip. Even a weakling can cripple the strongest man if he once gets thathold. And Frank, in his rage at the cowardly thing he had seen, wasalmost a match for the full grown man in any case.
As soon as he got the revolver he let go of the German's arm. But beforethe officer could move, Frank had clubbed the pistol and struck himsharply on the head. He went down like a log.
"Run, Henri, run!" he cried. "They're coming up behind us! Run for thecar!"
Behind them, indeed, the footsteps of running men were plainly to beheard. A shot rang out, but both boys had turned instinctively to theside of the road and were running low in the ditch beside the highway.They could not be seen, and the firing ceased. It seemed that most ofthe men were unarmed, or carried revolvers at the most. Had there beenrifles behind them, they would have had no chance. But as it was, theyreached their car and leaped in. Henri threw the switch of the electricstarter, the motor leaped into throbbing life, and they were off.
Behind them more shots were fired, but the aim was wild. And they spedaway, at fifty miles an hour, pursued only by a few vain revolverbullets, and by a chorus of shouts and yells of rage and execration.
"The coward!" stormed Frank. He had never been so angry in his life. "Hemight have killed you, Harry! And just because he was in a rage overwhat had happened to the airships! He didn't even know that you'd hadanything to do with it--not positively! And we'd already surrendered."
Henri laughed--and he meant the laugh. It was not affectation. He hadfaced his danger in the true spirit of the Frenchman, who is as brave inaction as any man in the world.
"Eh, well!" he said. "He did not shoot me, so what does it matter? Thatwas a fine crack on the head you gave him! He will remember us, I think,next time he sees us."
Frank shuddered a little.
"I hope not!" he said. "Or, that if he does, he will be a prisonerhimself, and won't be able to try to get even."
Frank remembered the look of sheer devilish rage in the eyes of theGerman. It was not pleasant to think that they might meet again.
"If it is to be, it will be," said Henri. "I bear him no grudge! He hadcause to be angry--ma foi, yes! The Kaiser will not say pretty thingswhen he hears of what we did to-night, Francois!"
"No!" Frank laughed. "I wonder where those airships were meant to go?Paris? They could have done terrible damage. Perhaps they were to attackthe army--to lie behind its course, knowing that our aeroplanes would bescouting on the front. They might have made it harder than ever toretreat in good order. But I think they would have gone to Paris. Ithink that they would have been there before daylight."
"And now--pouf!" said Henri. "What is left of them? Not so much as wouldfill a barrel!"
Once all danger of pursuit was past, Henri had slowed down the speed ofthe car. Both scouts were thoroughly tired out by this time. They hadhad a strenuous day, and a night that merited the description ofstrenuous even more fully than the day. And now that danger seemed tolie behind them, and a clear road to safety in front, their wearinesswas realized fully for the first time.
They could hardly have escaped the Germans, had any lain betweenAbbeville and Amiens. But none were there, as it turned out. The roadwas clear and open before them, and the car rolled along smoothly.
"The firing seems to be moving now--moving to the southeast," saidHenri, once.
"I think our left wing is being drawn in a little. That will tighten upthe line. But it gives the Germans still more chance to get around thewing."
"We can bring up French troops to meet them, Frank. There is thegarrison of Paris--nearly five hundred thousand men. They have notstruck a blow yet. But if the Germans come too near, they will bebrought up to the first line."
"I believe that's what the French plan is, Harry!" said Frank. "Yes, whynot? To lead the Germans on and then take the risk of leaving Parisdefended only by its forts, and try a new flanking movement of theirown. Do you see? A new army, which could outflank the Germans while theythought they were outflanking us!"
The thought cheered them up wonderfully. It made it possible for them tobear the sight of Amiens, left without a single soldier of the republic,when they arrived.