V
Covering the shrinking German with the revolvers, Burton glanced roundthe room, and moved towards an electric bell-push in one of the walls.
"Does it communicate with the kitchen?" he asked the wounded man, whonodded--weakness and the thrill of emotion bereft him of speech.
Burton rang the bell--a single sharp ring. In a few moments Pierreappeared. The expression of foreboding dread in his eyes gave way toconsternation, joy, eagerness, in turn.
"Some stout cord, Pierre," said Burton, "and shut the door behind you.My revolver may go off, and it would be a pity to disturb your master'sguests."
The irony was lost upon Major Schwikkard. The turning of the tablesseemed to have completely unnerved him. It is, perhaps, not true thatall bullies are cowards at heart; but a man is tested by adversity.
Pierre soon returned with the cord, and in a few minutes he trussed theGerman securely, Burton standing over him with a revolver.
"Now a gag!" Burton said. "Take one of those strips of linen; monsieurle capitaine will spare us one of his bandages."
At this the German found voice at last.
"You--you treacherous----"
"Not so loud, monsieur l'espion!" said Burton, fingering the revolver.
The German gurgled.
"You will--all be--shot," he gasped, "as soon as they discover----"
"Allons!" exclaimed Pierre, thrusting the gag firmly between his jaws,"it is done, monsieur."
"There is an unoccupied room, Pierre?" asked Burton.
"Assuredly, monsieur, at the end of the passage."
"Then we will take him there, and tie him down on the bed. His friendswill no doubt miss him in the morning, and release him--perhaps aboutbreakfast time!"
Such was Burton's contempt for the man that he felt no touch ofcompunction at the effect his words produced. Pierre and he werecarrying the German between them. His staring eyes proclaimed an agonyof terror. At dawn the wing was to be fired. He had carefully providedagainst premature discovery. His friends would be still sleeping offtheir liquor. He saw himself lost.
He writhed, his lips worked, but the inexorable gag preventedarticulation. The two carried him into the farther room, laid him faceupwards on the bed, and bound him firmly to the four posts. Themoonlight, streaming through the window, threw a ghastly pallor upon hiscountenance. His eyes pled for mercy, and Burton, after a few moments'hesitation, relented. If the terror-stricken wretch would show anyspark of good feeling, he would relieve his fears. He loosed the gag.
Schwikkard gulped, moistened his lips, and spoke gaspingly.
"You have me in your power ... but your revenge will recoil on you....Release me; I will leave the chateau at once.... I will agree to anyterms.... You shall go unharmed."
"You would bribe me?" answered Burton, coldly, disgusted that the manhad said no word of regret. "You have given us no reason to believethat your word is more to be trusted than any other German's. We are notgoing to kill you, in spite of your threats to a helpless gentleman andyour treatment of Madame. Your threats, perhaps, were not meant inearnest----"
"No, no," cried the German eagerly. "It was only--only a joke."
"Ah! such a joke is in very bad taste, so we will leave you to think itover."
Remorselessly he replaced the gag, and they left him to his reflections.
Returning to the invalid's room, they consulted in whispers. Thecaptain had closed his eyes. Full of admiration for his self-control ingiving no sign of having observed the stealthy approach from the door,Burton hoped that the wounded man might be strong enough to bear removalfrom the chateau to the cure's house, and thence to the British lines.
"Can we move him?" he asked Pierre.
"Ah, no, monsieur," replied the old man, bending over the bed and gazingwith poignancy of affection at the haggard face. "It would kill him."
Burton pondered, while Pierre spoke gently to his master's son andpoured wine between his lips. The captain's eyes were eloquent ofgratitude.
"There is only one thing to be done," said Burton at last. "Our army isslowly advancing: we must hold the chateau until it comes."
"But, monsieur, it is impossible!" cried the old man. "The Bosches arein the house: they fill the village."
"True; but this wing is defensible against anything except artillery,and we have a valuable hostage in the major. Let us see what monsieurle marquis says."
They went to the room where they had left the old general and his wife.Burton explained to the former what he had already done, and what heproposed to do. There was a gleam in the old soldier's eyes.
"Ma foi, monsieur, la bonne idee!" he cried. "It makes me young again."Then he glanced at his wife, and his face was full of trouble."Cherie," he said, "there will be danger. It will be no place for you.Will you not go to the cure's? It is dark: Pierre would lead you acrossthe fields."
"Mon ami," replied the old lady firmly, taking the general's hand, "myplace is with you and with Fernand. Is it for nothing that I am asoldier's wife?"
The marquis pressed her hand; his eyes were moist.
"Monsieur, it shall be," he said, simply, turning to Burton.
"Will you come with me then, monsieur?" said Burton. "Pierre, bringfood and candles from the kitchen, also a chisel if you have one."
The marquise returned to her son's room; Burton, accompanied by thegeneral, made a rapid tour of the floor. The head of the kitchenstaircase came to the passage near the door of the servant's bedroom inwhich the captain was now laid. The window of the room, overlooking theparterres in front of the house, was opposite the door. There were twodoors, one on each side of the passage, opening into rooms both of whichcommunicated with the bedroom. One of these had been temporarilyoccupied by monsieur and madame; in the other, Major Schwikkard wasconfined. At the farther end of the passage was a door opening on to alanding, from which the grand staircase descended to the hall below.
The general's experienced eye marked the possibilities of the situation.
"They will come up the grand staircase, monsieur," he said. "This dooris our outer defence. We must barricade it. If they fire through it,their shots will fly straight along the passage to the door of my son'sroom. They will hardly penetrate that and the barricade that we shallraise behind it. The Germans will break down this door and come intothe passage. We must then defend the rooms."
"And if they attack from the outside, monsieur?"
"The windows are shuttered. You observed that, and sent for achisel--to loophole the shutters?"
"That was my idea."
"It was good. We must barricade the shutters also in such a way that wecan approach the loopholes obliquely. Their Mauser bullets will easilypenetrate the shutters, although they are of oak."
"Here is Pierre. We must be very quiet and very quick; the sentry belowwill wonder at the prolonged absence of his chief."
"Is there a sentry?"
"There was to be. I will see."
He tip-toed to the head of the grand staircase, and peeped over therail. One of the orderlies was standing bolt upright against the door.
The three men removed their boots, and carried every portable piece offurniture to the doors and windows, piling them one upon another, andstrutting them with chairs, towel horses, and other small objects. Thechisel proved a useless tool for boring the hard oak. There was a firein the captain's room. Burton made a poker red hot, and with this burnta few loopholes in the shutters. After nearly an hour's strenuous work,carried on with extraordinary noiselessness, the preparations were made.
The old marquis was now trembling with excitement and fatigue. His wifegave him some wine, and, while he rested, Burton looked to the weapons.The German's revolver and his own were full. The marquise brought outtwo more, a rifle, and ammunition, from the depths of a cupboard.
There was now only to await events. It was nearly midnight. How longwould it be before the sentry became
uneasy at his commander's absence?With German stolidity, and the Prussian soldier's fear of his officer,he might never think of moving from his post. But after a time he wouldcertainly be relieved, and possibly a consultation with the relief wouldlead to action.
As Burton sat nursing the rifle, he was conscious of a smell of burning,distinct from the smell caused by boring the wood. Pierre had beenabsent for some little time in the room where the major lay. He camethrough the communicating door, followed by smoke. Burton started up.
"Have they set the place on fire already?" he asked.
"No, no, monsieur," the man replied, with a strange smile. "I wasmerely burning some paper."
Thinking that there were perhaps some documents which must not fall intothe Germans' hands, Burton asked no further questions. Once or twiceagain the same grim smile appeared about the old servitor's lips, andBurton concluded that he was pleased at having accomplished a necessarytask.
Two hours passed in almost silent waiting. The only movements were thoseof the marquise in tending her son. Then, about two o'clock, they heardsome one try the handle of the door at the end of the passage. Burtonhad locked it. In a moment there was a tap at the door. No oneanswered. It was repeated, louder and more energetically. Burton noddedto Pierre.
"What is it?" the man asked in German.
"The Herr Major; is he here?"
"Yes; he is resting; he must not be disturbed."
Footsteps were heard receding. The sentry was apparently satisfied.
"We must give them warning some time before dawn," said Burton,"otherwise the man Vossling will carry out his orders, and set fire tothe staircase."
"Knowing that the major is in this wing?" said the general.
"He may not know that. On the other hand he may. Then he will suspectthat something is wrong. In the one case, we should be burnt alive; inthe other, the man would be uneasy and come to wake the major. But thelonger we delay the more chance of relief. The sun rises at abouthalf-past six; the place was to be fired before dawn. How will theorderly interpret his instructions?"
"It is a nice calculation," said the marquis, who with renewed strengthhad recovered his keenness. "Will he wait until the darkness begins tothin, or abstain from setting up a rival to the sunlight? I do not knowthe German mind."
Time dragged for Burton. The marquis and his man dozed; the marquise,in the intervals of her ministrations, read a book of Hours. The slowclock ticked on the mantelshelf; three struck, and four.
At a little after four there was a loud knock on the door.
"At last!" said Burton, half in relief, half in misgiving. The old menstarted up, and grasped each a revolver. The lady put down her book andclasped her hands on her lap, pressing her lips together as if to shutin a cry.
"Who is there?" demanded Burton in French.
"Where is Major Schwikkard?" came the answer. An officer was speaking.
Burton saw that further concealment was useless.
"He is here," he called down the passage, "a prisoner."
The German swore.
"You dogs! You imbeciles!" he shouted, shaking the door. "Let me in.What do you mean by this buffoonery? If it is your trick, youwhite-headed old fool, you shan't escape hanging because you were once asoldier. You and your man are civilians in arms. You shall die byinches. Let me in, I say."
There was no reply. The officer shook the door again.
"Force it with your shoulder, Vossling," he said with an oath.
The door creaked, but the lock held. Next moment there was a crash; hehad blown in the lock with a shot from his revolver. But the doorbanged against the wardrobe placed behind it. The German swore again.Then there was silence. In a few minutes, several voices were heard.
"Remove this barricade, you old French fools," said the captain, in avoice thick with sleep, wine and rage, "or we will blow the place toatoms."
"And Major Schwikkard?" said Burton, quietly.
"That is not an old man speaking," said the captain to his companions."There was no one else in the house except the old hag and the woundedman."
"And the deaf mute," said one of the others.
"Potztausend! If that dirty fellow has played tricks on us I will crophis ears and cut his tongue out. Give them a taste."
Their revolvers spoke; three shots crashed through the wood, flew alongthe passage, through the open door opposite, and finally embeddedthemselves in the shutter. A moment later Burton, stepping to the edgeof the doorway, lifted his rifle and fired. There was a cry from beyondthe barricaded door, a volley of oaths, and a general stampede forsafety to the landing.
For a few minutes there was silence. The marquise stroked her son's hotbrow. Then a fusillade burst through the door and the stout barricadebehind it. The bullets pattered on the shutters, but the three men hadstood back out of the line of fire. None of them was struck by a shot,but a splinter of wood from the wardrobe glanced off the inner door amigrazed Pierre's cheek. Again and again the fusillade was repeated. Thedefenders, husbanding their ammunition, and careful not to exposethemselves, did not reply; they waited in grim silence, to meet theenemy's next move.
The failure of their efforts enraged and nonplussed the Germans. Warnedby the shot that had wounded one of them, they made no attempt to stormthe barricade. There was a short interval, and they were hearddiscussing the situation in low tones. The result was made clear in afew minutes. Bullets began to crash through the shutters to all thewindows.
"They have brought up men from the village, and surrounded the wing,"said the general.
"We shall be in no danger," said Burton. "Firing from the ground, theirshots will go through the ceilings."
In a short time this became apparent to the assailants. The attackceased for a little; then, through the window of the room in which themajor lay, bullets flew horizontally across the room, a few inches abovehis head.
"They will kill their own officer!" cried Burton. "We can't leave himhelpless in his present position."
"He deserves no pity," said the general. "Still, we are not Germans. Mycamp bed is there, lower than the bed he is on, and easily moved. Letus place him on that."
"Mon Dieu! It is the bed you slept on in '70, monsieur," cried Pierre.
"What then, my friend?"
"It is sacrilege, monsieur; it is treason to France--pardon, mon maitre,I should not have said that, but it would tear my heart to see a Germanon that bed."
"Let that be our _revanche_," said the general, quietly.
"I hope a German bullet may find him," muttered the old man, as theothers released the stiff figure upon the bed. They kept on their kneesto avoid the flying bullets, and so transferred the German from thelarger bedstead to the low single bed on which the general had made thecampaign of '70. They placed it against the wall in the corner near thewindow, out of danger. Leaving Pierre on his knees to fire up if anyGerman tried to enter the room through the window, they returned to theinvalid's bedroom.
"Strange that they should be so reckless of killing their own officer,"remarked Burton.
"They are callous ruffians," the general replied. "Besides, it is war;one life is of little account. That is what we all have to remember.The individual life is nothing; the cause is all."
The passage and the rooms were filling with suffocating fumes. Thenoise of shots, of splintering wood, of shouting men, was incessant.Hitherto, save for the single rifle shot fired by Burton, the defendershad not used their weapons. At the end of the passage they could nothave escaped the hail of bullets; from the side doors they could nottake direct aim. But the attack had now become so violent thatreprisals must be attempted, or the defences would be utterly shattered.An idea came suddenly to Burton. Closing the door leading to the sickman's room, so that the passage was completely dark, he passed into thenext room, shoved a table through the doorway, set a chair upon it, andwaiting until there was a slight lull in the attack, climbed upon thechair.
Standing
thus above the enemy's line of fire, and in darkness, he wasable to see, through the gaps made in the barricade and the door, afaint light filtering through from the lamp in the hall below. A crowdof Germans had come quite close to the door, and were thrusting theirrifles through the jagged rents in the panels. Burton took careful aimat one of them, fired, and a yell proclaimed that his bullet had gonehome. A second shot claimed its victim. Then the enemy, cursing withrage, rushed back from the door, and for a time continued firing fromthe angles of the landing.
Meanwhile the window at which Pierre was left had been driven in,shutter and all, by repeated blows of an axe wielded by a man mounted ona ladder. The old man fired just as the German was stepping from theladder to the window-sill. Shot through the heart, the intruder fellheadlong. None of his comrades was bold enough to emulate his daring.
The general had been chafing at his inability to take a positive part inthe fight. Stimulated by the success Burton had had from his post ofvantage, the old warrior's Gallic spirit threw aside caution. Slippinginto the passage, he was in the act of placing another chair on thetable when a bullet fired from the angle on the landing struck a brassbracket on the wall at his left, rebounded from it, and buried itselfwith a splinter of brass in the old man's arm. He reeled. Burton sprangdown to assist him, and carried him fainting into the bedroom, where hiswife received him into her arms.
The marquis is hit]
"Hard luck!" thought Burton, for the shot that wounded the general wasthe last to be fired for a considerable time.