III
"You heard about the night raid? Well, we were completely cut off fromthe rest by a counter attack, from the flank. We tried to bomb our wayback, lost heavily, got all muddled up. There seemed to be a wholebrigade of Huns between us and our lines, so the only thing to be donewas to give them the slip, and dodge around in the hope of finding aweak spot where we might break through. There are only twenty-four ofus left. We managed to keep together, and were lucky enough to escapethe Huns; but of course we got hopelessly lost. Just before daylight,dead beat, we stumbled into the wood yonder, not caring much whathappened to us. In the early morning an old French farmer found usthere. My hat! we felt pretty bad when he told us we were deep in theenemy's country, and a company of Huns billeted in his farm only half amile away. Rummy, isn't it?--he's held on, working his farm in spite ofeverything, and the Huns don't seem to have bothered him much."
Here one of the men brought some freshly-fried bacon, biscuits, andlight wine.
"Fall to!" Hedley went on. "It was a tremendous bit of luck, oldLumineau's finding us, because of this cave of his. It is on theoutskirts of his farm, and he concealed here a lot of his spare storeswhen he had news that the Huns were coming up last Septembertwelvemonth. The cave has had a history, it appears, and it's luckyagain that the Huns don't know of it. The old farmer told me it used toshelter a famous band of outlaws centuries ago. During the Revolution alocal nobleman's family lived in it for months. More recently it hasbeen a store for smugglers running goods across the Belgian frontier.We're pretty safe here, though of course a strolling Hun may discover itany day, and then----"
"How did you happen to be in the wood when I came down?"
"We weren't there, but we heard your engine, and Stanbridge, who's got awonderful ear, declared it was English, so we rushed up on the chance.If it hadn't been so dark and raining so hard, the Huns would certainlyhave seen or heard you; but you always had all the luck!"
"You've had a good share, anyway."
"We have, that's true. Old Lumineau has kept us well supplied, atHeaven knows what risk to himself. We're hanging on here in the hope ofgetting back some day. It's pretty hopeless, I expect; but I'm not goingto give in till I must."
"Can I do anything for you?"
"I don't see how you can. We must trust to luck."
"When that wheel's straightened I'll fly back and report to yourcolonel."
"He can't do anything. Nothing short of a general push could gain thisground, and he won't risk hundreds for the sake of a score. Our onlychance is to slip through when they're strafing one night; even then theodds are a hundred to one against us. Still, I dare say the C.O. wouldbe pleased to know what's become of us, and I'll be glad if you'll tellhim. But d'you think you're fit to fly back to-night after yourgruelling?"
"Oh yes! I've had a bit of a shake, but a little rest will set me up.I've discovered a new battery the Huns have rigged up, and must reportas soon as possible. Look: here's the spot."
He showed the mark recently made on his map.
"Good!" said Hedley, examining the map with interest. "But the Huns'trenches aren't marked so completely as on mine. Here you see we havethem all plotted out: we know them as well as we know our own."
"That's useful. I say, Hedley, I don't see why we shouldn't make somepractical use of your presence in the enemy's country, and get you awaytoo."
"As for getting away, we shall have to depend on ourselves. As I saidbefore, the C.O. won't risk hundreds for the sake of our little lot; andif he would, the Brigadier wouldn't allow it."
"I don't know. Could you make me a copy of the map so far as thisneighbourhood is concerned, putting in the position of the cave?"
"Certainly: I'll scratch it in on a leaf from my order-book."
The rough drawing completed, Burton folded the paper and put it in hispocket, remarking, half in jest, half in earnest--
"If the Huns collar me, I'm afraid I'll have to eat it. Now this is myidea."
There ensued a long discussion, in the course of which Hedley passedfrom doubt to confidence and enthusiasm.
"Well, if you bring it off," he said in conclusion, "it'll be atremendous score. You're a V.C. already: I don't see what more they cando for you--except make you a lord."
"My dear fellow! ... There's just one point. I ought to have a betterlanding-place than that wood. After to-night's affair I shall benervous if there are trees about. Is there anything more suitable andsafe?"
Hedley considered.
"There is," he said presently, "a little farther away. Beyond the woodthe ground rises: it's the nearest thing to a hill these parts can show.Then it dips into a wide grassy hollow. That's your place. I'll getold Lumineau to show three small lights there to-morrow night at eleven.In the hollow they won't be seen by the Huns: besides, I'll get him tomask them except from the sky."
"That's capital. Well, if I don't turn up by eleven or soon afteryou'll know that either I have been winged on the way or that theBrigadier has turned down our little entertainment. In that case, youmust do the best you can on your own."
"Right, old man. What I'm most afraid of is that you won't get awaysafely. There's no strafing to-night, and the Huns are bound to hearyour engine. You'll make more noise going up."
"But it's dark: there's no moon; and I shall be well up before they spotme."
"Let's hope so."
"What's the time?"
"Ten minutes to nine. Better wait till midnight. Take a nap."
"I will. Wake me when the time comes."
Burton was one of those lucky mortals who can sleep anywhere at anytime. In a few minutes he was sleeping soundly. At midnight Hedleyroused him.
"Time's up," he said. "The rain has stopped, and the sky's clear:there's just enough starlight to show you the way. I'm sendingStanbridge and a squad to replace your wheel, carry the machine out andsee you off. I'd better keep on the _qui vive_ here, I think."
"Good-bye, then--till to-morrow."
Following the men, Burton stole out of the cave and crept with extremecaution into the wood. The neighbourhood was quiet; the only sound wasthe booming of guns far away. The wheel was replaced; the 'plane wasquickly dragged or lifted to the open hollow about a quarter of a mileaway. Burton spent a few anxious minutes in looking over the engine bythe light of his electric torch; then he strapped himself into his seat,and ordered Stanbridge to whirl the propeller while the other men clungto the rear of the machine.
"Race back like mad when I'm off," he said. "'Ware Huns!"
The engine began to roar.
"Stand clear!" he said.
The machine rolled off along the grass, gathering momentum; the taillifted; the wheels rose clear; and she skimmed the grass like a hugebird. In a few seconds Burton was slanting upward on the first round ofhis spiral course.
Ten minutes later a party of German infantry, some fully clothed, othersin various stages of deshabille, rushed breathlessly over the rise intothe now deserted hollow.
"I am sure," said one of them, "the first sound came from somewhereabout here. Then an aeroplane rose like a big black bird above thetrees. I gave the alarm the moment I heard the engine."
"You must have been dreaming, stupid," said his lieutenant, irritable atbeing wakened. "There was no aeroplane here at nightfall; one couldn'thave gone up if it hadn't come down first, and I must have heard that.Think yourself lucky I don't report you for sleeping on duty.Feldwebel, bring the men back."
The lieutenant turned on his heel and plodded grumbling back down thehill. The glare of Verey lights, the bursting of shells in the skywestward, might have confirmed the man's story; but LieutenantSchnauzzahn was never the man to admit himself in the wrong.