Chapter II Heading]
The DEATH'S HEAD HUSSAR
I
"My compliments, Burton! You brought her down magnificently," saidCaptain Rolfe. "Not much damage done, I hope?"
The airman stooping over the engine grunted. In a moment or two a grimyface was upturned, the tall figure straightened itself, and a crispvoice said ruefully--
"Magneto smashed to smithereens!"
He passed round to the side of the machine, and retailed at shortintervals the items of a catalogue of damage.
"A stay cut! ... Two holes in the upper plane! ... Four in the lower!... Chips and dents galore! Still, we can fall back on the old wife'sconsolation: it might have been worse."
"All the same, it's precious awkward," said Captain Rolfe, putting hisfinger through a hole in the lower plane. "The Bosches will be here inten minutes."
"Not under twenty. They've some difficult country to cross. But, ofcourse, there's no time to lose. It's lucky there's a village closeby."
Edward Burton, airman, with Captain Rolfe, who accompanied him asobserver, had just made an enforced volplane and landed safely afterrunning the gauntlet of German rifles and machine guns. At the momentwhen he was flattering himself on being out of range, a shell burstclose beside the machine, bespattering it with bullets and putting theengine out of action.
Rolfe had seen cavalry galloping in their direction. The sudden descentwould apprise the enemy of what had happened. Whether in ten minutes orin twenty, there was no doubt that the arrival of the Germans wouldplace the airmen in a tight corner.
The first thought of the trooper is for his horse. The airman isconcerned for the state of his aeroplane. It was not till longafterwards that Rolfe and Burton discovered that they, too, had not comeoff unscathed. Luckily it was only Rolfe's sword-hilt that had beenshattered, not his groin; while Burton examined with a wonderingcuriosity two neat black holes in the loose sleeve of his overalls.
It did not occur to either of them that there was at least plenty oftime to slip away and hide before the Germans came up. Their instinctwas to save the aeroplane--a hopeless proposition, one would havethought.
Along the road from the village, a quarter of a mile away, half thepopulation was already speeding to the scene. The half, alas! was nowthe whole. There were women old and young, boys and girls, old men andmen long past their prime; but there was no male person from seventeento fifty except the village idiot, who flung his arms about as he ran,making inarticulate noises.
"Hang it all!" Burton ejaculated. "A crowd like this will dish anychance we might have had."
The crowd suddenly parted; the men doffed their hats, the women bobbed,as they made way for a horseman. It was an old straight figure, withshort snow-white hair and a long grizzled moustache. He canteredthrough the throng, turned into the field on which the aeroplane lay,and reined up before the Englishmen.
"You have had an accident"]
"You have had an accident, messieurs?" he said, raising his hat.
"Worse than that, monsieur," replied Rolfe, in fluent French. "TheGermans have hit us; the machine is useless; they are on our track."
"Ah!" exclaimed the Frenchman. Then, turning to the crowd who hadflocked up behind him and stood gaping around, he spoke in quick,staccato phrases, in a tone of command. "Back to your houses, my goodwomen. Take the children. These gentlemen are of our brave ally. Youmen, drag the aeroplane to the inn. Bid Froment lift the trap-door ofhis cellar ready to let the machine down. Some of you smooth away thetracks behind it. Quick! You, Guignet, post yourself on the moundyonder and watch for the Germans. The inn cellar is large, messieurs;there will be plenty of room. As to yourselves----"
The wrinkles of his aged face deepened.
"Ah, I have it!" he exclaimed. Turning to Rolfe, he went on: "You arean English officer, monsieur; that says itself. You have observationsto report. Take my horse; it is not mine, but borrowed from one of mytenants; my own are with the army. There is no other in the village.It will serve you."
"Thank you, monsieur," said Rolfe, as the old man dismounted. "In theinterests of our forces----"
"Hasten, monsieur," the old man interrupted. "Guignet waves his arms.He has seen the Germans. As for you, monsieur----"
"I will go to the inn," said Burton.
"My chateau is at your service, monsieur, but I fear it will prove anunsafe refuge. A haystack, or a barn----"
"I must stay by the aeroplane, monsieur; get it repaired if possible."
The old man shrugged. Guignet came up.
"The Bosches have taken the wrong road, monsieur le marquis," he said."They are riding, ma foi! how quickly, towards old Lumineau's farm."
"That gives you more time," said the old gentleman to Burton. "Pray useit to save yourself. They will not be long discovering their mistake.Adieu! I salute in you your brave nation."
Bowing, he hurried away across the fields towards a large chateau thatreared itself among noble trees half a mile distant. Burton followed thecrowd towards the village inn.
"A fine old fellow!" he thought, "but he doesn't know the Germans if hesupposes that the wine-cellar will be a safe place. I must findsomewhere better than that."
He overtook the men before they reached the village. Passing theancient church, an idea occurred to him.
"Is there a crypt?" he asked.
"Parfaitement, monsieur," a man replied.
"Halt a minute."
He hastened to the priest's house adjoining, at the door of which stoodthe cure in his biretta and long soutane. A minute's conversationsettled the matter.
"It is a good cause, monsieur," said the cure. "Direct our friends."
Superintended by Burton, the men wheeled the machine through the greatdoor into the church. While Burton rapidly unscrewed the planes,willing hands opened up the floor, and in a quarter of an hour theaeroplane was lowered into the crypt.
"Is there an engineer in the village?" Burton asked.
"Mais non, monsieur, but there is Boitelet, the smith--a clever fellow,monsieur. You should have seen him set monsieur le capitaine'sautomobile to rights. Boitelet is your man."
Burton hurried to the smithy. Boitelet, a shaggy giant of fifty yearsor so, accompanied him back to the church.
"Ah ca!" he exclaimed on examining the engine. "I can repair it, yes;but I must go for material to the town, ten miles away. It will be afull day's work, and what is monsieur to do, with the Bosches at hand?"
Burton thought quickly.
"Make me your assistant," he said after a minute or two. "I'll stripoff my overalls and clothes; lend me things--a shirt and apron. Alittle more grease and dirt will disguise me."
"But monsieur is young," said the smith. "All our young men are at thewar. The Bosches will make you prisoner--shoot you, perhaps."
"An awkward situation, truly," said Burton, rubbing a greasy hand overhis face. Suddenly he remembered the half-witted stripling among thecrowd. Could he feign idiocy as an explanation of his presence in thevillage? He could mop and mow, but nothing could banish the gleam ofintelligence from his eyes. And his tongue!--he spoke French fairlywell, but his accent would inevitably betray him to any German whochanced to be a linguist.
"There is only one thing," he cried. "I must pretend to be deaf anddumb. Tell everybody, will you?"
"It is clever, monsieur, that idea of yours," said the smith, laughing."Yes; you are Jules le sourd-muet, burning to fight, but rejectedbecause you could never hear the word of command. But you must becareful, monsieur; a single slip, and--voila!"
He shrugged his shoulder expressively.
"The Bosches! The Bosches!" screamed a group of frightened children,rushing up the street.
The people fled into their houses and shut the doors. Only the cure andthe smith were visible, the latter standing at his door leaning on hishammer, with an angry frown upon his swarthy face. Within
the smithyBurton was making a rapid change of dress. He rolled up his own clothesand equipment and threw them into a corner behind a heap of old iron,and donned the dirty outer garments hurriedly provided by the smith.After a moment's hesitation he ferreted out his revolver case from thebundle, and slipped the revolver inside his blouse.
"If they search me, I'm done for," he thought. "But they would shootthe smith if they found the thing here, so it's as broad as it is long.The case must go up the chimney."
Then, completely transformed, he came to the door in time to see a troopof the Death's Head Hussars gallop up the street.
They reined up at the door of the smithy.
"Now, you dog, answer me," said the major in command. "And tell thetruth, or I'll cut your tongue out. Have you seen an aeroplanehereabout?"
"Oui da, mon colonel," replied the smith, with an ironical courtesy thatdelighted Burton. "I did see an aeroplane, it might be an hour ago. Itcame down close to those poplars yonder, but rose in a minute or two andsailed away to the west."
"Go and see if he is telling the truth," said the officer to two of hismen. "And you, smith, look to my horse's shoes. Who is this youngfellow? A deserter? a coward?"
"Oh, he's brave enough, mon colonel," the smith answered. "But the poorwretch is deaf and dumb, a sore trouble to himself and his friends. Youmay shout, and he will not hear you; and as to asking for his dinner, hecan't do it. I only employ him out of compassion."
The officer glanced at Burton, who was trying to assume thatpathetically eager expression, that busy inquiry of the eyes, whichcharacterises deaf mutes.
"If he were a German we'd make him shoot, deaf or not," said the major."You French are too weak. Well?"
The troopers had returned, and sat their horses rigidly at the salute.
"Without doubt an aeroplane descended there, Herr Major," one of themreported, "and it flew up again, for there are no more tracks."
"It is not worth while continuing the chase. Night is coming on.Quarter yourselves in the village--and keep the people quiet. No one isto leave his house."
The troopers saluted and rode off, leaving a captain, two lieutenants,and four orderlies with the major.
"Look alive, smith," cried that officer, in the domineering toneevidently habitual with him. "Are the shoes in good order?"
The smith turned up the hoofs one after another, and pronounced themperfectly shod.
"Very well; if any of the troopers' horses need shoeing, see that it isdone promptly, or it will be the worse for you. Now for the chateau,gentlemen; monsieur le marquis will be delighted to entertain us."
There was a look upon his face that Burton could not fathom--an uglysmile that made him shiver. The horsemen rode away, and Boitelet, thesmith, spat upon the ground.