CHAPTER XVII
The Way Out
For nearly a quarter of an hour, though it seemed like a long-drawnnight, Kenneth and Rollo remained silent. Gradually the air becamepurer as the fumes escaped through the crevices in the brickwork. Itwas the darkness they dreaded most--a darkness that could almost befelt. It seemed to have weight, to press upon their eyes.
"I wish I had a match," whispered Kenneth.
Rollo felt in his pockets. It was, as he expected, a vain quest, forwhen in the hands of the Germans he had been rigorously searched, andevery article in his possession had been confiscated.
"This is the limit," said Kenneth dolorously. "I'd much rather be shotin action. Here we may be snuffed out and no one will be a bit thewiser. We may not be found for years, perhaps never."
"Oh, shut up!" exclaimed his companion. "It's bad enough withoutrubbing it in."
"I wasn't."
"Yes, you were; but, I say, don't let us start quarrelling. Thequestion is----"
"Hist!" whispered Kenneth. "I hear voices."
The lad was right. Almost above their heads heavy boots were stumblingover the debris, while the muffled sounds of guttural voices were borneto the ears of the two prisoners. The Germans were searching the ruins.
"I vote we shout. They'll dig us out," suggested Kenneth.
"I vote we don't," objected Rollo sturdily. "See, the gleam of alantern is showing through a crack or a hole in the brickwork, so itcan't be so very thick. We may be able to tunnel our way out when theyclear off. If we gave ourselves up, ten to one they would shoot us forgiving them all this trouble."
It was that small glimmer of light that raised their hopes, withoutwhich they would, through sheer panic, have called frantically to theirfoes for aid, without considering the consequences.
For perhaps an hour the Germans continued their search, until,discovering the passage of the final and fatal shell, they removedsufficient of the debris to enable them to descend to the cellar. Theentombment of the two lads now proved to be a blessing in disguise,for, screened from observation by the mound of rubble, their retreatwas unsuspected by the searchers.
Having found sufficient evidence to satisfy themselves that theBelgians who had ambushed the Uhlan patrol were themselves slain, theGermans concluded their investigations and went away.
For another long period the lads remained silent, until they feltconvinced that once more they were free from the unwelcome attentionsof the German troops. Then Rollo broke the silence.
"I'm jolly thirsty," he remarked.
"So am I," declared Kenneth. "There's some water in the bucket. Weneedn't be too particular. I dipped my handkerchief in it, but it wasfairly clean."
"I'm ready to mop water out of a ditch," said Rollo.
Kenneth groped for the bucket. It was within six inches of his footand standing upright, but it was empty. A fragment of shell had torn ahole through it close to the bottom. Not a drop of liquid was left.
"We've had a jolly narrow squeak," said Kenneth. "After that it wouldbe hard lines if we were knocked out in the last lap. I don't think weshall be. Suppose we start tunnelling."
"Steady on, old man! We ought to wait till it gets light. Then wewill be able to see what we are doing," expostulated his companion.
"I can feel."
"Yes, perhaps; but by dislodging part of the rubble you may cause asort of landslide and bury us completely. I vote we exercise just alittle more patience."
They had been conversing in whispers, lest the sound of their voicesmight be heard by a sentry, for it was quite possible that the Germansmight think they had not accounted for the whole garrison of the ruinedfarmhouse. They had good reason to believe that the Britishdispatch-rider had taken refuge there; the only chance was that theymight have come to the conclusion that Rollo was one of theunrecognizable victims of the deadly shell.
Slowly the hours of darkness passed, the silence broken only atintervals by the dull grinding of the subsiding debris and by adesultory, whispered conversation between the lads. Then Kennethbecame aware that he could indistinctly discern his companion's faceThe long-hoped-for dawn had come at last.
In another half-hour it was light enough to form a fairly accurate ideaof the state of affairs. The prisoners were in a triangular-shapedspace, two sides consisting of the adjoining walls of the cellar. Thethird was composed of a bank of broken bricks and stones, diminishingin thickness as it grew in height. Overhead a part of the vaulted roofhad fallen, but the brickwork remained cemented together, forming ashield from the rubble above it. But for this mass of brickwork thelads would have been crushed to death by the immense weight of theruined walls of the farm-house.
Between the topmost bricks and the overhead protection quite a stronglight penetrated into the cavity where they crouched. The earlymorning sun was shining directly upon the heap of debris.
"I think we can shift this stuff," remarked Kenneth, cautiously feelinga loose brickbat.
"All right, carry on," replied Rollo. "Only be careful to test eachpiece of rubble before you remove it. If we cannot make a hole throughin that direction we must try cutting through the existing wall. Itwill be a tough job, but you have your knife."
"I hope we won't have to do that. The cement is as hard as iron. Itwould take us a week. Let's hope for the best."
Proceeding very cautiously, Kenneth removed enough of the debris todisclose an opening sufficiently large to thrust his head through.Upon attempting to enlarge the hole the mass began to slide; theoverhead slab of brickwork rumbled.
"Steady on!" cautioned Rollo in alarm. "The whole show's caving in."
"It won't any more," declared Kenneth after a brief investigation."See that wedge-shaped brick? It's acting as a keystone of an arch.All we have to do is to remove the rubbish from the lower part of thehole and squeeze out sideways."
In another half-hour the gap through the mound of rubble was enlargedto roughly eighteen inches wide and two feet in height. To allappearances the danger of further subsidence was past.
"I'll go first, old man," said Kenneth. "Then, if I get through allright, I can give you a hand. Think you'll manage it with that leg ofyours?"
"I hardly feel it," replied Rollo, which was indeed no exaggeration.Keeping fairly still in that confined space, he had not tried theinjured ankle. But, almost as soon as he made the declaration, hebecame aware of a throbbing pain from his hip downwards. In spite ofKenneth's attention to the sprained ankle on the previous night, thelimb had swollen to an alarming extent.
Rollo made no mention of this to his comrade. He shut his jaw tightlyand endured the pain.
With the utmost caution Kenneth began to wriggle through the narrowtunnel, using one outstretched arm to pull himself over the roughbrickwork. The other arm he had to keep close to his side, and eventhus it was a tight squeeze. Before his head emerged from the openinghe stuck--and stuck fast. He felt as if he were suffocating; he wasassailed by the horrible dread that the rubble was slowly yet surelysubsiding. He wanted to struggle madly and desperately; to shout foraid. He was momentarily panic-stricken.
Controlling himself by a strong effort, Kenneth ceased to waste hisstrength in a useless attempt to drag himself from that horriblepassage. With the sweat pouring from him he kept quiet, filling hislungs with the cool morning air from without.
"What have you stopped for?" asked Rollo anxiously.
"Can't help it," was the muffled reply. "Give my legs a shove, oldman."
This Rollo did effectively by applying his back to the soles of hiscompanion's feet. Keeping absolutely rigid, Kenneth found himselfbeing pushed slowly yet gradually towards freedom. His heademerged--then his shoulders. He could now draw up his left arm andassist in the nerve-racking operation. Wellnigh breathless, bruisedand scraped, covered with dirt and dust, and with his clothing rent inseveral places, he gained the open air.
Kenneth had already had sufficient military experience to l
earn thevalue of concealment. Without attempting to stand he made a carefulsurvey of his surroundings. He was in a bowl-like depression enclosedon all sides by irregular hummocks of pulverized brickwork, tiles, andcharred timbers.
With a sigh of relief the lad realized that there were no Germans insight. The attacking party had not thought fit to leave a picket incharge of the ruins of the farm-house. To all appearances the twocomrades were the only living persons for miles around.
"I'll get the rope from the well and give you a pull out," announcedKenneth upon returning to the mouth of the tunnel. "It will be afairly easy job."
"Don't be long, then," said Rollo anxiously.
"I won't," replied the lad encouragingly, and without further delay hehastened towards the well. It was no longer there. Only a deep cavitypartly filled with rubbish marked its site. A shell had exploded closeto it, causing the walls to cave in, and throwing out enough earth toleave a pit three yards in diameter. The windlass and the rope hadvanished utterly.
"That's done it!" exclaimed Kenneth; then a brilliant idea flashingacross his mind, he bent his back and ran across to thepartly-demolished outhouse where he had hidden his motor-cycle.
With a shout of satisfaction he found the machine exactly as he hadleft it. The Germans had visited the adjoining shed, for severalbundles of fresh straw had been removed. Wisps of straw were scatteredon the ground, but the rotten material which Kenneth had thrown overhis mount had been considered unworthy of the spoilers' attention.
Deftly Kenneth removed the belt from the cycle and doubled back to thetunnel.
"You've been a time!" exclaimed Rollo with evident relief. "I thoughtyou'd tumbled into the well or had been collared by the enemy."
"Neither, thanks, old man. The well's gone to blazes and the rope aswell, but this belt will answer our purpose. Hang on with both hands,turn over on your side, sprained foot uppermost, and say when you'reready."
Upon receiving the signal Kenneth began to haul. To his great surpriseRollo was pulled through the narrow opening with very littledifficulty. Once more they were free; but they were not yet out of thewood. Between them and the Belgian army lay the lines of a vigilantand wary foe.