CHAPTER XIII
THE FRONTIER
NIGHT had fallen when Athol emerged from the dense wood. Overhead thestars were shining brightly, although occasionally obscured by driftsof pungent smoke from the still burning Zeppelin sheds. In front layan expanse of open fields, dotted here and there by isolated farmbuildings, while in the distance, and thrown into strong relief bythe flames, were the spires and roofs of a fairly large town.
"The Dutch frontier: that's my objective," decided Athol. "It's notmore than ten miles away. North-west is the bearing, and I have aboutseven hours of darkness before me. None too much time, if I have togo cautiously."
Fixing his direction by means of the North Star the lad set out,treading softly and straining his ears to catch the faintestsuspicious sound. As he proceeded other problems confronted him. Heknew from report that the frontier was guarded and that a barbed wirefence formed a formidable barrier. More, the fence had a live wire ofhigh voltage running through it, contact with which meant death tothe human being or animal that incautiously attempted to pass fromone frontier to another.
Also, in the event of success in the matter of gaining Dutchterritory there was the almost certainty of being interned unless hecould discard his uniform and procure civilian clothes. Much, then,had to be done before dawn.
Although by order of the German authorities the Belgians in theoccupied territory were obliged to be within doors at sunset, theroads were far from being unfrequented. Motor-cars, bearing excitedand furious German staff officers, rushed to and fro, for thedestruction of the Zeppelin sheds was a severe blow to the Teutonicorganisation. There was no rest that night for the Huns at Limburg.
It was unsafe for Athol to keep to the highway. For hours he pressedon, stopping frequently to take shelter while parties of Germanshurried along the tree-lined roads. It was not half so dark as thelad would have liked, and now that his eyes were accustomed to thestarlit night he found he could see with tolerable clearness for adistance of several hundred yards. Conversely it was equally possiblefor a German sentry to spot him from a like distance. Vainly he hopedthat it would rain, or that heavy clouds would obscure thestar-spangled sky.
He was becoming very hungry. His latest meal was but a reminiscence.Water, of which he found plenty, assuaged his thirst, but it was asorry substitute for the wholesome fare to which he was accustomed.
Three times he had to make a detour to avoid various compact hamlets.Once a dog began barking, rousing all the other canines in theneighbourhood, with the result that the lad had to retrace his steps,throw himself down and lie perfectly still until the clamour hadsubsided--a loss of half an hour's precious time.
"I can't be so very far off the frontier now," thought Athol. "Nowcomes the crucial test."
He found himself on the point of crossing a fairly broad highway,unfenced but lined with gaunt trees. Almost before he was aware ofthe fact he nearly collided with two German officers.
Fortunately for Athol their backs were turned to him. They werestanding on the edge of the road close to a large tree that hadeffectually prevented the lad from noticing their presence. They weremuffled in long cloaks through which the hilts of their swordsprotruded. Their spurs shone dully in the starlight as theyimpatiently shuffled their feet. In silence they stood, their gazefixed intently down the highway.
With his heart in his mouth Athol backed with the utmost caution. Ashe did so his foot broke a dry twig. He dropped lying face downwardsin the dewy grass, not daring to stir hand or foot until the Hunsmoved away. They were officers, he knew, and not sentries.Consequently there was no reason why they should stop thereindefinitely. At the same time Athol felt curious to know why acouple of cloaked cavalry officers should be standing mutely on thehighway at the hour of midnight.
Athol's fingers closed on the butt of his Webley. For the first timehe realised the companionship of his Service revolver. Without ithis whole attention would have been getting away unperceived; thanksto the knowledge that he had a reliable weapon at his command hecould run the risk with comparative equanimity of tackling the pairof Huns. But only should occasion arise. For the present he wascontent to keep watch upon the mysterious inaction of the silenttwain.
"Wish they'd get a move on," muttered Athol, after keeping in a proneposition for nearly twenty minutes. The night was bitterly cold. Hislimbs were beginning to feel stiff and cramped in contact with thedamp ground.
A sharp tug at his leather leggings almost caused the lad to utter anexclamation of alarm. For the minute he imagined that he was again inthe grip of the Hun, until, turning his head, he saw a huge ratscampering off. The officers heard the sound, too, for they bothlooked intently in the direction of the startled rodent. Then onemoved a few paces towards the centre of the road.
"They are coming, von Bohmer," he remarked.
"And about time," grumbled the other. "And, even now, we do not knowwhether von Secker will venture. If ever a man blunders throughexcessive caution it is friend Karl."
Von Secker--Karl. The names seemed familiar to the listening Britishsubaltern. Yes, by Jove he had it: Karl von Secker, the spy andemployer of the luckless Sigismund Selighoffer, and the fellow whohad made off with Desmond Blake's plans of the secret battleplane.
Athol, with his ear almost in contact with the ground, could nowdistinctly hear the rumble of cart wheels and the sharp clatter of ahorse's hoofs. A little later the vehicle pulled up, and a mandressed as a Dutch peasant threw the reins across the animal's neckand got down.
"What, alone, Herr Stein!" exclaimed von Bohmer. "Von Secker, then,has failed us. Has he sent any papers?"
"He says it is not safe to leave Dutch territory," replied thenew-comer, "or, rather it is unsafe to enter it again from this sideHe is nervous--just imagine our von Secker being nervous."
The man addressed as Stein laughed uproariously. It was obvious thathe was a German officer in disguise, otherwise he would not havedared to express his mirth in the presence of the haughty von Bohmerand his companion.
"But the documents, man!" exclaimed the latter impatiently.
"He says they are too bulky to send without risk of detection by thecustoms at the frontier. He assured me that the search is strict onthe part of the Dutchmen; far more so than by the Englanders atHarwich."
"Then in Thor's name, how are we to get them?" asked von Bohmer."Here they are, within five miles of German territory, and von Seckeris frightened."
"I think that it is a question of payment," suggested Herr Stein."However, the plans are at his lodgings at the Sign of the Golden Keyin Weert. He says that early to-morrow morning he will photographthem, so that should they be seized we will still have something towork upon. And, I believe in consideration of a sum of gold inadvance, he will then hand the plans over to me."
"Where can we get gold at this hour?" grumbled von Bohmer'scompanion. "I can understand von Secker's anxiety to securephotographs of the plans, since he is to be paid by actual results.It would be well to call upon him to-morrow, and let him knowdistinctly that it is the will of the General Staff that the plansshould be delivered to them forthwith. Is not that so, von Bohmer?"
The officer addressed grunted in assent.
"We must be off," he said. "To-morrow, Herr Stein, we hope to offeryou hospitality at the mess."
The officers turned and walked rapidly down the road in the directionof Hasselt, but before they had gone very far two orderlies leadingtheir horses slipped from under the cover of a tree. Although theywere less than a hundred yards from the spot where Athol lay, neitherhe nor they had the faintest suspicion of their respective presence.
As for the disguised German von Stein, he clambered into the cart,and, setting the horse at a leisurely pace, drove off in thedirection of Weert, a town lying a few miles within the Dutchfrontier.
Athol waited until von Bohmer and his companion had disappeared,then, keeping close to the line of trees, broke into a steady run,his boots making hardly any noise on the soft ground by the side of
the _pavé_. It was not long before he came in sight of the lumberingvehicle, which, although proceeding slowly, made a loud clatter asthe ironshod wheels rolled over the rough stones.
Unheard the lad overtook the cart and clambered softly on thetail-board. Stein was sitting on a board resting on the side of thecart, with his head on his hands and his elbows supported by hisknees. In this hunched-up position he looked half asleep, while thehorse, left to its own devices, walked stolidly along the centre ofthe highway.
Presently the road ascended a slight rise, which for this part of thecountry might be considered as a hill. Athol could discern theformidable line of barbed wire marking, the frontier boundary.Apparently there were no troops guarding this particular section,Already the majority of the Landsturm soldiers had been withdrawnfrom the policing of the frontier and had been sent to fill upappalling gaps in the German first-line trenches.
"Sorry, my man," soliloquised the lad, "but needs must."
He brought the butt end of his revolver smartly down upon HerrStein's head. Without a sound the Hun dropped senseless to the floorof the cart.
Leaping to the ground Athol stopped the horse. Then he listenedintently. Everything seemed quiet, although he knew it was quitepossible that a sentry, his suspicions aroused by the stopping of therattling vehicle, might appear upon the scene.
Still keeping his ears and eyes keenly on the alert, Athol quicklystripped the unconscious German of his coat, blouse, trousers andwooden shoes, slipping the garments over his uniform. His boots hewas obliged to discard in favour of the ungainly "_klompen._"
His next step was to release the horse from the shafts and to set theanimal adrift, after having removed the bit. This done Athol pushedthe cart to the edge of the road and on the grass. From this pointthe ground shelved with comparative steepness to the barbed wirefencing.
"Wonder if it's heavy enough for the job?" thought the lad.
He caught sight of a pile of large stones, the remains of ademolished building. Working desperately he quickly transferred anumber of stones to the floor of the cart. Then he paused for awell-earned breather.
Giving a final glance at the luckless Herr Stein, who was nowbreathing stertorously, Athol lifted the shafts and backed the cartdown the incline. Gathering way the now heavily laden vehicle dashedtowards the fence. Not until the back of the cart was within a yardof the barrier did Athol relinquish his grasp of the shafts.
Charging the wire fence fairly and squarely the novel battering rambore all before it, sweeping an expanse of nearly ten yards ofobstruction from its supports. The live wire, short-circuiting andemitting a series of vivid blue sparks, was writhing like a snake.
Using the wreckage of the overturned cart as a bridge Athol crossedthe once formidable barrier and gained Dutch territory.
"So well, so good," he exclaimed thankfully. Then seized with aninspiration, he added, "And why shouldn't I pay von Secker a visit atthe Sign of the Golden Key?"