Роберт Чамберс - Who Goes There!

Michaud nodded. "It is possible," he said. "Brussels they may have taken; I don't know; but Antwerp, never! I know , Monsieur; I served my time with the artillery in the Scheldt forts. No German army could pass the outer ring of fortresses; the country can be flooded. Also our King is there with his Guides and Lancers and Chasseurs–à–cheval; the entire army is there. No, Monsieur, Antwerp is open to us if you desire to take us there."

"I do," said Guild. "It is the better way for all of us if the country still remains clear. It is better for us than to engage in a Chasse aux Uhlans. If I could lead a dozen sturdy recruits into Antwerp it would be worth while. And, except for the post at Trois Fontaines and the troops patrolling the railway, I can not see why the country is not open to us north of Liège."

"I know this country. It is my country," said Michaud, "and troops or no troops I can take you across the railroad before daylight." He shrugged his massive shoulders: "What is a Prussian patrol to a head forester?"

"You believe you can do it?"

"I pledge my honour, Monsieur."

Guild looked at Darrel: "I wish I knew whether there has been a drive toward Antwerp. If there has been it must have come from the sea by Ostend. But I do not believe Ostend has been taken." He turned to Michaud: "If the country is clear, why could we not pick up more men en route? Why should we not recruit in every hamlet, every village?"

"Mon Dieu, Monsieur, if there are hardy companions willing to go with the ragged men of the forest, well and good. Yet I could wish for at least one uniform among us. That represents authority and gives security."

Guild said thoughtfully: "I have an officer's uniform of the Guides among my luggage."

"Lord!" exclaimed Darrel, "you brought it with you?"

"There was to have been a regimental dinner in Brussels in September. I was asked last June, and they requested me to wear uniform. I had my uniform, so I packed it."

"Then it is there in your luggage at Quellenheim!"

"Yes."

"Well," said Darrel heartily, "I'm devilish glad of it. If they catch you in uniform they can't court–martial you with a jerk of their thumbs."

"I'm not worrying about that," said Guild carelessly, "but," looking at Michaud, "if you think a reserve officer in uniform is likely to encourage recruiting, I certainly shall use my uniform. You know your own people better than I do. I leave it to you, Michaud."

"Then, Monsieur, wear your uniform. It means everything to us all; we honour and respect it; it represents authority; better still, it reassures our people. If an officer of the Guides is seen in charge of a batch of recruits, no young man, whose class has been summoned to the colours, would entertain any misgivings. Nor dare anybody hang back! Our women would jeer and ridicule them."

"Very well," said Guild. "Now take me as far as the wood's edge where I can see the house at Quellenheim. Wait for me there and guide me back here, for I never could find this dark bivouac alone."

"Follow, Monsieur," said the old man simply.

In single file the three men moved forward through the darkness, Michaud leading without hesitation, Guild following close, and Darrel bringing up the rear.

In a few minutes the bluish lustre of the stars broke through the forest's edge. An overgrown ride ran westward; beyond, the highway from Trois Fontaines bisected it; and out of this curved the Lodge road.

It was dark and deserted; and when Guild came in sight of the Lodge, that, too, was dark.

Up the long avenue he hastened to the house; the fountain splashed monotonously in the star–light; the circle of tall trees looked down mournfully; the high planets twinkled.

He walked around the house, hoping to find a light in the kitchen. All was black, silent, and wrapped in profoundest shadow.

He picked up a few pebbles from the driveway, counted the windows until he was certain which one was Karen's. Her window was open. He tossed a pebble against it; and then another into the room itself.

Suddenly the girl appeared at the window.

"Karen!" he called. She leaned out swiftly, her braided hair falling to the sill.

"Kervyn!" she whispered.

"Dear, I've only a moment. Could you come down and let me in without waking the others?"

"The others? Kervyn, they have gone!"

"Gone!"

"Everybody's gone! A patrol of hussars galloped here from Trois Fontaines and ordered them across the Dutch frontier. I felt dreadfully; but there was nothing to do. So poor Mrs. Courland and her daughter and her servants have gone on toward Luxembourg with all their luggage. I'm here alone with the Frau Förster. Shall I let you in?"

"Did my luggage go to Luxembourg?"

"No; it is in the room you occupied."

"Then come down quickly and let me in," he said. "If there are German patrols abroad I don't care to be caught here."

The girl disappeared; Guild went to the front door and stood looking down the driveway and listening to catch any warning sound.

The next moment the door behind him opened and Karen's trembling hands were in his.

He gazed down into the pale face framed by its heavy braids. In her slim nightdress and silken chamber robe she appeared very girlish.

"What has happened, Kervyn? Your clothes are torn and muddy and you look dreadfully white and tired."

"Karen, they burned Lesse this morning."

"Oh!" she gasped.

"Everything at Lesse is in ashes. Some of the men are dead. The survivors are in the woods behind your house waiting for me."

She clung to his arm as they entered the house; Guild picked up one of the lighted candles from the oak table. She took the other and they ascended the stairs together.

"There was sniping," he said. "That always brings punishment to innocent and guilty alike. Lesse is a heap of cinders; they drove the forest and shot the driven game from the steps of the carrefour shrine. Men fell there, too, under their rifles—the herdsman, Schultz, the Yslemont men, the little shepherd lad with both his dogs. When their bearers came our way we fired on them."

" You! Oh, Kervyn! It means death if they find you!"

"I shall not be found." He took her by the hands a moment, smiled at her, then turned swiftly and entered his room holding the candle above his head.

After his door had remained closed for a few moments she knocked.

"Kervyn," she called, "I am frightened and I am going to dress."

"No need of that," came his voice; "I shall be gone in five minutes."

But she went away with her lighted candle and entered her room. The travelling gown she wore from England lay ready; boots, spats, and waist.

Swiftly she unbraided and shook out her hair and twisted it up again, her slim fingers flying. A sense of impending danger seized and possessed her; almost feverishly she flung from her the frail night garments she wore, and dressed with ever–increasing fear of something indefinitely menacing but instant. What it might be she did not even try to formulate in thought; but it frightened her, and it seemed very, very near.

She dragged on her brown velvet hat and pinned it, and at the same moment she heard a sound in the hallway which almost stopped her heart.

It was the ringing step of a spurred boot.

Terrified, she crept to her door, listened, opened a little way. Near the stair–head a candle shone, its yellow light glimmering on the wall of the passage. Then she heard Guild's guarded voice:

"Karen?"

"Y–yes," she faltered in amazement as a tall figure turned toward her clothed in the complete uniform of the Guides.

"Kervyn! Is it you ? Why are you in that uniform?" She came toward him slowly, her knees still tremulous from fear, and rested one hand on his arm.

"Dearest, dearest," he said gently, "why are you trembling? There is no reason for fear. I am in uniform because I shall attempt to take a few recruits and volunteers across the railway line tonight. We are going to try to make Antwerp, which is a quicker, and I think a surer, route than through Luxembourg and Holland. Besides, they might interne us. They would without a doubt if I were in uniform and if the Lesse men came to the frontier with their guns and bandoulières."