The Dispatch-Riders by Percy F. Westerman

Author:Percy F. Westerman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781620134733
Publisher: Duke Classics

Chapter XVII - The Way Out

*

For nearly a quarter of an hour, though it seemed like a long-drawn night, Kenneth and Rollo remained silent. Gradually the air became purer as the fumes escaped through the crevices in the brickwork. It was the darkness they dreaded most—a darkness that could almost be felt. 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, for when in the hands of the Germans he had been rigorously searched, and every article in his possession had been confiscated.

"This is the limit," said Kenneth dolorously. "I'd much rather be shot in action. Here we may be snuffed out and no one will be a bit the wiser. We may not be found for years, perhaps never."

"Oh, shut up!" exclaimed his companion. "It's bad enough without rubbing it in."

"I wasn't."

"Yes, you were; but, I say, don't let us start quarrelling. The question is—"

"Hist!" whispered Kenneth. "I hear voices."

The lad was right. Almost above their heads heavy boots were stumbling over the debris, while the muffled sounds of guttural voices were borne to 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 a lantern is showing through a crack or a hole in the brickwork, so it can't be so very thick. We may be able to tunnel our way out when they clear off. If we gave ourselves up, ten to one they would shoot us for giving them all this trouble."

It was that small glimmer of light that raised their hopes, without which they would, through sheer panic, have called frantically to their foes 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 removed sufficient of the debris to enable them to descend to the cellar. The entombment of the two lads now proved to be a blessing in disguise, for, screened from observation by the mound of rubble, their retreat was unsuspected by the searchers.

Having found sufficient evidence to satisfy themselves that the Belgians who had ambushed the Uhlan patrol were themselves slain, the Germans concluded their investigations and went away.

For another long period the lads remained silent, until they felt convinced that once more they were free from the unwelcome attentions of 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. We needn't be too particular. I dipped my handkerchief in it, but it was fairly 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 foot and standing upright, but it was empty. A fragment of shell had torn a hole through it close to the bottom. Not a drop of liquid was left.

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