Chapter 6: The Tunnel Of Saverne.

It is needless to follow the corps, step by step, through their marches; for the names of the little villages through which they pa.s.sed would not be found in any maps published in England, and would therefore possess little interest for English readers. After two days' long marches, the main body of the corps reached a village situated in a wood, at about four miles from the great rock tunnel of Saverne. The fourth company had been left at a village, five miles to the left; while the third company were, next day, to march forward to a place at about the same distance to the right.

Their orders were to keep a sharp lookout, to collect news of the movements and strength of the enemy; but not to undertake any expedition, or to do anything, whatever, to lead the enemy to guess at their presence in the neighborhood--as it was of vital importance that they should not be put upon their guard, until the great blow was struck.

As soon as they had marched into the village, the princ.i.p.al inhabitants came forward, and a consultation was held as to providing lodgings. After some conversation, it was agreed that the officers should have quarters in the village; and that the schoolrooms--two in number--should be placed at the disposal of the men. They were good-sized rooms, and would hold thirty men each, without difficulty. The company who were to march forward in the morning were provided with quarters in the village.

Ralph and Percy Barclay, as usual, acted as interpreters between Major Tempe and the inhabitants; for neither the major, nor any of his officers, spoke German. That language, indeed, was spoken only by a few men in the whole corps; and these the commandant had divided among the other companies, in order that each company might be able to shift for itself, when separated from the main body.

"Have you seen this proclamation?" one of the villagers asked. "You see that we are running no little risk, in taking you in."

Ralph read it, and as he did so his face flushed with indignation, and he exclaimed:

"This is infamous! Infamous!"

"What is it?" Major Tempe asked.

"It is a proclamation from the Prussian General commanding the district, major, giving notice that he will shoot every franc tireur he may catch; and also giving notice to the inhabitants that if any Prussian soldier be killed, or even shot at, by a franc tireur--if a rail be pulled up, or a road cut--that he will hold the village near the spot accountable; will burn the houses, and treat the male inhabitants according to martial law, and that the same penalties will be exacted for sheltering or hiding franc tireurs."

"Impossible!" Major Tempe said, astounded. "No officer of a civilized army could issue such an edict. Besides, during an invasion of Germany, the people were summoned by the King of Prussia to take up arms, to cut roads, destroy bridges, and shoot down the enemy--just as we are going to do, now. It is too atrocious to be true."

"There it is, in black and white," Ralph said. "There can be no mistake as to the wording."

Major Tempe looked grieved, as well as indignant.

"This will be a terrible business," he said, "if the war is to be carried on in this way. Of course, if they give us no quarter, we shall give them none. That is, we must make as many prisoners as we can in order that, if any of our men are taken prisoners, we may carry out reprisals if they shoot them.

"It will, besides this, do us great harm. Naturally, the villagers, instead of looking upon us as defenders, will regard us as the most dangerous of guests. They will argue:

"'If we make no resistance, the Prussians may plunder us, but at least our houses and our lives are safe; whereas if these franc tireurs are found to have been with us, or if they make any attack in our neighborhood, we are not only plundered, but burnt out, and shot!'

"Of course, we are always liable to treachery. There are scoundrels always to be found who would sell their own mothers, but now even the most patriotic cannot but feel that they are running an immense risk in sheltering us.

"Never before, I believe, in the annals of civilized nations, did a man in authority dare to proclaim that persons should suffer for a crime with which they had nothing, whatever, to do. If we arrive at a little village, how are the people to say to us, 'We will not allow you to pull up a rail!'? And yet, if they do not prevent us, they are to be punished with fire and sword. And these people call themselves a civilized nation!

"One of the evil consequences of this proclamation is that we shall never dare trust to the inhabitants to make inquiries for us. They will be so alarmed, in case we should attempt anything in their neighborhood, that they would be sure to do and say everything they could to dissuade us from it and, if inclined to treachery, might even try to buy their own safety by betraying us."

Major Tempe was speaking to the other officers, who thoroughly agreed with his opinion. Ralph and Percy had remained in the room, in case any further questions might be asked in reference to the proclamation. They now asked if anything else were required and, upon a negative answer being given, saluted and took their leave.

It was dusk when they went out and, as they walked towards the schoolroom, they heard a great tumult of voices raised in anger, among which they recognized that of Tim Doyle.

"Howld yer jaw, you jabbering apes!" he exclaimed, in great wrath.

"Give me a lantern, or a candle, and let me begone. The boys are all waiting for me to begin."

Hurrying up, they found Tim surrounded by a few of the princ.i.p.al inhabitants of the village, and soon learned the cause of the dispute. Supper was served, but it was too dark to see to eat it; and Tim--always ready to make himself useful--had volunteered to go in search of a light. He had in vain used his few words of French with the villagers he met, and these had at last called the schoolmaster, the only person in the village who understood French.

This man had addressed Tim first in French and then in German and, upon receiving no coherent answer in either language, had arrived at the conclusion that Tim was making fun of them. Hence the dispute had arisen.

The boys explained matters, and the villagers--whose knowledge of England was of the very vaguest description; and most of whom, indeed, had previously believed that all the world spoke either French or German--were profuse in apologies, and immediately procured some candles, with which Tim and the boys hastened to the schoolroom. Two candles were given to each company and--one being lighted at each end of the room, and stuck upon nails in the wall--the boys were enabled to see what the place was like.

Clean straw had been littered, a foot deep, down each side of the room; and fifteen blankets were folded, side by side, along by each wall. Upon pegs above--meant for the scholars' caps--hung the haversacks, water bottles, and other accouterments; while the rifles were piled along the center of the room, leaving s.p.a.ce enough to walk down upon either side, between them and the beds. At the farther end of the room was a large fireplace, in which a log fire was blazing; and a small shed, outside, had been converted into a kitchen.

"We might be worse off than this, a long way, Ralph," said Louis Duburg, as Ralph took his place on the straw next to him.

"That we might, Louis. The fire looks cheerful, too, and the nights are getting very cold."

"That they are, Ralph.

"Ah! Here is supper. I am quite ready for that, too."

The men who officiated as cooks--and who, by agreement, had been released from all night duty in consideration of their regularly undertaking that occupation--now brought in a large saucepan full of soup; and each man went up with his canteen, and received his portion, returning to his bed upon the straw to eat it.

"Anything new, Barclay?" one of the men asked, from the other side of the room.

"Yes, indeed," Ralph said. "New, and disagreeable. Mind none of you get taken prisoners, for the Prussian General has issued a proclamation that he shall shoot all franc tireurs he catches."

"Impossible!" came in a general chorus, from all present.

"Well, it sounds like it, but it is true enough," and Ralph repeated, word for word, the proclamation which he had translated to Major Tempe.

As might have been expected, it raised a perfect storm of indignation; and this lasted until, at nine o'clock, the sergeant gave the word:

"Lights out."

In the morning, after parade, Ralph and Percy strolled away together and had a long talk and, at the end of an hour, they walked to the house where Major Tempe had established his headquarters.

"Good morning, my friends," he said, as they entered. "Is there anything I can do for you? Sit down."

"We have been thinking, sir--Percy and I--that we could very easily dress up as peasants, and go down to Saverne, or anywhere you might think fit, and find out all particulars as to the strength and position of the enemy. No one would suspect two boys of being franc tireurs. It would be unlikely in the extreme that anyone would ask us any questions and, if we were asked, we should say we belonged to some village in the mountains, and had come down to buy coffee, and other necessaries. The risk of detection would be next to nothing, for we speak German quite well enough to pa.s.s for lads from the mountains."

Major Tempe was silent a minute.

"You know you would be shot, at once, if you were detected."

"No doubt, sir, but there is no reason in the world why we should be detected. The Prussians can't know everyone by sight, even within the town itself; and will not notice us, at all. If they do, our answer is sufficient."

"I tell you frankly, boys, I was thinking only last night of the matter; but--however much you may make light of it--there is, of course, a certain amount of danger in acting as spies; and your father--my friend Captain Barclay--might say to me, if evil came of it:

"'I gave you my boys to fight for France, and you have sent them to their death, as spies.'

"So I resolved to say nothing about it."

"But now we have offered, sir, the case is different," Ralph said.

"From our knowledge of the language, and from our age, we are better fitted than anyone in the corps to perform this service; and therefore it would be clearly our duty to perform it, were it greatly more dangerous than it is. Our father said to us, at starting:

"'Do your duty, boys, whatever the danger.'

"We will see about our clothes--there can be no difficulty about that, there are several lads in the village whose things would fit us. Shall we come in this afternoon, for instructions?"

"Thank you, lads," Major Tempe said, warmly. "I trust, with you, that no harm will come of it. But your offer is of too great advantage to the corps for me to persist in my refusal."