Dale's voice shook as he read the letter. He was obviously much upset, and, seeing it, Dubec, in his uncouth but good-hearted way, persuaded him to return with him to his home for a little while. There Madame Dubec was called to their aid, and as soon as Dale had recovered himself a little the situation was anxiously discussed. In his desperation Dale was for interrupting the execution and compelling the Germans to execute him by the side of his friend. Such an idea as that was quite foreign to Madame and Monsieur Dubec, and they refused to entertain it. As the former said, if Monsieur Dale was determined to die, it would be better to do so in trying to liberate his friend rather than in attempting to share his fate.

The reasonableness of this struck even Dale, distraught as he was, and the three settled down to discuss the possibility of rescue, of reprieve, or whatever seemed likely to put off the evil hour, if only for a day.

CHAPTER XIV

Schenk at Work Again

Max did not long allow himself to give way to weak and bitter reflections. As soon as he properly realized how much he had fallen below himself, he exerted himself to throw off all weakening thoughts and to take a better and higher view of his unfortunate position. He was about to die for his friends and for his country. Well, had he not oftentimes thought that it would be a grand and good thing so to do? Was he now going to go back on those cherished ideals, and regret the heavy blows he had inflicted upon a brutal enemy and the succour he had given to his friends?

Indignant with himself, Max braced himself to a more wholesome frame of mind, and tried to prepare himself for the last scene of the drama of the Durend workshops--a drama in which he had been one of the princ.i.p.al actors since the war began. He would, he told himself, do his best to finish worthily the last and greatest task destiny had set him.

His self-uplifting efforts had met with a considerable measure of success, and he had almost completely regained his usual quiet, steady frame of mind, when his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden challenge of the sentry outside. The challenge was apparently answered satisfactorily, for the door was almost immediately unbolted, and a man entered. It was with very mixed feelings that Max recognized the manager, M. Schenk.

"You do not seem pleased to see me, Monsieur Max," observed the manager, smiling in an ingratiating manner that to Max was more objectionable at that moment than open triumph.

"Have I reason to?" queried Max shortly.

"I think so. But that depends as much upon you as upon me. You are aware that you die to-morrow?"

The almost casual manner in which the manager spoke struck Max as being doubly horrible. He seemed to think nothing at all of the execution of a fellow-creature, and one who had been closely a.s.sociated with him for a good many years.

"I am aware of it," replied Max as quietly as he could.

"Well, it seems a pity. Such a young fellow, and one so energetic and keen in his business, and with a brilliant future before him," said the manager in a smooth, velvety voice that Max had known him use to influential business men when he was specially anxious to gain his point. "I have, in fact, Monsieur Max, been talking your unfortunate case over with the governor. I have told him that, serious as this offence of yours undoubtedly is, you are really the tool of others. He is, of course, much incensed against you for the destruction of so important a workshop, but is ready to be merciful--upon conditions."

"Ah! and what conditions?"

"Not hard ones," replied M. Schenk, obviously pleased by the eagerness with which Max spoke. "You stole some plans of mine a month or so ago----? Yes? I thought it must be you, and I am ready to go to some lengths to get them back."

"They have left my hands, Monsieur Schenk."

"Where are they?"

"In the hands of the English Government."

"You rascal!" shouted M. Schenk furiously, his smooth, easy manner utterly giving way. "You--you--but, after all, I thought as much; and they were really of no great value," he ended lamely, recovering himself with an obvious effort.

"I thought they were," replied Max coldly.

"No; but what I want to know is about the other papers. Did you hand over _all_ you took to the English Government?"

Max thought a moment. Should he give Schenk the information he so evidently desired? So far as he knew, the papers had no particular value, though he had not really examined them with any care; but they might have. Still, they were safe enough, he thought, for he had seen them handed over into the possession of the bank.

"No--only the plans. The others seemed only business papers, and I had them put away in safety against the time when the Durend works should again be mine."

"It hardly looks as though they ever will be, does it, Monsieur Max? But I am going to make you an offer. Among those papers are letters that pa.s.sed between the Imperial Government and myself in the days before the war. They are valueless, really, but I do not wish them to get into enemy hands, as they will damage me in the eyes of my Imperial master.

You see, I am frank with you. Get me, then, all those papers and you shall go free--free, that is, on condition you join with me in running the Durend works to its fullest capacity during the war. I will not ask you to work on war material--you shall manage the shops manufacturing railway material and farming machinery. I need you and your influence with these obstinate Belgian workmen, and am ready to pay a heavy price to get you."

"A heavy price?" muttered Max. His head was beginning to whirl, and he caught confusedly at the last words.

"Ja. Think you it has cost me nothing to beg your life from the governor? He is madly enraged with you, I can tell you. These, then, are the terms: those papers and your active a.s.sistance, or your life."

Max sat slowly down in the chair and put his face between his hands.

Life was sweet, and he could not disguise from himself that he was ready to do the utmost he honourably could to save his life. But here, it seemed clear, dishonour was too surely involved. To give up the papers, if they were really private, might not be so hard, but to join Schenk in running the works, even on non-war material, was a thing he shrank from instinctively. Would the workmen understand the distinction? Would they not conclude he had turned traitor, and some revile him, and others--worse still--follow his dubious example?

Max was not very long in doubt. After all, he reasoned finally, anything proposed by Schenk must needs be bad, however plausible his tale. The only really safe line to take with a man of that kind was to have naught to do with him in anything.

"No, Monsieur Schenk, I cannot accept your offer," said Max in a steady voice, getting up rather suddenly from his chair and facing the manager resolutely.

"What? You----But why not, Monsieur Max?" he cried eagerly. "It is all nothing. But there, if you do not like to join with me in running the works I will not press that point. Get me the papers. Write for them to your mother, and as soon as they come you are free."

"No," replied Max at once. "No, Monsieur Schenk, I am going to have nothing to do with all this. I have fought and worked hard for Belgium since the outbreak of war, and I am not going to do aught to betray her now."

"Then die to-morrow--I shall at least have done with you!" cried M.

Schenk, with a bitter hate that told Max how much his blows had shaken him. "Your temerity in stealing my papers and in burning the machine-gun shop will be amply avenged."

"Have you then forgotten the power-house and the coal-yard?" asked Max with a secret satisfaction that made him forget, for the moment, even his approaching fate.

"Those too--were those your handiwork?" gasped the manager. "You villain--you nearly destroyed my power and reputation with them. 'Tis well you die. My only risk of further disaster will perish with you."

"Maybe. But I have the consolation of knowing that your treachery is known to many, and that when the war is over, and the Germans are driven out of Belgium, you will go with them."

"Bah! Belgium is German territory for all time. I tell you, Max Durend, that, were it not so, I would see to it that before our armies left not one stone of the Durend factories remained upon another. Take this with you to the grave: in memory of what you have done, the trouble and worry you have caused me, these works shall never more pa.s.s to your family. If Germany win, they will remain mine. If the impossible happen, and we lose, then I will blow the whole up to the sky and leave to your family naught but the smoking ruins."

The vindictive earnestness with which the manager spoke left no doubt upon Max's mind that he meant every word he said. The Durend works, then, were as good as lost to his mother and sister, and it was with additional thankfulness that he recollected that the large sum of money and valuables he had managed to rescue from Schenk's clutches would be ample, and more than ample, for their needs.

"You will not be able to remove the memory of duty done for our country," replied Max quietly. "And it may be that if Germany lose--as all in Belgium believe she will do--she may have to build up all that she has destroyed. It may be that there are great factories across the border in which _you_ have an interest, and it may chance that they will be called upon to replace the machines and buildings you destroy here."

Too enraged to speak, the manager made a gesture expressive of his complete rejection of such an idea, and turned abruptly away. Max also turned his back, and, in a silence expressive of bitter hate on the one hand and chilling contempt on the other, the two parted.

The discussion of the possibilities of rescuing Max by Dale, Dubec, and the latter's wife, soon took a certain shape. There was no chance of rescuing him while imprisoned in the governor's palace; that was clear at once, as they knew nothing of the whereabouts of his cell, and there was too little time to find out. There remained the opportunities presented while he was being conveyed from the palace to the gates of the Durend works, and during the execution within the yard. The latter seemed hopeless. The yards were bounded by high walls, or by the river, which was by this time well guarded, and the whole place was full of workmen, the majority of whom were well disposed towards German rule.

It was during the march from the governor's palace to the gates that the only hope seemed to offer, and upon this they concentrated their attention. The whole thing looked desperate in the extreme, but Dale was in such a state that either he must do something desperate or recklessly place himself by his friend's side. Eventually, mainly through the quick-wittedness of Madame Dubec, a plan that seemed to offer a chance presently began to take shape. This plan was to create so strong a diversion at some point of the route that Max might be enabled to make a dart away to safety, and to aid his further progress once the first part of the plan had been achieved. A diversion--strong, sudden, and terrifying--was what was needed, and to furnish this their united brains planned and planned until there emerged an idea that satisfied them all.

CHAPTER XV

The Dash

A curt command, and Max sprang to his feet. The last lap in the final of his life's race had been begun, and it was now for him to score a glorious win. For a win it was, even with his life sacrificed at the end of the race. Max well understood this, and it was with a proud, though steady, thoughtful air that he followed the non-commissioned officer who summoned him from his cell.