"I care not," cried Max recklessly. "Let them take us both and let Krupp's take over the firm--at least our hands will be clean of treachery to our country. Once more, Monsieur Schenk, as my mother's representative, I appeal to you not to aid the enemy by running the works for their help and benefit."

The manager snorted indignantly. "_I_ am responsible here, and I am going to exercise my own judgment," he cried sharply. "And now, leave me. You are too young to discuss these matters and you weary me."

Turning round sharply on his heel, Max left the room. He had never been spoken to like that before, and it cut him to the heart. He wanted time to think out the situation and to make up his mind what action he should take. True, this man was manager and entrusted with great powers; but Max stood to some extent in the position of owner, and that he should be treated thus seemed an indignity in the highest degree. It was a relief to pour his woes into the ear of the faithful Dale, and together these two paced through the yard, conning over earnestly all the bearings of the situation. It was while they were thus engaged that a fleet of thirty or forty great military motor-lorries rattled by.

"The beginning," cried Max bitterly, nodding towards them.

"Yes, I fear so. I wonder what they are after?"

"Let us follow and see. We may as well know the worst."

The wagons came to a stand alongside one of the largest of the stacks of empty sh.e.l.ls which now dotted the yard, and, with a prompt.i.tude that showed that everything had been arranged beforehand, the tarpaulins that covered the stacks were thrown aside and the sh.e.l.ls pa.s.sed one by one into the wagons.

"Now that seems queer to me," remarked Dale, as he watched the men with a thoughtful face. "What can the Germans want with sh.e.l.ls that will only fit the Belgian guns! Queer, I call it."

"They may be going to use them in the captured guns," replied Max. "Let us look in again at the casting-shops and see if they have started on sh.e.l.ls for German guns. 'Pon my word I have half a mind to appeal to the men to cease work, strange as it would be coming from the owner's son while the manager of the works made no sign. The place is running at top speed too--see, Dale?"

It was evident that there was no relaxation here. The whole of the buildings and furnaces engaged in the castings were simply humming with energy, and when they entered the nearest door they were amazed. Double the number of men that were at work the day before were now engaged and were working with an intensity that seemed inexplicable to Max.

As they entered, one of the foremen came up to them.

"Keep a still tongue, Dale," muttered Max beneath his breath.

"You are late, Monsieur," he said, addressing Max and gazing at him somewhat closely. "Are you going to work this morning?"

"I think not," replied Max, shrugging his shoulders. "I see you are pretty well full up with men."

"Yes, we have had a lot more hands placed at our disposal here. I estimate that we shall turn out at least three times as many sh.e.l.ls as yesterday."

"The new men are German-speaking, of course?"

"Of course. This business will be profitable for the firm no doubt?" The man looked at Max as though not quite certain of the state of affairs.

"Undoubtedly. Has Monsieur Schenk given any orders for a change in the calibre of the sh.e.l.ls?"

"No. We are still on the same gauge. But I suppose we shall be making all sizes soon. There is no help for it, of course; we must submit to the inevitable?"

Max turned away. "This trebling of output does not seem like unwilling submission to the inevitable, Dale," he whispered savagely. "Come, let us get out of this--I'm choking here. The place reeks to me of treachery. If I had the strength of Samson I would bring the roof down and bury the whole villainous crew beneath the ruins."

"There's certainly something dirty going on," agreed Dale. "But if we're not Samsons we have strength enough to put a spoke in their wheel, I fancy. Let us wait a bit and see."

In savage silence the two lads left the casting-shops and walked mechanically on towards the buildings which had been engaged on peace-time work. Here all was quiet and almost deserted. Only a machine here and there was running, and at first they thought that the whole of the workmen had been diverted to the other shops. But at the farther end of the yard they presently noticed groups of men congregated together, much as they were wont to do in the dinner interval. But it was not the dinner interval now.

"What's the matter here? This looks as though some part of Schenk's plans had gone awry. Are they dismissed, or are they refusing to work?"

"Refusing to work, by the look of the armed guards yonder," replied Max, nodding towards a body of German soldiers, a dozen or more strong, posted at a corner of one of the buildings within easy reach of the entrance. "Let us have a talk with one or two of the men and find out what's afoot."

"Aye, but don't let our German friends see us talking to them. They will think it a conspiracy."

The two lads joined themselves to one of the groups, and began questioning them as to the reason for their presence there instead of in the workshops. But somehow the men seemed to view Max and Dale with coldness and suspicion, and either refused to reply or answered in sullen monosyllables. Max was about to turn away, in disappointed perplexity, when he noticed the man Dubec. In sudden relief he appealed to him to tell him what was happening.

"It is because we will not work if the goods are to be seized by the Germans. We are true Belgians--not like those traitors who fill the sh.e.l.l-shops--and we cannot work against our country."

"And you are right," cried Max warmly. "I am with you heart and soul."

"Huh! But what our men cannot understand is why the firm does not close down. Why is it left to us poor workmen to show our patriotism? Why does not the firm take the lead? We would stand by them to the death if need be."

"I believe you," cried Max, with difficulty gulping down the lump that rose in his throat. What a cur he felt--he, the owner in the sight of these men, helpless to influence in the slightest degree the affairs of the great works called by his name. "But, lads--to my shame I say it--I am helpless. I am but just come from demanding of Monsieur Schenk that the works should be closed. He will not hear of it, and it is he who has the power, not I. And behind him stand the Germans. I can do nothing, and I feel the shame of it more than I can say."

Max's voice trembled with earnestness and sincerity, and the men clearly believed him. Their cold looks vanished, and the one or two near him seized him by the hands and wrung them vigorously.

"That is good, Monsieur. We are glad to hear that you are for us. It makes our stand easier now that we know that the owners at least are on our side. As for that Schenk, we have always hated him as a tyrant, and now we doubly hate him as a traitor as well."

"Aye," broke in another of the men, "he is the cause of the mischief.

And we have sworn not to work so long as the Germans hold the town. If we were ready to strike and suffer long for wages, will we not do so for the good of our country?"

The man gazed round at his comrades, who gave a half-cheer in answer to his appeal. The attention of the German guards was attracted by the sound, and the non-commissioned officer in charge instantly ordered his men to advance on the offending party.

"Disperse!" cried Max and one or two more, and the group broke up, most of the men walking out of the yard into the open road. The regular tramp of heavy-booted feet and harsh commands that followed them were a further reminder, if one were needed, of the utter change that had come over the scene of their humble daily toil.

CHAPTER VIII

Treachery!

"What is to be our next move, Max?" enquired Dale presently, after they had walked almost mechanically nearly a mile from the Durend works upwards towards the hills on the western side of the town. Twice he had to repeat his question, for Max was too immersed in thoughts bitter and rebellious to pay much heed.

"I care not where we go, Jack. For me everything seems to have come to an end."

"I know, I know, Max, just how you feel; but do not give way to it.

There is Belgium to live for; and you have what I have not--a mother.

Let us go home and think things out."

"I cannot rest at home, Dale--yet. Let us walk on for a while. We shall feel free on this side of the town. Thank G.o.d, the forts here are still holding out, and the Germans have not yet over-run the countryside.

Presently we shall reach the Crofts, and we will sit in the cottage or the old summer-house while we talk it all over."

On the western side of the town, at a distance of some six miles or so, Madame Durend owned a little old-fashioned cottage, picturesquely planted in a large garden and wood. It was a favourite resort of the family in summer-time, and Max and Dale had had their full share of its pleasures. For one thing, there was an asphalt tennis-court there which had claimed a large part of their spare time, not to mention that of Max's sister and her friends.

Avoiding the road, in order to lessen their chance of encountering enemy patrols, Max and his friend travelled across fields and along bypaths towards the cottage. They had come to within half a mile or so of the place when they were startled beyond measure, and almost stunned, by a tremendous report like the explosion of an enormous gun. It was close at hand, too, and seemed to come from the general direction of the cottage.

Almost immediately there was another similar report, followed by others at a greater distance. Max and Dale looked at one another significantly.

"Attacking either Fort Loncin or Fort Hollogne," said Max resignedly. "I wonder we have got so far unnoticed."

"Yes; but now we are here we may as well see the fun. Let us go to the Crofts, and climb the big oak as of yore. We shall see everything from there."

"And be seen too, I'm thinking. Never mind; I feel reckless enough for anything this afternoon."