amos was smart enough to take all necessary precautions when jumping. he did not meet with any accident, and was in condition to wave a jolly farewell to the gunners in khaki, who had turned in their seats to see the last of the american boys carrying that autograph letter from the british commander.
“a rough and ready lot of fine chaps, i should say, jack,” remarked amos, after they had watched the caisson whirl past an obstruction that shut it out from their view.
“yes, and it’s tough to think that perhaps not a corporal’s guard of the whole squad will ever go back again to their english homes,” replied the other. “to see the way they joke and make merry i don’t believe that bothers one of them the least bit. when you stop to think of it, the[282] worst of a war in these times is that it takes off so many hundreds of thousands of the finest young men, leaving cripples, old fellows and those who are of little use in the world.”
“now i hadn’t thought of that before,” admitted amos, candidly. “it’s really a fact, though, isn’t it? every soldier nowadays has to be physically sound, of a certain height, and even his teeth are examined to make sure they’re fit. when a million or two such athletes are cut off, the old world is going to take a step backward for years to come.”
“let’s put our best foot forward, and get to what’s left of the village, amos.”
they trudged along for a little while in almost absolute silence, each boy being busily occupied with his own thoughts. perhaps amos, as would be quite natural, was planning what arguments he should use when he came upon his brother. jack on his part may have been thinking more of the fate that had overtaken the poor belgian village which by the fortunes of war seemed to[283] have been in the direct line of fire between the hostile armies.
as they reached a certain little knoll they were given an opportunity to take their first good look at the place where they had passed that never-to-be-forgotten night, when the roar of approaching battle had stirred their young blood to fever heat.
amos uttered a cry in which astonishment was mingled with pain. he even rubbed his eyes as though he almost believed they had deceived him.
“jack, it’s gone!” he gasped. “the poor village i mean! just see how the cottages have been smashed to smithereens by the shells the germans hurled over here while the allies were holding the place! oh! it’s terrible, terrible! i don’t believe there are two stones on top of each other.”
“well, it isn’t quite as bad as that, amos,” said his comrade, “because i can see several houses still standing, though they’re wrecks at that. but if ever there was a peaceful village turned into a howling wilderness this one has been.”
[284]
“but, jack, what’s become of the people?”
“a whole lot of them were wise enough to get away at the time we did,” jack reminded him. “you remember how we found them strung out along the road. by now we hope they’ve found lodging somewhere in northern france; for the french people have warm hearts, and owe belgium such a heavy debt for holding back the kaiser’s army that they will share their last crust with their neighbors.”
“still there were some who meant to stay here, jack?” urged amos.
“that’s true enough,” came the answer, “and our old landlord the burgomaster was of the number, though i reckon he insisted on most of his people going away. they had a good deep cellar under that cottage, he told us; perhaps no german shell buried itself down there to find them out. come, let’s head that way. i’ve got an idea the one house we can see standing over there is the very home where we were taken in.”
“i hope so, jack, i surely do!” exclaimed the other boy fervently. “i’d hate to learn that such[285] a fine old man had been done for. if that is the house, though, i’d never recognize it with the corners torn off, and the chimney fallen in ruins. oh, jack, see, there’s a gaping hole in the wall showing where a shell passed through. if it exploded inside we can guess the fate of all that were hiding there.”
“look again, amos, and you’ll see that it came out through that hole, and buried itself in the ground right here. it was a german shell, of course, as pretty much all that fell upon this place must have been; for the british were behind the houses holding the enemy off, and every effort was made to chase them out.”
“but they held their ground, it seems like,” said amos, “and with the coming of reinforcements pushed the germans back a mile or more. now to find out what happened to the old burgomaster.
“jack, tell me, isn’t that some one moving around inside the ruins of the cottage?”
“i do believe you’re right, amos. we’ll soon[286] know who it is,” replied the western boy, as he made for the doorway.
the cottage could only be called a ruin, even though its four walls still stood, and part of the roof seemed to be fairly intact. a tree just outside that had given grateful shade for many years was stripped of its limbs, and the trunk stood like a gaunt skeleton, a grim reminder of the furious hail of bombs that had fallen upon that devoted village for hours.
jack had to almost climb over the mass of debris that cumbered the open doorway. he immediately found that the wrecked cottage did have occupants. several figures were stretched upon blankets on the floor, and others hovered over them, showing that the place was really being used as a sort of hospital.
jack immediately saw, however, that those who were being thus attended were not soldiers of the line. one was a woman, another an old man, while the third seemed to be a small figure, presumably that of a mere lad.
[287]
a hand clutched jack’s arm, and the voice of his chum whispered hoarsely in his ear:
“our old friend has come through it all with his life, jack; don’t you see him giving that boy a drink, and passing his hand over the poor little chap’s forehead? seems to me i’ve set eyes on that boy before, and—yes, as sure as anything, jack, i do believe it’s little jacques. he’s been struck down, just as we feared.”
“they seem to be hovering over him in a strange way,” ventured jack. “there’s a belgian soldier holding his other hand, and two women doing what they can. jacques doesn’t lack for friends, it seems. i wonder what it all means, and if he tried to carry out that foolish vow he made about getting revenge for his father’s death.”
just then it happened that the old burgomaster, who no longer had a village under his charge, looked around. he may have heard the murmur of their voices during some lull in the dreadful chaos of sounds that came from the front, rising and falling as the wind chanced to swerve.
[288]
at sight of the two american boys his wrinkled face showed great pleasure. he immediately got up from his knees and hurried toward them, holding out his hand in warm welcome.
“i am glad to see you again, young messieurs,” he said, simply. “i wondered much what had become of you, and prayed that you had escaped the terrible shells that seemed to cover every mile of territory around this poor village.”
amos was conscious of a feeling of amazement. he marveled greatly that the good old man could spare even one thought for them, when he himself was face to face with so overpowering a peril. it certainly spoke well for his heart. no wonder then that those who had lived in that place had made him their burgomaster. in belgium that name stands not only for mayor, but father to the entire community, with an eye single to the welfare of the “children” entrusted to his care.
“we are glad, too, on finding that you escaped when so many must have been killed or injured[289] here, even while hidden in cellars,” jack told him.
the burgomaster shook his white head dismally. there was an expression of woe on his face, but in spite of all jack could detect the gleam of an unconquered spirit in those unflinching eyes. the kaiser might overrun belgium with his soldiers, and hold every foot of soil, but he would never be able to crush the independence of soul that has always been the common heritage of every belgian.
“it has been a terrible calamity,” he said, simply. “we bow our heads before the storm, even as the trees do when the wind blows, and the thunder rolls. but after it is all over they raise their crests again. so, too, young messieurs, will belgium rise from the ruins of her cities and towns to become greater than before.”
how proudly he said that. amos would never forget the exalted look on the seamed face of the old burgomaster. somehow he found it in his heart to believe every word of that prophecy must in the course of time come true.
[290]
“these wounded persons, did they get their injuries while down in the cellar? was it a shell that exploded there to scatter death around?” jack asked, nodding toward the group hovering around the blankets on the floor, upon which those forms were stretched.
“heaven was merciful in that nothing like that came upon us,” the old man hastened to inform him. “they received their hurts outside, as did others who are now being cared for amidst the ruins of our poor houses, by some of those who remained with me in shelter.”
“and how about little jacques?” asked amos, unable to hold his curiosity in check any longer.
the burgomaster allowed his grim features to relax for a brief moment in what was almost a smile; though with so much suffering around him it sat strangely upon his face. he nodded his head several times as he went on to say:
“ah! young m’sieu, that is the most remarkable thing i ever knew to happen. yes, it is little jacques you see there on the blanket. he has been injured, but we hope and believe he[291] will recover. he surely will if our prayers are of any avail; for, wonderful to say, little jacques is this day a hero of heroes!”
at that amos uttered a pleased cry.
“oh! do you really mean to tell us the little chap actually found his chance after all? what did he do—what could so small a boy do against the fighting soldiers of the kaiser? please tell us all about it.”
“it was in this way,” described the burgomaster, proudly. “when the germans came into the village after that first furious bombardment they managed to hold half of the place. there was fighting in every street, desperate hand-to-hand fighting, for those british were determined they would not be chased out wholly. this kept up until the reinforcements arrived on the run, wild with the lust for blood. then step by step the germans were pressed back, until in the end they lost their grip on the village.”
“after that the bombardment must have started in afresh, until the whole place was leveled as flat as a plain?” interposed jack, wishing[292] to get all the facts clearly in his mind, for future use in his letters to the paper he represented.
“just as you say, young m’sieu,” continued the burgomaster. “it was while the germans held part of the town that jacques found his great opportunity. two of the invaders discovered him there on the street amidst all that furious firing back and forth. they seized hold of the lad, and, i believe, threatened him with death if he did not reveal the place where his people were hiding with their valuables. the boy played his part well, and after making out that he was almost frightened to death agreed to lead them to our hiding place.”
“oh! he always claimed that he had a trap ready to spring!” exclaimed amos, who found himself intensely interested in the story. “did those two germans really fall into it, monsieur?”
“he must have acted his part wonderfully well,” said the old man proudly, for it must be remembered that the lad’s father was his own cousin. “he made them force him along; for in some manner he succeeded in lulling any suspicions[293] they may have had in the start. and, messieurs, in the end jacques, a belgian boy with a heart that beats only for his beloved country, managed to entrap those two pillagers, so that they are now prisoners in the hands of our forces.”
“but how could he do such a wonderful thing?” asked amos, not skeptically, for he fully believed every word the burgomaster spoke, but with a keen desire to know all the particulars.
“ah! we none of us understand as yet, for jacques has been too weak to explain,” the old man told them. “besides, something else has occurred to claim his attention. what we know is that after the british reclaimed the ruins of our poor village, and the germans had been beaten back as many as six times, on coming out from my hiding place to see what could be done for those who were lying by scores and hundreds around, i found the boy badly injured by a fragment of a bursting shell.
“he seemed feverish with but one desire, and that to tell where two german soldiers could be[294] found shut in a hole in the ground. i found a british officer who sent some of his men to the place, and it was as jacques had said. a great rock had been toppled over so as to fill in the gap, and this he must have learned some time ago could be hurled down with even a child’s puny strength. and that, young messieurs, was the trap jacques always hinted to us about, but at which we only smiled.”
“bully for little jacques!” exclaimed amos, carried away with boyish enthusiasm.
“when he saw the soldiers passing by with the two germans in their charge jacques, although in great pain, laughed in glee, for the one great hope of his life had been realized,” continued the burgomaster, “but even then he did not know what else there was waiting for him. as the story of his valor went around many of the british soldiers came here to see the belgian boy who had captured two big germans alone and unaided. we even had a general visit us, and tell the lad how proud he was that the sons of their allies should display such valor. but while[295] this may have pleased jacques there was something else coming that overwhelmed him with joy.”
jack started at hearing this. somehow he suddenly remembered that man in the stained uniform of a belgian soldier who was bending over the little figure of the boy hero, and one of whose arms seemed to be swathed in bandages.
“that soldier over there, who holds his hand on the head of jacques, and looks down at him so tenderly, is his father, supposed to have fallen at antwerp?” he asked.
“yes, it is as you say, young m’sieu; he lived, and has come to claim his boy!”
