第 11 页

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 principal

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 space

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 pass 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."

Upon leaving the quarters of the commandant, the boys went at once

to the house of a farmer a short distance from the village where,

the day before, they had noticed two boys of about their own size.

They explained to the farmer that they wanted to buy of him a suit

of the working clothes of each of his sons. Greatly surprised at

this request, the farmer had inquired what they could possibly want

them for; and Ralph--who thought it better not to trust him with

the secret--replied that, as the Prussian General had given notice

that he should shoot all franc tireurs he might take prisoners,

they wanted a suit of clothes, each, which they might slip on in

case of defeat or danger of capture. The pretense was a plausible

one; and the farmer sold them the required clothes, charging only

about twice their cost, when new.

The boys took the parcel and, instead of returning to the village

direct, they hid it carefully in a wood, at a short distance away.

They then returned and, in the afternoon, received detailed

instructions from Major Tempe.

It was arranged that the matter should be kept entirely secret,

lest any incautious word might be overheard and reported. They were

to start at daybreak, upon the following morning. Their cousins and

Tim Doyle being--alone--taken into their confidence, their friends

regretted much that they could not accompany them, and share their

danger. The boys pointed out however that--even could they have

spoken German fluently--they could not have gone with them as,

although two strangers would excite no attention, whatever, five

would be certain to do so.

The next morning they started together, as if for a walk. Upon

reaching the spot in the wood where the peasants' clothes were

hidden, the boys took off their uniforms--which were wrapped up,

and concealed in the same place--and put on the clothes. They

fitted fairly; and more than that was not necessary, as peasants'

clothes are seldom cut accurately to the figure. Rounding their

shoulders, and walking with a clumping sort of stride, no one would

have imagined that they were other than they pretended to be--two

awkward-looking young Alsatian lads.

They cut two heavy sticks, exchanged a hearty goodbye with their

friends, and started for Saverne. Two hours later they were walking

in its streets; staring into the shop windows, and at everything

that was going on, with the open-mouthed curiosity of two young

country lads. Then they made a few purchases--some coffee, sugar,

and pepper--tied them in a colored pocket handkerchief, and then

went into a small cabaret--where they saw some German soldiers

drinking--sat down at a table, and called for some bread and cheese

and beer.

While they were taking them, they listened to the conversation of

the soldiers. The only information that they gleaned from it was

that the men seemed to have no expectation, whatever, of any early

movement; and that they were heartily sick of the monotony of the

place, and the hard work of patrolling the line of railway, night

and day. Presently the soldiers paid for their beer, and left; and

some of the townspeople came in, and took the places they had left.

Their conversation, of course, turned on the Prussian occupation,

and deep were the curses heaped upon the invaders. The only thing

mentioned in their favor was the smallness of their number. There

were not over two hundred men; and this amount weighed but lightly

upon Saverne, compared with the fifty, sixty, or a hundred

quartered at every little village along the line of railway.

The boys had now learned what they most wanted to know and, paying

for their refreshment, went out again into the street. Then they

walked to the railway station--where they saw several soldiers, on

guard--and then set off to a point where they could see the

entrance to the tunnel. There two soldiers were on guard; while

others were stationed, at short distances, all along the line.

The boys now went up to a wood whence, unseen themselves, they

could watch the trains passing. They came along nearly every half

hour; immensely long trains, filled with stores of all kinds. As it

became dusk, they saw a body of Prussian soldiers marching down the

line; relieving the sentries, and placing fresh ones at distances

of little more than fifty yards apart. These marched backwards and

forwards, until they met each other; then returning, until they

faced their comrade at the other end of their beat.

"We can be off now, Percy," Ralph said, rising. "Our news is bad,

for it will be by no means so easy to cut the line as we had

expected. These weasels won't be very easily caught asleep."

"No, indeed," Percy said. "The idea of cutting the line sounded so

easy, when we were at a distance; but it is quite a different

matter, now we are here."

Upon their return they found--with some difficulty--the place where

they had hidden their uniforms; again changed clothes, and

then--carrying those they had just taken off, made up into

bundles--they re-entered the village, and went straight to

headquarters.

Major Tempe was at dinner with the other officers, and received

them with great pleasure; for he had been anxious, all day, lest

any misfortune might befall them. Finding that they had had nothing

to eat, since early in the morning, he at once invited them to sit

down to dinner; for military discipline is far less strict in these

matters, in France, than it is in England; and among the corps of

franc tireurs especially--as among the English volunteers, where

the private is in many cases equal to, or superior to, his officer

in social standing--the difference of rank is very much put aside,

except on duty.

"And you say that they have a sentinel at every fifty or sixty

yards, along the line?" Major Tempe said, when Ralph had given an

account of their day's investigation. "That appears, to me, to be

fatal to our plans."

"Why so?" Lieutenant de Maupas--who commanded the first

company--asked. "It seems to me that nothing could be easier.

Suppose we fell upon any given point, the sentries near it would be

at once killed, or made prisoners; and even allowing--as young

Barclay says--that there are troops in all the villages, it would

be a good half hour before a force, sufficient to disturb us, could

arrive."

"That is true enough," Major Tempe answered. "But what could we do,

in half an hour? We might pull up two hundred yards of rail. What

real advantage would be gained by that? The line of sentries along

the rail would, by firing their rifles, pass the news ten miles, in

half as many minutes; and the trains would be stopped long before

they arrived at the break. Each train carries, I know, workmen and

materials for repairing the line; and as it would be impossible for

us to carry away the rails, after pulling them up, they would be

replaced in as short a time as it took us to tear them up; and the

consequence would be that the traffic would only be suspended for

an hour or two, at most. For a break to be of any real utility,

whatever, it must last for days, if not for weeks.

"The great coup, of course, would be the destruction of the rock

tunnel of Saverne, which was the special object of our presence

here. Failing that, we must try a bridge. The tunnel, however, is