第 16 页

town situated on the Breuche; a little river which, winding round

by Molsheim, falls into the Rhine at Strasburg. A branch line of

railroad terminates at this place.

When they arrived within three miles of it, they turned off to the

right--for Wasselonne had frequently been visited by the

Prussians--and slept at the little village of Casswiller, at the

edge of the forest of OEdenwald. Another day's short, but weary,

marching over the mountains brought them to the village of Still;

lying high upon the western slope of the Vosges, above Mutzig.

From this point they had a splendid view over the valley of the

Rhine. From their feet, at Mutzig, the railway ran through Molsheim

straight across the country to Strasburg; the beautiful spire of

whose cathedral rose above the flats, at a distance of about

fifteen miles. The day happened to be a quiet one, and the deep

booming of the guns of the besiegers could be distinctly heard. The

inhabitants reported that the German troops patrolled the whole

valley, pushing sometimes down to the walls of Schlestadt, levying

contributions and carrying off cattle.

The village was very poor, and was able to furnish little

accommodation in the way of quarters, still less in that of food.

Six of the villagers were, therefore, sent through the forest of

OEdenwald to Raon; with an order to fetch over two oxen, and thirty

sheep, of those left there in charge of the head man of the

village. They returned in three days, Raon being only about fifteen

miles east of Still.

The corps was now broken up into its four companies; who were

stationed in the villages on the Vosges, and at the edge of the

forest of Trieswald and Bar--the first company remaining at Still.

From these villages they commanded a view over the whole plain; and

could, with the aid of glasses, distinctly see any bodies of men

going south from Strasburg. Each company was to act independently

of the other, uniting their forces only when ordered to do so by

Major Tempe; who took up his headquarters with the second company,

that having the most central position. Each company was to keep a

sharp watch over the country, to attack any body of the enemy not

superior to themselves in force, and to cut off, if possible, any

small parties pillaging in the villages of the valley, near the

foot of the mountains.

The first company--under their lieutenant, De Maupas--turned their

special attention to Mutzig; which was not, they learned, actually

occupied by the Germans, but which was frequently visited by

parties from Molsheim, where a portion of the army of the besiegers

was stationed. The young Barclays, their cousins, and Tim Doyle

were quartered together, in one of the largest houses in the

village; and from thence a fine view over the plain was attainable.

They were not destined to remain long in inactivity. Upon the

fourth day after their arrival, they saw a party of some twenty

horsemen approaching Mutzig. In five minutes every man had

assembled and, at once, rapidly marched down the hill; taking

advantage of its irregularities, so as to follow a track in which

they would be invisible from the road. Making a long detour, they

gained the road about half a mile beyond Mutzig and, posting

themselves among some trees by its side, awaited the return of the

Uhlans.

It was upwards of two hours before they returned. They were

laughing, and singing; and the boys felt a sensation of repugnance,

as they raised their rifles to their shoulders, and awaited the

order to fire into their unsuspecting foes. They had not, as yet,

become hardened to the horrors of war. As the word was given, the

rifles flashed out; and six of the horsemen fell. The rest, putting

spurs to their horses, galloped furiously away. Molsheim was so

close--and the enemy might come back again, largely reinforced, in

so short a time--that the order was given to retreat, at once.

Reaching the hill and looking back, an hour later, they saw a dark

mass coming from Molsheim; and the glasses soon made them out to be

about a hundred cavalry, and as many infantry. It was dark as they

entered Mutzig and--although it was not probable that they would

ascend the hill, at night--sentries were thrown out, far down its

sides, to give the alarm; and the men were ordered to hold

themselves in readiness for an immediate retreat to the forest. It

happened that none of the boys were on duty and, just as they were

sitting down to dinner, Tim--who had been out to fetch some

wood--came running in.

"Heavenly Mother! The brutes are setting fire to Mutzig, your

honor."

The boys ran out. Below, a mass of red flame was rising; and it was

evident that several houses were in flames. The sight was a grand one,

for the light showed the outline of the slopes of the hills and,

reflected on the roofs of the houses of the little town, made them

look as if red hot. Out upon the plain, round Molsheim, were the

scattered lights of innumerable camp fires while, in the distance,

flickering flashes--like the play of summer lightning--told of the

ceaseless rain of fire kept up upon the unhappy town of Strasburg.

"What a shame!" Percy said, indignantly; "as if the inhabitants of

Mutzig could help our attacking the Uhlans.

"Look, Ralph, there are six distinct fires."

"I suppose that is one for each man we killed or wounded, Percy.

You may be sure they will make them pay, too. Thirty thousand

francs, I should think, at least.

"War used to be looked upon as a chivalrous proceeding. There is no

romance in German warfare. They call us a nation of shopkeepers;

they make war, themselves, in the spirit of a nation of petty

hucksterers."

"What do you think of that, lads?" Lieutenant de Maupas said,

coming up to where they were standing.

"It is shameful, sir, shameful," Ralph said.

"Yes," the officer said, gloomily. "This is to make war as the

Vandals made it, not as it is made in the nineteenth century. In

the Crimea, in Italy--ay, even in China--we did not make war in

this way. In China we burnt the Emperor's summer palace, because

his soldiers had murdered our prisoners in cold blood, but we did

not burn a single village."

"No," Ralph said; "and I have read that, in Abyssinia, we never as

much as took a fowl or a bundle of grass from the natives, without

paying for it; and we only burned the fortress of Magdala after

offering it, in succession, to the various kings of the country;

and destroyed it, at last, to prevent it becoming a stronghold of

the Gallas--the enemies of Abyssinia.

"Don't you think," he asked, after a pause, "we shall have fighting

tomorrow, sir?"

"I think it very likely, indeed," the lieutenant said. "I have just

sent off a messenger to the commandant, with a full report; and

asked him to send over a reply whether he will come to our

assistance, or if we are to fall back."

"Faith, and I hope that it's not falling back we'll be, till after

we've had the satisfaction of spaking to them a bit," Tim Doyle put

in. "Barring the little affair of today--which isn't worth

mentioning--I haven't had a chance of a scrimmage since I joined

the corps. It's been jist marching and counter-marching, over the

most onraisonable country; nothing but up hill and down hill and

through trees, with big stones breaking our poor feet into pieces,

and the rain running down us fit to give us the ague.

"Sure, lieutenant, ye won't be for marching us away, till we've had

a little divarshin?"

The boys all laughed at Tim's complaint, which had been delivered

in English; for although he could now understand French, he never

attempted to speak it, except to ask some necessary question. Percy

translated it to the lieutenant.

"You will have fighting enough, before you have done, Tim. Whether

you will have it tomorrow, I don't know. There are a hundred

infantry--they can't use their cavalry--and we are only twenty-six

men, all told. Fortunately, we have a strong line of retreat; or I

should not even wait for the chance of being attacked."

"At any rate, you think that we are safe until morning, sir?"

"Yes, I think so," the lieutenant said.

"Then we will go in to our dinner," Ralph said. "Who knows where we

may dine, tomorrow?"

Day was just beginning to break, when Percy Barclay started up in

his bed. He listened for an instant, and heard the crack of a

rifle.

"Up, Ralph; up all of you!" he shouted. "We are attacked."

The others were on their feet in an instant. None of them had

thought of undressing and, as they seized their arms and

equipments, the whistle of Lieutenant de Maupas sounded loud and

shrill. As they issued out there was, already, a scene of bustle

and confusion in the village. The franc tireurs were rushing from

the doors. The villagers were also pouring out, women screaming and

men swearing.

"You had better drive off your animals up into the forest, and

carry off whatever you can of value, and send the women and

children off, at once," De Maupas shouted, to the head man of the

village. "We will give you as much time as we can but, if they are

in full strength, it will not be long.

"Now, lads, forward! Don't throw away a shot. Take advantage of

every possible cover, and fall back as slowly and steadily as you

can. The commandant will be here, with the second company, in half

an hour. I had a message from him, late last night."

The men advanced at once, at the double, and in an instant had a

view of what was going on. The six men out, as sentries, were

falling back rapidly towards the village; and two dark bodies of

infantry were approaching, abreast of each other, but at a distance

of two or three hundred yards apart. They were some five hundred

yards beyond the retreating sentries; who were, themselves, a few

hundred yards below the village. The enemy had, at present, made no

reply whatever to the fire of the sentries.

"Advance slowly, in skirmishing order," De Maupas said. "One flank

of the company oppose each column. Open fire at once, sight for

seven hundred yards, take advantage of cover, and fire steadily."

A steady fire was at once opened and, although its effects could

not be perceived, they were evidently sensible; for the columns

immediately threw out half their strength, as skirmishers, and

opened fire. In a hundred paces De Maupas halted his men, and told

them to lie down behind shelter.

The enemy were now five hundred yards off, and the franc tireurs

had been joined by the sentries. The numbers were four to one and,

although the position was of considerable advantage to the smaller

force--as well as the fact that they were lying quiet, in shelter,

while their adversaries had to fire as they advanced--the odds were

far too great to hope for success. Every moment, however, it was

getting lighter; and the franc tireurs could see that their fire

was doing considerable execution, whereas only two of their men had

received slight wounds. The enemy, however, pushed on steadily; and

were now little more than three hundred yards distant.

"Fall back," the lieutenant shouted; "six men, alternately, of each

half company. Back fifty paces, at the double!"

At the word, twelve men retreated, at full speed, for fifty yards;

the others redoubling the fire from their breechloaders, to cover

the retreat. The instant that the first men had gone fifty yards,

they turned, threw themselves upon the ground, and opened fire;

while those in front ran back at full speed, passed them, and

halted, in turn, fifty paces in the rear. The maneuver was repeated

three times, and they then gained the end house of the village.

Under shelter of a low wall, another stand was made; but the

superior force of the enemy enabled them to threaten to outflank

them. Many of the Germans had fallen; but the rest advanced, with

as much coolness and precision as if on parade.

"How beautifully these fellows do fight!" Ralph exclaimed, in

admiration.

"Now, lads, we must retreat," the lieutenant said. "We have done

very well. Now, across the village, and then make for the forest as

hard as you can. It's not over five hundred yards. When you are

once there, make a stand again."

The men turned and, in another moment, would have carried out the

order when--from a house in a line with them, but about fifty yards

off--a heavy fire of musketry suddenly broke out.

"Hurrah, lads, there's the commandant! Stand to your wall; we'll

thrash them, yet."

Staggered by this sudden and heavy fire, the Germans paused; and

then fell back, to a spot where a dip in the ground sheltered them

from the fire from above. For a short time, there was a cessation

of the fight. At this moment, the commandant joined the first

company.

"Well done, indeed!" he exclaimed. "Gallantly done, lads! We heard

the firing, and feared you would be crushed before we could get up.

It is fortunate I started half an hour before daybreak. We have

done the last two miles at a run.

"Have you suffered much?"

There was a general look round. Four men had fallen, in the

retreat. Another lay dead, shot through the head as he fired over

the wall. Four others were wounded; three seriously, while Ralph

Barclay had a ball through the fleshy part of his arm.

"Fortunately," Major Tempe said, "half a dozen men from the other

village volunteered to come over to help the wounded. I will send

them over here, at once. They can take some doors off their hinges,

and carry these three men right back into the forest, at once. We

have not done yet.

"Get your men into skirmishing line, De Maupas. I will form mine to

join you. Occupy the line of gardens, and walls."

Scarcely was the movement effected, when the Germans again appeared