Henty George Alfred
The Young Franc Tireurs, and Their Adventures in the Franco-Prussian War
Chapter 7: A Baffled Project
Before leaving the headquarters of the commandant, the young Barclays asked if he wished that they should continue to keep silence upon the subject of their expedition. The commandant replied that he did not see that it could do any harm, provided that they impressed upon their comrades the necessity of maintaining an absolute silence upon the subject, when any of the people of the neighborhood were present. Although the villagers might appear to understand no language but German, they might yet know enough French to glean what was said and, if traitorously inclined, to warn the Germans, and thus enormously increase the danger when the Barclays should again go down to the town.
Their cousins had already heard of their return; for the boys, upon sitting down to dinner at the commandant's, had requested leave to send a line to their cousins, who would be anxiously expecting them.
"Hallo! You Barclay, where have you been to, all day?" was the general exclamation, as they entered.
"On duty," Ralph said.
"On duty–yes, but what duty? The Duburgs have been mysterious, and would say nothing. The sergeant here knew nothing about it, except that our lieutenant told him that you had leave; and Irish Tim has been hanging about all day, as restless as a cow that has lost its calf."
"We have been down to Saverne," Ralph said.
There was a general exclamation of astonishment. Those of the men who had already lain down upon their straw for the night sat up again, and all crowded round to hear Ralph's story, which he at once told at length; and which, when finished, gave rise here–as it had done at the officers' table–to an animated discussion. Several of the men shook hands warmly with the Barclays, congratulating them on their offer to undertake this dangerous service, and upon the valuable–though unfavorable–information which they had obtained.
From this time forward, the men ceased to attempt to pass jokes at the expense of any of the boys. When the corps was first raised, many of the young men had been inclined to protest against boys being accepted, when the list could have been readily filled with men but, by this time, the boys had proved that they were quite as capable of supporting fatigue as were the men. They had behaved equally well in action; and now the enterprise of the Barclays testified to the fact that, in a dangerous expedition requiring coolness, presence of mind, and nerve, they were equally to be relied upon. Henceforward there was no distinction, or difference, between the various members of the corps.
Another four days passed and–as the ex-officer of Engineers could suggest no certain plan, for the destruction of the tunnel, which could be carried out in the time which a surprise of the sentries at its mouth would give them–Major Tempe resolved upon delaying no longer; but on sending four men into the tunnel, under Lieutenant Ribouville, with instructions to go as far as they could in a quarter of an hour, to set down the barrels against the rock, to light a fuse cut to burn a quarter of an hour, and then to return at full speed to the mouth of the tunnel.
One company was to seize the other end, to tear up seven, eight, or ten rails, and to retire at once into the woods; as the delay in getting the rails into their places again would prevent any train entering, from that end, in time for its occupants to see and extinguish the burning fuse.
The other company–which was absent–was to join the headquarters, the evening before the attempt; and it was hoped that the three companies would be able to keep the enemy at bay for half an hour, so as to give time to the party with the nitroglycerine to take it to the required position, and rejoin their comrades. Immediately upon their doing so the retreat was to commence; as the enemy could not possibly penetrate the tunnel, and extinguish the fuse, before the explosion took place.
The attempt was not to be made till the following evening; in order that the Barclays might go down, and see that all was as before at Saverne, and along the line. The next day, accordingly, the boys again put on their disguises and started; as before, taking the precaution to change in the wood, so as not to be seen by any of the villagers. Upon reaching the spot from which a view of the tunnel was obtainable, they stopped, with a simultaneous exclamation of dismay. Not only were two sentries stationed near the entrance; but some fifteen or twenty German soldiers were sitting or standing by a small building, at a short distance, which had evidently been turned into a guard house.
"This looks very much against us, Ralph. One would think that they had got information of our being near."
"It looks bad, indeed, Percy. Let us go on into the town. We shall, perhaps, learn something about it, there."
A sharp walk soon brought them to Saverne. A sentry was on duty at the entrance to the town, and several of his comrades stood near. The sentry looked as if about to stop them; but seeing, when they came up, that they were only boys, he let them pass without question.
"Worse and worse, Percy. Something is up, sure enough."
This became more evident at every step they took, for the little town was absolutely crowded with German soldiers.
"Unless they are merely halting here, upon their march through, it is all up with our plan, Percy. There must be over two thousand men here, at the very least."
Upon questioning a lad of the town, of about their own age, they found that the fresh troops had arrived upon the preceding day; the infantry–two thousand strong–coming in by train, late in the evening before; and three hundred cavalry marched in, only half an hour before the boys' arrival. They were all quartered upon the inhabitants, and there appeared to be no sign of their early departure.
For some time the boys walked about, without obtaining any information; although they entered a dozen cabarets, and drank considerable quantities of beer. At last, before one of the principal cafes, they saw ten or twelve German officers sitting, talking. None of the inhabitants were sitting at the cafe; and the boys dared not go in to ask for anything, there, as it would not have been in accordance with their appearance.
"How are we to get within hearing, Percy?"
"Look here, Ralph; I will limp along, as if I had something in my shoe which hurts me. Then I will sit down on a doorstep, close to them, and take off my boot. You can sit down, too, and take some of the bread and cheese which we put in our pockets, because we could not eat it at the last place we went in. I will keep my boot off, to ease my foot; and we can eat our bread and cheese, as slowly as we like."
"That will do capitally, Percy."
In another couple of minutes the two lads were sitting, as agreed, upon the step of a door close to the cafe. They could not hear all that was said; but could catch the sense, as the German officers–as is their custom–spoke in a very loud voice. They belonged to the infantry; and were, it appeared, in ignorance of the reason of their sudden move to Saverne.
Presently a captain of the cavalry came along the street.
"Ah, Von Rausen," a major in the infantry exclaimed, "are you here? I have not seen you since the day you marched from Coblentz."
"No, indeed, major," the other said, saluting–as a Prussian officer always does, to his superior in rank–the other infantry officers all rising, and saluting in turn. "We have just come in from Hagenau."
"Are you in a hurry?" asked the major. "If not, sit down and let us talk."
The cavalry officer accepted the invitation and, for a few minutes, their talk ran upon mutual friends. Then the major said:
"By the way, do you know what we are here for? We were bustled off at a moment's notice; no one knows why, except of course the colonel, and he has not thought necessary to tell us and, naturally, we have not asked him."
"Do you not know?" Captain Von Rausen said. "It is no secret–at least, no secret from us, but a secret from the people here. I will speak in French; no doubt there are plenty of spies about."
"There is no one in hearing," the major said, "except those two stupid-looking lads, munching bread and cheese."
"The more likely to be spies," Von Rausen said. "Fellows who look like fools are just the people chosen."
"Well, speak in English then, Von Rausen," the major said; "we both understand it, and we should be safe, then, if all Saverne were listening."
"Yes, that will be safe.
"Well, then, the general received information, yesterday, that that corps of franc tireurs who cut up our cavalry near Blamont, the other day, are hid up in some village in the woods, four or five miles from here; no doubt with the intention of making an attempt to blow up the tunnel. The idea is a daring one and, if the plan had succeeded, it would have done us incalculable harm. As it is, we are safe; and tomorrow night we shall, I believe, make an expedition, and sweep the woods clear of these troublesome gentry.
"These franc tireurs will be mischievous if we do not give them a sharp lesson. The general's proclamation gave notice that every one of them taken would be shot, and our colonel is just the man to carry out the order."
"This is indeed important," the major said. "But how did we get the information? Is it certain?"
"Quite certain. A scoundrel of a schoolmaster at Grunsdorf–a village somewhere up in the woods–turned traitor; and sent a letter to the general, bargaining that he should be taken on as a spy, at some fabulous salary, and offering to begin by leading the troops to the village where these franc tireurs are hidden."
"An infamous scoundrel!" the major said warmly. "Of course, one cannot refuse to deal with traitors, when the information is of importance; but one longs to put a pistol bullet into them. Badly as the French have come out in many particulars, since the war began, there is not one which gives me such a mean idea of them as the number of offers which have been sent in to supply information, and betray their countrymen."
"Put on your boots, Percy," Ralph said, in a low voice. "It is time for us to be off. Don't hurry; and above all, if they should take it into their heads to address us suddenly in French, or English, don't start or seem to notice."
The major was, however, so absorbed in the information he had received–and so confident that the English, in which it had been told, would be unintelligible to anyone who might overhear it–that he paid no attention to the boys who–one of them limping badly–went slowly down the street; stopping, occasionally, to look in at the shop windows. It was not until they were fairly outside the town, and out of sight of the German sentries, that they either spoke or quickened their pace.
"The franc tireurs of Dijon may thank their lucky stars that they sent down spies to Saverne today, Percy; and especially that we, of all the members of the corps, were selected. If we had not been where we were, just at that moment, and if we had not understood English, it would have been all up with the corps, and no mistake."
"What an infamous scoundrel, as the major said, that schoolmaster must be, Ralph! What do you think the commandant will do?"
"He has nothing to do but to retreat, as quickly as we can go, Percy; but if it costs him half the corps, I hope he will hang that schoolmaster, before he goes."
"I hope so, too," Percy said; and scarcely another word was spoken, until they reached the village.
It was still early, scarcely two o'clock, and Major Tempe was drilling the whole corps–the two detached companies having arrived that morning–when the boys, having again put on uniform, approached him.
Major Tempe nodded to them, as they came up.
"You are back early," he said. "You are excused from drill. I will see you at my quarters, when it is over."
"If you please, major," Ralph said, respectfully, "you had better dismiss the men, at once. We have news of the highest importance to tell you."
The major looked surprised but, seeing by the boys' faces that the news was very serious, he at once dismissed the men; telling them to keep near, as they might be wanted. Then, calling his officers, he proceeded at once with the Barclays towards his quarters.
"Excuse me, major," Ralph said, "but instead of going to your quarters, would you move to some open space, where we can speak without a possibility of being overheard by anyone?"
Still more surprised, Major Tempe led the way to some felled trees at the edge of the forest, a short distance from the village. Here he sat down, and motioned to the others to do the same. Ralph then told his story, interrupted many times by exclamations of rage, upon the part of his auditors; and giving full credit to Percy for his idea of the plan by which, unnoticed, they had managed to get within hearing of the German officers. The fury of the French officers knew no bounds. They gesticulated, they stamped up and down, they swore terribly, they were ready to cry from sheer rage.
Major Tempe, alone, uttered no remark during the whole narration. When it was concluded, he sat silent for a minute or two; with his lips pressed together, and a look of deep indignation on his face. Then he rose, and said in a solemn tone:
"As sure as the sun shines, and as sure as my name is Edward Tempe, so sure shall that schoolmaster, of Grunsdorf, be hung before tomorrow morning!
"Lieutenant Ribouville, order the assembly to be sounded, and form the men here in hollow square.
"Messieurs Barclay, you will fall in with your company."
A little surprised–and hurt that the commandant had said no word of commendation to them, for the service they had performed–the boys hurried off to their quarters, to get their rifles.
"Sure, Master Ralph, and what is the matter, at all?" Tim Doyle said, as they entered. "Sure the major, honest man, must have gone off his head, entirely! Scarcely had we finished our male, and began to smoke the first pipe in aise and comfort, when the bugle blows for parade.
"'Confound the bugle!' says I, and I shoved me pipe aside, and put on my belt and fell in.
"Hardly had we begun the maneuvers when your honors arrived and said a word, private, to the major. The words weren't out of your mouth before he dismisses us from drill.
"'Botheration!' says I, 'is there no pace for the wicked?'
"Back I comes again, and takes off me belt and piles me firelock; and before I had got three draws at me pipe, and was just beginning to enjoy the creetur when, crack! and there goes the assimbly again. Sure and the major, honest man, has lost his head entirely; and it's a pity, for he is an illegant man, and a good officer, says I."
"Come along, Tim," Ralph said, laughing, "else you'll be late for parade. You will hear all about it in time, I have no doubt."
In five minutes the men were all assembled in a hollow square, two deep, facing the officers in the center The men saw at once, by the faces of Major Tempe and the officers, that something very serious had happened; and they had no sooner taken their places than there was a deep hush of expectancy, for it was evident that the commandant was about to address them.
"My men," he said, after a pause of a minute or two, "a great calamity has happened; and a still greater one would have happened, had we not providentially received warning in time. It had been resolved–as you would have heard this evening, had all gone well–that tonight we should attack the German sentries, and blow up the rock tunnel of Saverne. The affair would have been hot, but it would have been a vital service to France; and the franc tireurs of Dijon would have merited, and obtained, the thanks of all France. It was for the purpose of the attack that the two companies detached from us were recalled.
"All promised well for success. Two of your number had been down into Saverne, in disguise, and had brought us full information respecting the force and disposition of the enemy. All was prepared, the chance of success favorable, and the force the enemy could have brought against us was no larger than our own. We should have saved France, and immortalized ourselves.
"At the present moment there are two thousand five hundred men in Saverne. Tomorrow night this village is to be attacked, and every franc tireur found here put to the sword."
A cry of surprise and rage broke from the men.
"And how, think you, has the change been wrought? By treachery!"
Those cries of rage were renewed.
"By treachery! A Frenchman has been found, base and vile enough to sell us to Prussia. All hope of success is over, and we have only to retreat."
"Who is he? Who is he?" burst from the infuriated men. "Death to the traitor! Death to the traitor!"
"Yes, men, death to the traitor!" the major said, solemnly. "It is the schoolmaster of Grunsdorf who has sold you to the Prussians; who wrote that letter to their general, telling him of your intentions, which has caused these great reinforcements to be sent; and who has offered to guide a force to surround us, tomorrow night."
Another low cry of horror and indignation broke from the men.
"Is it your opinion that this man has deserved death?"
"Yes," was the unanimous answer.
"Then he dies," Major Tempe said, solemnly. "You were to have been his victims; you are his judges.
"Grunsdorf is three miles from here, in the woods, not far from Saverne. A party will be told off, presently, who will be charged with the execution of this sentence.
"I have now another duty. The corps has been saved from destruction. You–all of us–have been preserved from death by the intelligence and courage of two of your number.
"Ralph and Percy Barclay, stand forward!"
The two boys stepped two paces forward into the hollow square.
"Selected by me," continued Major Tempe, "for the duty, from their perfect acquaintance with German; they, upon their first visit to Saverne, obtained all the information required. Upon their second visit, this morning–finding the enemy had been immensely reinforced–they perceived the extreme importance of discovering the reason for the arrival of the reinforcements, and their intention. With a coolness and tact which does them the greatest credit, they contrived to arrive, and to remain within hearing of, a number of officers; and then learned the whole particulars of the treachery of this man, and of the intention of our enemies. So important was the secret judged that the Germans were afraid of telling it in German, or in French, lest they might be overheard. To prevent the possibility of this, they conversed in English; and the consequence is that we are saved, almost by a miracle.
"Ralph and Percy Barclay, your names will be inserted in the order of the day, being the first of the corps to whom that honor has been given; and I hereby offer you, in the name of myself, my officers, and the whole corps, my hearty thanks for your courage, coolness, and devotion.
"The parade is dismissed. The men will assemble at five o'clock, in full marching order, with all necessaries and accouterments."
As Major Tempe ceased speaking, the men broke up from the order in which they had been standing, and crowded round the young Barclays; shaking them by the hand, patting them on the shoulder, and congratulating them heartily upon the service that they had rendered, and upon the terms in which their commandant had thus publicly acknowledged it.
At five o'clock the corps assembled again in heavy marching order and, after inspection, the second, third, and fourth companies marched off; with their officers, who alone knew their destination, at their head. Major Tempe remained on the ground, with the first company. After waiting for a few minutes, they were marched off in the direction which the others had taken but–after getting out of sight of the village, and fairly entering the forest–they turned sharp off, and took the direction of Saverne.
Chapter 8: The Traitor
After the company had marched for half an hour, a halt was called, and their commandant said:
"I daresay you have all guessed the object which we have in view. We are going to carry out the sentence pronounced by the whole corps. We are going to have that schoolmaster–that traitor–who has sold our lives to the Prussians; and who–which is of infinitely greater importance–has done immense injury to France, by betraying our intention of blowing up the tunnel. That traitor I intend to have, tonight; and if I have him, I will hang him, as sure as fate.
"This lane which we are following leads to Grunsdorf; which, according to the information I collected before leaving, cannot be above a mile distant. Now, we must be cautious. It is quite possible that a detachment of the enemy may have been sent up to the village, and in that case we might catch a Tartar. Even if there are no Germans there, we must be cautious, or the bird will escape. We neither know him, nor the house he lives in and–as he would naturally guess that his treachery had been discovered, and that we had come for him–he would slip out into the forest, the instant he saw the first bayonet approaching. It is essential, therefore, that we should obtain accurate information of the state of affairs, and of the position of this traitor's house.
"In another half hour it will be dusk. The Barclays have again volunteered to go in, and find out what we require. They will go on at once; and in an hour we will follow, and remain concealed, just outside the village, until they return.
"Sergeant, you will go forward with them, and agree upon the place where we shall remain hid, until they join us.
"Now, my lads, you have already received your instructions. Change your things, and go forward at once."
The distance was farther than they had expected, and it was nearly dark before the boys entered Grunsdorf. There was no one moving in the quiet village, for a fine rain was falling as the boys walked slowly along.
"There is no one to ask, Percy. We must go into the public house, as arranged, and ask where the priest's house is. It would not do for two strangers to ask for the schoolmaster. The priest will tell us where he lives."
So saying, they entered the little cabaret, walked down a long passage leading from the door, and paused for a moment at the threshold–for in the room were some eight or ten Prussian soldiers.
"It is too late to retreat, Percy. Come in boldly."
Lifting their caps, they walked up to an unoccupied table; and called for some bread, cheese, and beer. The landlord brought the refreshments, and the boys had scarcely begun to eat when a Prussian sergeant–who had exchanged a word with the landlord, evidently in reference to them–strode up to them and, laying his hand upon Ralph's shoulder, said:
"Who are you, young fellows? The landlord says you do not belong to the village."
"We belong to a party of woodcutters, from Colmar," Ralph said, quietly.
"Oh, indeed!" the sergeant said, in an incredulous voice, "and where are your party?"
"Out in the forest, at the place where we have begun to fell trees," Ralph said.
"But people do not come to cut wood without horses, or carts to take it away," the sergeant persisted.
"They are up in the forest with our father," Ralph said.
"Have you heard anything about this party?" the sergeant asked the landlord.
The man hesitated a moment. He evidently suspected, also, that the boys might belong to the franc tireurs; and was anxious to say nothing which could harm them.
"No," he said, after a pause, "I can't say that I have heard of them; but I know some of the forest was sold, not long ago, and they might have come from Colmar without coming this way."
"We only arrived this morning," Percy said, quietly, "so that you could hardly have heard of us, unless some of the people of your place happened to pass, when we were at work; and we have not seen anyone, all day."
"At any rate," the sergeant said, "I shall see if your story be true, and you will at once take us to the place.
"Corporal, get ten men in readiness."
"Certainly," Ralph said, "if you will allow us to finish our supper, we will show you the way, at once."
The sergeant nodded, and resumed his seat.
"Look here, Percy," Ralph said, quietly, "we are in a nasty fix, this time. There is only one thing to be done, that I can see. If we both go they will shoot us, to a certainty; for although one might make a bolt in the wood, it is certain we could not both get away.
"Only one thing is to be done. I will say your foot is bad, and ask for you to stay here. Directly we have gone, you slip out and go–as hard as you can–to the place where our men are hid. I will bring them in that direction. We shall have passed the place before you can reach it–at least, unless you can get out, at once–and pass on in the darkness. Take off your shoes, so as to run lightly. As we pass, fire a volley right into us; and I will make a dart into the wood, in the confusion."
"But you might be shot by our men, Ralph. They could not possibly distinguish you, in the dark. No, I will go with the men, and you make your way to Tempe."
"No, no, Percy, I won't have that."
"Very well," Percy said, doggedly, "then we will go together."
There was a silence for a minute or two, and then Ralph said:
"Look here, Percy, this is madness; however, as you won't do as I tell you, we will draw lots. I will put a piece of crumb in one of my hands. You shall guess which it is in. If you guess right, I will go with the Germans. If you guess wrong, you shall go."
"Very well," Percy said; "I agree to that."
Ralph then broke off a small piece of bread, and put it in one of his hands–having already, before he made the proposition, broken off a similar piece, unobserved by Percy. He then put both hands under the table, and then lifted them again; all the time trying to appear not to be engaged upon anything out of the way, as he knew that some of the Germans were watching them.
"Left," Percy said.
Ralph replied by opening the left hand, and dropping the piece of bread on the table; at the same time putting his right hand back into his pocket, as if to get out his handkerchief–and dropping, as he did so, the piece of bread it contained into the place.
"There, Percy, fortune has decided it.
"Goodbye; God bless you. I daresay I shall get out of it but, if not, give my love to them all, at home."
Then he finished his beer and rose, without giving Percy time to reply, even could he have done so; but the lad was so much choked, with the effort to keep from crying, that he could not have spoken. Ralph turned to the sergeant and–stretching his arms, with the natural air of a tired boy, objecting to be disturbed–said:
"Now, sir, I am ready to start. I suppose there is no occasion for us both to go, for my brother has hurt his foot. We shouldn't have come in, tonight; but it is his first time out with the woodmen, and he is not accustomed to sleeping out, in the wet."
"Yes, one is enough. He can stay," the sergeant said.
"You had better ask the landlord to show you a corner, where you can sleep on the straw, Karl," Ralph said. "It is no use waiting for me. I shall be back in an hour."
With a nod to Percy, Ralph now walked steadily to the door. The sergeant, with the men told off for the duty, accompanied him. When they reached the street, it was raining heavily.
"I wonder," Ralph said, "whether the landlord would lend me a sack, to put on my shoulders."
"Is this place far off, youngster?" the sergeant asked, peering out into the darkness.
Ralph's heart gave a jump; for he detected, in the tone, a certain hesitation as to taking the men out in such a night, upon such slight suspicion. He was, however, too shrewd to show any desire to dissuade the sergeant from it, so he replied:
"No, it is no distance to speak of; not a mile, at most. We should be there and back in half an hour, if it was light; but there is only a path among the woods and it is dark.
"I think we had better have some lanterns, for I do not think I could find my way without them, tonight; at any rate, it would take us much longer."
"There, boy, that will do," the sergeant said, laying his hand on his shoulder. "I am satisfied, now, with the truth of your story. I thought, for a bit, you had something to do with the franc tireurs who are about here, but I see I was mistaken.
"Turn in again, lads. It is no use taking you out on a useless search, such a night as this, among these forests."
Ralph laughed aloud, as they turned to go down the passage again to the corner.
"Won't father laugh," he said, "when he hears that you thought I was a franc tireur. We haven't seen any, about Colmar. I don't think you need be afraid of them, if they ain't bigger or older than I am."
By this time they had entered the room again, and Ralph saw that Percy was already talking to the landlord–with whom, indeed, he was on the point of leaving the room. He turned round, upon hearing the party come in again, and gave a slight start of pleasure.
"I am soon back, Karl, and am glad that it is so for, frankly, I too am tired; and it is not a night for a dog to be out. I will go in with you."
"Stay, landlord," the sergeant said. "Give the boys another glass, each, before they go off."
"Thank you," Ralph said. "A glass of good beer never comes amiss."
The boys stopped, while the landlord filled their glasses.
"Now," said the sergeant, raising his arm. "Here's a health, to King William."
"Here's a health, to King William," Ralph repeated. "I am sure I wish him no harm.
"And now, with your permission, I will be off."
The landlord led them to an outhouse, in which were some trusses of straw. Just as he was about to leave them, Ralph said, suddenly:
"Ah! I had nearly forgotten about the priest. You have a priest here, have you not?"
"Of course," the landlord said. "Do you take us for heathens?"
"Not at all," Ralph said, apologetically; "but father told me to call, and pay him for some masses. My eldest sister was very ill, when we came away, and father worries about her.
