The Forest of Swords: A Story of Paris and the Marne by Joseph A. Altsheler (i like reading TXT) 📖

"Because the fire on both flanks is slowly moving eastward, that is, the Germans there are yielding ground. My ears, trained to note such things, tell me so. My friend, I am not mistaken."

He spoke gravely, without exultation, but John took fresh hope from his words. Toward night the fire in their front died somewhat, and after sunset it sank lower, but they still heard a prodigious volume of firing on both flanks. John remembered then that they had eaten nothing since morning, but when some of the prisoners who spoke German requested food it was served to them.

Night came over what seemed to be a drawn battle at this point, and after eating his brief supper John saw the automobiles and stretchers bringing in the wounded. They passed him in thousands and thousands, hurt in every conceivable manner. At first he could scarcely bear to look at them, but it was astonishing how soon one hardened to such sights.

The wounded were being carried to improvised hospitals in the rear, but so far as John knew the dead were left on the field. The Germans with their usual thorough system worked rapidly and smoothly, but he noticed that the fires were but very few. There was but little light in the wood of Sénouart or the hills beyond, and there was little, too, on the ridges that marked the French position.

John kept near the edges of the space allotted to the prisoners, hoping that he might again see von Arnheim. He had discovered early that the Germans were unusually kind to Americans, and the fact that he had been taken fighting against them did not prevent them from showing generous treatment. The officer in charge of the guard even wanted to talk to him about the war and prove to him how jealousy had caused the other nations to set upon Germany. But John evaded him and continued to look for the young prince who was serving as a mere lieutenant.

It was about an hour after dark when he caught his first glimpse of von Arnheim, and he was really glad to see that he was not wounded.

"I've come to tell you, Mr. Scott," said von Arnheim, "that all of you must march at once. You will cross the Marne, and then pass as prisoners into Germany. You will be well treated there and I think you can probably secure your release on condition that you return to your own country and take no further part in the war."

John shook his head.

"I don't expect any harshness from the Germans," he said, "but I'm in this war to stay, if the bullets and shells will let me. I warn you now that I'm going to escape."

Von Arnheim laughed pleasantly.

"It's fair of you to give us warning of your intentions," he said, "but I don't think you'll have much chance. You must get ready to start at once."

"I take it," said John, "that our departure means the departure of the German army also."

Von Arnheim opened his mouth to speak, but he closed it again suddenly.

"It's only a deduction of mine," said John.

Von Arnheim nodded in farewell and hurried away.

"Now I'm sure," said John to Fleury a few minutes later, "that this army is going to withdraw."

"I think so too," said Fleury. "I can yet hear the fire of the cannon on either flank and it has certainly moved to the east. In my opinion, my friend, both German wings have been defeated, and this central army is compelled to fall back because it's left without supports. But we'll soon see. They can't hide from us the evidences of retreat."

The prisoners now marched in a long file in the moonlight across the fields, and John soon recognized the proof that Fleury was right. The German army was retreating. There were innumerable dull, rumbling sounds, made by the cannon and motors of all kinds passing along the roads, and at times also he heard the heavy tramp of scores of thousands marching in a direction that did not lead to Paris.

John began to think now of Lannes. Would he come? Was Weber right when he credited to him a knowledge near to omniscience? How was it possible for him to pick out a friend in all that huge morass of battle! And yet he had a wonderful, almost an unreasoning faith in Philip, and, as always when he thought of him, he looked up at the heavens.

It was an average night, one in which large objects should be visible in the skies, and he saw several aeroplanes almost over their heads, while the rattle of a dirigible came from a point further toward the east.

The aeroplane was bound to be German, but as John looked he saw a sleek shape darting high over them all and flying eastward. Intuition, or perhaps it was something in the motion and shape of the machine, made him believe it was the Arrow. It must be the Arrow! And Lannes must be in it! High over the army and high over the German planes it darted forward like a swallow and disappeared in a cloud of white mist. His hair lifted a little, and a thrill ran down his spine.

He still looked up as he walked along, and there was the sleek shape again! It had come back out of the white mist, and was circling over the German planes, flying with the speed and certainty of an eagle. He saw three of the German machines whirl about and begin to mount as if they would examine the stranger. But the solitary plane began to rise again in a series of dazzling circles. Up, up it went, as if it would penetrate the last and thinnest layer of air, until it reached the dark and empty void beyond.

The Arrow—he was sure it could be no other—was quickly lost in the infinite heights, and then the German planes were lost, too, but they soon came back, although the Arrow did not. It had probably returned to some point over the French line or had gone eastward beyond the Germans.

John felt that he had again seen a sign. He remembered how he and Lannes had drawn hope from omens when they were looking at the Arc de Triomphe, and a similar hope sprang up now. Weber was right! Lannes would come to his rescue. Some thought or impulse yet unknown would guide him.

Light clouds now drifted up from the southwest, and all the aeroplanes were hidden, but the heavy murmur of the marching army went on. The puffing and clashing of innumerable automobiles came from the roads also, though John soon ceased to pay attention to them. As the hours passed, he felt an increased weariness. He had sat still almost the whole day, but the strain of the watching and waiting had been as great as that of the walking now was. He wondered if the guards would ever let them stop.

They waded another brook, passed through another wood and then they were ordered to halt. The guards announced that they could sleep, as they would go no farther that night. The men did not lie down. They fell, and each lay where he fell, and in whatever position he had assumed when falling.

John was conscious of hearing the order, of striking the grass full length, and he knew nothing more until the next morning when he was aroused by Fleury. He saw a whitish dawn with much mist floating over the fields, and he believed that a large river, probably the Marne, must be near.

As far as he could see the ground was covered with German soldiers. They too had dropped at the command to stop, and had gone to sleep as they were falling. The majority of them still slept.

"What is it, Fleury? Why did you wake me up?" asked John.

"The river Marne is close by, and I'm sure that the Germans are going to retreat across it. I had an idea that possibly we might escape while there's so much mist. They can't watch us very closely while they have so much else to do, and doubtless they would care but little if some of us did escape."

"We'll certainly look for the chance. Can you see any sign of the French pursuit?"

"Not yet, but our people will surely follow. They're still at it already on the flanks!"

The distant thunder of cannon came from both right and left.

"A third day of fighting is at hand," said Fleury.

"And it will be followed by a fourth."

"And a fifth."

"But we shall continue to drive the enemy away."

Both spoke with the utmost confidence. Having seen their armies victorious for two days they had no doubt they would win again. All that morning they listened to the sounds of combat, although they saw much less than on the day before. The prisoners were in a little wood, where they lay down at times, and then, restless and anxious, would stand on tiptoe again, seeking to see at least a corner of the battle.

John and Fleury were standing near noon at the edge of the wood, when a small body of Uhlans halted close by. Being not more than fifty in number, John judged that they were scouts, and the foaming mouths of their horses showing that they had been ridden hard, confirmed him in the opinion. They were only fifty or sixty yards from him, and although they were motionless for some time, their eager faces showed that they were waiting for some movement.

It was pure chance, but John happened to be looking at a rather large man who sat his horse easily, his gloved hand resting on his thigh. He saw distinctly that his face was very ruddy and covered with beads of perspiration. Then man and horse together fell to the ground as if struck by a bolt of lightning. The man did not move at all, but the horse kicked for a few moments and lay still.

There was a shout of mingled amazement and horror from the other Uhlans, and it found its echo in John's own mind. He saw one of the men look up, and he looked up also. A dark shape hovered overhead. Something small and black, and then another and another fell from it and shot downward into the group of Uhlans. A second man was hurled from his horse and lay still upon the ground. Again John felt that thrill of horror and amazement.

"What is it? What is it?" he cried.

"I think it's the steel arrow," said Fleury, pressing a little further forward and standing on tiptoe. "As well as I can see, the first passed entirely through the head of the man and then broke the backbone of the horse beneath him."

John saw one of the Uhlans, who had dismounted, holding up a short, heavy steel weapon, a dart rather than an arrow, its weight adjusted so that it was sure to fall point downward. Coming from such a height John did not wonder that it had pierced both horse and rider, and as he looked another, falling near the Uhlan, struck deep into the earth.

"There goes the aeroplane that did it," said John to Fleury, pointing upward.

It hovered a minute or two longer and flew swiftly back toward the French lines, pursued vainly a portion of the distance by the German Taubes.

"A new weapon of death," said Fleury. "The fighters move in the air, under the water, on the earth, everywhere."

"The Uhlans are off again," said John. "Whatever their duty was the steel arrows have sent them on it in a hurry."

"And we're about to move too. See, these batteries are limbering up preparatory to a withdrawal."

Inside of fifteen minutes they were again marching eastward, though slowly and with the roar of battle going on as fiercely behind them as ever. John heard again from some of the talk of the guards that the Germans had five armies along their whole line, but whether the one with which he was now a prisoner was falling back with its whole force he had no way of knowing. Both he and Fleury were sure the prisoners themselves would soon cross the Marne, and that large detachments of the enemy would go with them.

Thoughts of escape returned. Crossing a river in battle was a perilous operation, entailing much confusion, and the chance might come at the Marne. They could see too that the Germans were now being pressed harder. The French shells were coming faster and with more deadly precision. Now and then they exploded among the masses of German infantry, and once or twice they struck close to the captives.

"It would be a pity to be killed by our own people," said Fleury.

"And at such a time as this," said John. "Do