A Hero of Liége: A Story of the Great WarStrang, Herbert
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A Hero of Liége: A Story of the Great War
Strang, Herbert
World War, 1914-1918 -- France -- Juvenile fiction
"They may bring others back with them," suggested Pariset.
"They will not, if I know my Hellwig," answered Granger. "Of course we
are wofully outnumbered if they all take a hand, to say nothing of the
machine gun. The sound of that would probably bring down upon us a
swarm of gentle Germans."
"Are they so near?" asked Kenneth.
"I tottered through a large camp of them a couple of miles to the north,
and this morning I saw from the upper windows troops moving along a road
within a mile and a half to the west."
"Then we should have tumbled right into the camp if we had gone on,"
said Kenneth.
"I think better of you than that! But you see that we must keep the
machine gun quiet at all costs. A revolver shot would be safe, perhaps;
but if we can avoid that, too, so much the better. Now I really must go
and make my perquisitions. Last night I cooked some new-killed beef
they brought with them; to-day they expect something more choice. I
must scour the neighbourhood. There will be plenty of time, I think; if
they should return before I do, I must leave you to exercise the same
resourcefulness as has defied the superman hitherto. They may search the
house as they did last night. As a precaution, I suggest that you take
refuge in the garden during my absence. The shrubberies are excellent."
"Can you give us something to eat?" said Kenneth. "We are famished."
"Unhappily they cleared the board this morning, leaving me nothing but
the crumbs. But I will be as quick as possible. You shall breakfast
royally."
He left them. Instead of adopting his suggestion they went to the top
of the house and watched the long defile of German troops on the western
road. They would hear or see the returning car in good time to make
their escape by the back door.
Within an hour Granger returned, with a couple of fowls, a duck, and
other comestibles purchased at high prices from the few peasants in the
neighbouring village whom the approach of the Germans had not scared
away. Among his many accomplishments was a considerable skill in
cooking. He roasted the duck and one of the fowls, prepared bread sauce
and apple, boiled potatoes to a nice point of flouriness, turned out
Brussels sprouts dry and crisp.
"Now we will make a start," he said. "I can always work better if I am
well fed, and you, I am sure, are very sharpset."
"We are indeed," said Kenneth. "But what about the Germans?"
"There will be at least a smell of cooking when they arrive. The
pleasures of hope are keener than the pleasures of memory, I believe.
While you eat, I will talk. What I say may aid your digestion; but you
must exercise your own united judgment. When you have finished, I
suggest that you rest until they come; they are not soft-tongued, and if
you fall asleep their entrance will waken you. There are excellent
divans in the smoking-room on the other side of that curtain."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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