World War, 1914-1918 -- Aerial operations -- Juvenile fiction
"Ach! the swine are probably drunk. They are dull fools at the best.
Come along! We’ll slip out through the window, to avoid warning the
servants."
The two officers and the sergeant climbed out of the window and hastened
towards the hill. They had scarcely gone when the servant who had
waited on them knocked at the door, and receiving no answer, hearing no
voices, quickly opened it and looked in. She glanced from the vacant
chairs to the open window.
"Eh, mon Dieu!" she muttered, and closing the door, hurried back to the
kitchen.
The three Germans had covered about half the distance to the hill when
the sound of heavy firing from the right broke upon their ears. They
stopped, and stood for a few moments watching the shells bursting in
rapid succession in the neighbourhood of the trenches. The captain
swore.
"It looks like an attack," he growled. "These cursed English! We must
make haste in case we are called up in support. No sleep to-night,
Schnauzzahn."
They hurried on, and in five minutes more were creeping up the low
incline. At the crest they halted and peered into the hollow. A figure
was bending over one of the lamps, which emitted a brighter light into
the mist.
"Go and capture him, Ascher," whispered the captain.
"Shall I bayonet him, Herr Captain?"
"No; we must use him. We can shoot him later."
The sergeant crept silently upon the old farmer from the rear. It was
the work of a few seconds to overpower him and cast him helpless on the
ground.
The two officers went forward. As they descended the slope they became
aware that the lights were less visible.
"They’re intended as signals to an aeroplane," said Schnauzzahn,
approaching them rapidly. "See! They are directed above."
"Villainous treachery! But our good German wits will defeat it.
Listen! Do you hear an engine?"
"No," replied the lieutenant after a brief silence.
"Then we have still time. Ascher, move the lamps near the slope. We’ll
spoil his landing!"
The sergeant carried the lamps to the foot of the slope, and placed them
close together.
"Not so, idiot!" cried the captain, "arrange them as they were before.
Don’t you understand?"
Hardly had the lamps been rearranged in their triangular position when
the whirring of an engine was heard through the thunder of the distant
guns.
"Here he is!" said Bramarbas. "I hope he’ll break his neck. If he
doesn’t, you and I will seize him, Schnauzzahn; Ascher will guard the
farmer."
They waited. The aeroplane could be heard wheeling above. The
bombardment suddenly ceased.
"The English have changed their minds. They can’t have done much harm in
ten minutes. So much the better!" said the captain. The searchlights
began to play. "Potztausend! I hope he won’t be shot down. Much better
for us to capture him. Can he see the lights through the mist?"
"No doubt he has seen them. The sound has stopped. He has shut off the
engine."
"Bring the Frenchman over the crest, Ascher, and don’t let him cry out."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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