The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great WarWesterman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
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The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War
Westerman, Percy F. (Percy Francis)
Adventure stories; Motorcycles -- Juvenile fiction; World War, 1914-1918 -- Juvenile fiction
Presently a woman passed, leading a little girl by the hand. She was a
buxom, comely peasant, the child bright-faced and apparently
well-cared-for. They were laughing and chattering. Then a man on a
dog-drawn cart came down the street. The animals, their tongues
protruding and their sides heaving with the heat, were moving at a
leisurely pace. The man made no attempt to hurry them. He was smiling
contentedly, and called out a cheery greeting in Flemish to the patient
audience before the gate of Madame de la Barre. A little way down the
street he halted his team and entered a cottage. He was lame, hence he
had not been called up on mobilization.
Presently the maid-servant reappeared.
"Madame thanks Monsieur the Major, but at present sees no reason for
taking his advice. Should war be declared she will take necessary
steps to safeguard her pupils. If Mademoiselle Résimont is to be sent
to her home at Brussels, no doubt Monsieur the Major will communicate
in writing with Madame. If Monsieur Everest desires to see his sister
he can do so in the presence of Madame at eleven o'clock to-morrow."
Having delivered this ultimatum, the maid shut the door and shot the
massive bolts.
"Done this time!" ejaculated Kenneth. "Let's get back to Liége.
There'll be plenty to see."
The lads set off at a rapid pace in spite of the heat. They were on
foot, having placed their motor-cycles in the village of Argenteau.
By the time they regained Argenteau a change had come over the little
hamlet. A detachment of engineers was in possession. The men,
discarding their heavy greatcoats, were busily engaged in throwing up
earthworks, while almost within arm's-length their rifles were piled,
each weapon with its bayonet fixed.
"Halte-là!" The tip of a bayonet presented within a couple of inches
of Rollo's chest brought both lads to a sudden stop. "Qui v'là?"
The production of the pass with which Major Résimont had provided them
was sufficient, and without further hindrance the two friends gained
the inn.
As they passed under the archway they found that their beloved
motor-cycles had vanished.
"Pardon, messieurs!" exclaimed the landlord on catching sight of the
two lads. "It was not my fault, I assure you. It is the order of the
Government. They have taken away all the horses, all the carts----"
"And our motor-cycles?"
"Hélas, messieurs, it is a fact. Nevertheless, the Government will
pay----"
"Where are they taken to?" asked Kenneth.
"They were placed in a transport wagon, monsieur. It left in the
direction of Liége not fifteen minutes ago."
"Let's hurry and catch it up," suggested Rollo. "It's daylight
robbery. I believe that rascally innkeeper has played a trick on us."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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