“What’s all that terrible racket, Jack?” he demanded, as his ears caught a confusion of direful sounds outside. “It must be a fierce German drive,” the other told him. “They are pushing the British back toward Ypres, and will likely occupy this village on their way.” CHAPTER IX. WHEN THE DRIVE WAS ON. Amos was already fumbling around for his shoes. Through the open window came a medley of sounds, constantly growing in volume. Evidently a battle was on, and the roar of cannon began to be deafening. Outside, the villagers were greatly excited. They could be seen hurrying this way and that in the light of breaking dawn. Some were in full flight heading toward the south, while others doubtless must be making for underground retreats in the shape of cellars, the existence of which they were aware of. “I can’t seem to find one of my shoes,” complained Amos. “Just throw that light of yours around here a second, won’t you, Jack?” This being done the missing footgear was located, and soon placed where it belonged. Meanwhile that dreadful noise grew louder and more terrifying. It was by this time difficult to converse without shouting. There were stunning explosions in the air that caused quick flashes as of lightning. Others made the ground fairly tremble from the violence of the concussion. “All ready, Amos?” called Jack presently. “Give me ten seconds to get my coat on and I’ll be with you!” Amos was very much excited, as well he might be. Never in all his life had he listened to such a dreadful combination of awful noises. It was like half a dozen thunder storms rolled into one. If those Germans believe in carrying on a campaign of “frightfulness” they were certainly hewing pretty close to the line right then. “It’s getting worse all the while, Jack!” he called out. “Yes, as more guns come into play,” replied the other. “This must be one of the drives we’ve heard so much about.” “But we said we believed nothing could push those British chaps out of the trenches they’d dug themselves into,” said Amos. “I don’t know how it is,” Jack told him, “but some way has been found by the Kaiser’s men to break through. Once that happens, you know, the whole line of defense crumples up like an egg shell.” “Perhaps they’re using gas shells,” suggested Amos, for they had heard some talk along those lines from soldiers they had met returning wounded from the front. “I wouldn’t put it past them,” said Jack, “you know that as chemists the Germans lead the world. They firmly believe they are fighting for their existence as a nation. Are you all ready, Amos?” Upon the other replying in the affirmative they left the little room and made their way to the lower part of the house. Here a single lamp burned and by its meagre light they discovered the old burgomaster, who looked more solemn than ever.