The commissariat officer changed his tone when he saw the signature. The virtue of military obedience becomes a grovelling servitude in the German army, and a man who was ready to act with the utmost unfairness if left to his own instincts grew almost courteous at sight of the communications officer's name. "Your case is different," he admitted grudgingly. "Is this your party? The old man is Herr Schultz, I suppose. Which are you?"
"We're all going to Andenne. It's on the paper. This infernal fighting has smashed up our place at Aubel, and the women are footsore and frightened. So is papa. Put them in a wagon. Dampier and I can leg it."
The Prussian was becoming more civil each moment. He realised, too, that this gruff fellow who moved about the country under such powerful protection was a veritable godsend to him and his tired men.
"No, no," he cried, grown suddenly complaisant, "we can do better than that. I'll dump a few trusses of hay, and put you all in the same wagon, which can then take the lead."
Thus, by a mere turn of fortune's wheel, the enemy was changed into a friend, and a dangerous road made safe and comfort-giving. Jan sat in front with the driver, and cracked jokes with him, while the others nestled into a load of sweet-smelling hay.
"For the first time in my life," whispered Dalroy to Irene, "I understand the precise significance of Samson's riddle about the honey extracted from the lion's mouth. Our heavy-witted Jan has saved the situation. We enter Verviers in triumph, and reach the left of the German lines. Just another slice of luck, and we cross the Meuse at Andenne or elsewhere--it doesn't matter where."
Irene had kicked off those cruel sabots. She bit her lip in the darkness to stifle a sob before answering coolly, "Shall we be clear of the Germans then?"
"I--hope so. Their armies dare not advance so long as we hear those guns."
The girl could not reason in the soldier's way. She thought she would "hear those guns" during the rest of her life. Never had she dreamed of anything so horrific as that drumming of cannon. She believed, as women do, that every shell tore hundreds of human beings limb from limb. In silent revolt against the frenzy which seemed to possess the world, she closed her eyes and buried her head in the hay; and once again exhausted nature was its own best healer. When the convoy rumbled into Verviers in the early morning, having followed a by-road through Julemont and Herve, Irene had to be awaked out of deep sleep. Yet the boom of the guns continued! Liège was still holding out, a paranoiac despot was frantic with wrath, and civilised Europe had yet another day to prepare for the caging of the beast which threatened its very existence.