Taking advantage of the momentary confusion, two of the Belgian prisoners made a dash for liberty. One was the man to whom Kenneth had spoken--a short, stout, apoplectic individual; the other a tall, lean fellow who had the appearance of a trained athlete.
Before the astonished Germans could level their rifles both men had got across a wide ditch, and had placed a hundred yards of marshy ground between them and their late captors. Then half a dozen rifles rang out, but the fugitives held on, the taller one having established a lead of twenty yards. They were making for a wood, not more than a quarter of a mile off.
Again and again the Germans fired. The lads could see some of the bullets kicking up spurts of dirt a long way wide of their mark; others must have sung harmlessly overhead.
Suddenly the short man stopped. He could run no farther. He called to his companion; but the latter, taking no heed, did not slacken his swift pace. The corpulent fugitive looked over his shoulder, and seeing that some of the Germans had attempted pursuit, began to walk after his compatriot. The fact that the soldiers had missed him at short range had given him confidence. Presently the tall Belgian gained the outskirts of the wood. Here he stopped, and waved his arms with a contemptuous gesture at the German soldiers. It was his undoing, for by sheer chance a bullet struck him in the head. He pitched on his face and lay motionless.
The other man, alternately walking and running, got clear away.
The English lads now had their turn. They were kicked, prodded with rifle-butts, and repeatedly struck by the fists of the infuriated, half-drunken soldiers, till the sergeant, fearing that he might get into serious trouble if Colonel von Koenik's special prisoners were much injured, ordered his men to desist. Two of them were sent to bring the body of the foolhardy Belgian. Dead or alive the whole of the prisoners had to be accounted for, and the fact that one was missing caused the sergeant considerable misgivings.
Meanwhile the sound of distant firing still continued. If anything it seemed nearer. The German escort began to hurry their prisoners along.
A mile or so farther on they reached a small village. Here most of the inhabitants had left, but a few gazed timorously upon the grey-coated soldiers from the upper windows of their houses.