At the Sign of the Sword: A Story of Love and War in Belgium

Suddenly both started, for in the room sounded a loud deafening report.

Aimée started and drew back, breathless and shocked, for from that hated face thrust into hers, before her, one eye disappeared. The hateful face receded, the body reeled and suddenly falling backward, rolled over the stone flags of the kitchen.

A bullet had entered the eye of Arnaud Rigaux, and, passing through his brain, had taken away a portion of his skull, causing instant death. That left eye, as he reeled and fell backwards, was blotted out, for it was only a clot of blood.

“Aimée!” shouted a voice.

The girl, startled, turned to encounter a man in a grey uniform – a German infantryman! He wore a small round grey cap, and in its front the little circular cockade of blue and white – the mark of the Bavarian.

“Aimée!”

The girl stared into the face of her rescuer.

It was Edmond – Edmond —her own dear Edmond– and dressed as a Bavarian!

“The infernal spy!” he cried in a hard, rough voice. “I caught the fellow just in time, my darling. For two years past I have known the truth – that in addition to being our worst enemy – he has also been a traitor to our King and country, and your father’s false friend.”

“But Edmond?” gasped the girl, staring at him like one in a dream. “Why are you here – dressed as a German?”

“Hush!” he whispered. “If I am caught I shall be shot as a spy! I must not talk, or I may betray myself. Come with me. We must get back at once to the Belgian line.”

“But – but how?” she gasped, for now the truth had dawned upon her – the truth of the great risk her lover ran in penetrating to the invested town.

“Come with me. Have no fear, my darling. If God wills that we die, we will at least die together. Come,” he whispered, “appear as though you go with me unwillingly, or somebody may suspect us. Come along now,” he shouted, and taking her wrist roughly pretended to drag her forth into the street, where dead men and women were lying about in the roadway, and the houses only a few yards away were already ablaze.

He dragged her along that narrow street, so full of haunting horrors, urging her beneath his breath to pretend a deadly hatred of him. They passed crowds of drunken Germans. Some were smashing in windows with the butt ends of their rifles, and pouring petrol into the rooms from cans which others carried. Others were dragging along women and girls, or forcing them to march before them at the points of bayonets, and laughing immoderately at the terror such proceeding caused.

A swaggering young officer of the Seventieth Regiment of the Rhine staggered past them with a champagne bottle in his hand. He addressed some command to Edmond Valentin.

For a second Aimée’s heart stood still. But Edmond, seeing that the lieutenant was intoxicated, merely saluted and passed on, hurrying round the corner into the square where, against the wall near the church, they saw a line of bodies – the bodies of those innocent townspeople whom the bloodthirsty horde had swept out of existence with their machine-guns.

On every side ugly stains of blood showed upon the stones. A dark red stream trickled slowly into the gutters, so awful had been the massacre an hour before.

As they crossed the square they witnessed a frightful scene. Some men and women, who had hidden in a cellar, were driven out upon the pavement ruthlessly, and shot down. The officer who gave the order, smoking a cigarette and laughing the while.

Aimée stood for a second with closed eyes, not bearing to witness such a fearful sight. Those shrill cries of despair from the terrified women and children rang in her ears for a moment. Then the rifles crackled, and there were no more cries – only a huddled heap of dead humanity.

Edmond dragged her forward. German soldiers whom they passed laughed merrily at the conquest apparently made by one of their comrades.

And as they went by the ruined church, and out upon the road towards Leffe, the scene of pillage and drunkenness that met their eyes, was indeed revolting.

Though the Belgian Government has since issued an official report to the Powers concerning the wild orgies of that awful day in Dinant, the story, in all its true hideousness, will, perhaps, never be known. Those seven hundred or so poor creatures who could testify to the fiendish torture practised upon them: how some were mutilated, outraged, bound, covered with straw and burned alive, and even buried alive, are all in their graves, their lips, alas! sealed for ever.

Another officer, a major of the Seventeenth Uhlans, rode past, and Edmond saluted. They were, indeed, treading dangerous ground.

If Edmond were discovered, both he and she would be shot as spies against the nearest wall.

How she refrained from fainting she knew not. But she bore that terrible ordeal bravely, her spirit sustained by her great, boundless love for the man at her side.

The road they had taken led by the river-bank, and just as a body of Uhlans had clattered past, raising a cloud of dust, they saw across the hills at Bouvigne, a heliograph at work, signalling towards Namur.

Above them a Taube aeroplane was slowly circling.

Chapter Seventeen.

In Deadly Peril

Not only was Dinant itself being decimated, but in the Faubourg of Leffe, through which they were now passing, the German soldiers, the majority of them infantrymen wearing on their caps the green and white cockade denoting that they were from Saxony, including also many from Baden, were busy pillaging the houses, and in one spot an officer had drawn up a number of terrified women and children, and was compelling them to cry “Vive l’Allemagne!” Each house, after being sacked, was systematically burned down.

In safety they passed through all the terrors which filled the little place, yet in fear each moment of detection. But the soldiers and officers seemed so intent upon their fell work of wanton destruction that, happily, no notice was taken of the fugitives. At last they gained the high road which, following the bold of the Meuse, ran in the direction of Namur. Ten miles or so beyond lay the German front, and that would have to be passed, if they were to escape with their lives.

On the road were many German soldiers, and passing them constantly were rumbling guns, ammunition-wagons, and motor-cars containing staff-officers.

Aimée knew the roads in the vicinity well, and in a whisper suggested that they should turn off into a narrow lane on the right. She knew of a path which led through the wood to a village called Assesse, she said.

“Assesse!” echoed her lover. “You know the way, darling! Bien, it is near that place we must get. Close by there I hid my Belgian uniform, and dressed in these clothes – clothes I took from a Bavarian shot by us while on outpost duty.”

They turned into the lane, where they found themselves alone.

“I think,” the girl said, “that it would be best if we did not walk together. We might be suspected. I will go ahead, and you follow me. It is nearly five miles, but when we enter the wood the path is quite straight, through two other woods and over a brook – until we reach the village.”

“Very well, dearest,” he said, reluctantly obliged to admit that her advice was sound. He would certainly stand a better chance of escape alone, now they were in the open country over which the Germans were swarming, than if they were together. Yet neither could disguise from themselves the fact that their lives now hung by a single thread.

Should any soldier they met accost Edmond, then he would certainly be betrayed, and death would, most assuredly, be their lot.

Having parted, however, the girl, dusty, dishevelled, and hatless, went forward, he following her at a short distance, in fear lest she might fall into the hands of one of the Prussian brutes.

At last, however, they came to the wood, but both noticed that, near by, were half a dozen Uhlans drawn up on outpost duty. They quickly caught sight of the girl, but regarded her as harmless, and then, when Edmond came swinging along, they allowed him also to pass, believing him to be one of their comrades-in-arms.

Within the wood they were practically safe, and had hurried forward a couple of miles, when Aimée suddenly heard voices and loud laughter ahead. A number of Uhlans were riding in single file up the path in their direction, therefore, in an instant she dashed away into the undergrowth until they had passed, an example followed by Edmond.

Then, when the enemy had gone, they once more went forward again, but full of caution lest they should be taken by surprise.

Those five miles were the longest either of them had ever covered, for every yard was full of breathless terror. They knew not where, an outpost might be lurking, for they were gradually approaching the Belgian front.

It was nearly two o’clock in the afternoon when, on emerging from the wood into the hot sunshine again, they found themselves above a tiny whitewashed village, with slated roofs and thin church spire – the village of Assesse.

This place they carefully avoided lest it should be occupied by the enemy, but approaching a field not far away, Edmond said:

“See yonder! darling, that old black shed. In there, my uniform is hidden beneath some straw. Until night comes on I dare not change.”

“Then let us hide in the shed till night,” she suggested. “You can change after dark, and we can then go forward.”

He sighed. The situation was, he knew, critical. “You know the risk we shall run, darling. Are you really prepared for it?”

“I will face any danger at your side, Edmond. You have saved my life to-day, remember, and at imminent risk of your own.”

“Because I love you, my own darling,” was his quick response. “I have thought only of you, and of you alone. I must save you, and God will surely assist me in so doing.”

“Yes. We are in His hands,” she declared fervently. “Let us go over yonder, and hide till it grows dark.”

“But you must be hungry,” he suggested.

“No, Edmond,” she laughed. “Don’t think of me – think of yourself, of your own safety.”

So they crept forward, unobserved, until they reached the shed – a mere shelter for cows. In one corner of the dirty place lay a great heap of mouldering straw, and Edmond, having worked away until he had made a hole large enough to admit them both, they both crept in and lightly covered themselves.

And then, as she found herself in his strong arms, she felt his fond kisses raining upon her brow, fierce, passionate caresses, that told her plainly how deep and how sacred was his great love for her – how strong was his affection and devotion.

For seven long hours they remained there, conversing in whispers, he recounting to her the various engagements in which he had been since the outbreak of the war.

He explained to her, too, how by reason of a law-case brought to him by a client, his suspicions had, two years before, been aroused that Arnaud Rigaux, the great Brussels financier, was a secret agent of the German Government. For months he had watched closely until, only a fortnight before the war, Rigaux’s suspicions had been aroused that he was being watched. The spy feared him – feared lest he should go to the Minister of War and disclose his suspicions. This course, however, Edmond had hesitated to take.

“Why?” asked Aimée. “Was it not your duty to tell the truth?”

“It was my duty, I admit. But had I done so, you, dearest, not knowing the true facts, would have believed me guilty of trying to remove my rival by an underhand method. I should have lost your esteem. Therefore I preferred to wait until I could strike an effective blow, and still, at the same time, reveal to you that I had just cause for so doing.”

“Your just cause was revealed to-day, Edmond,” she said. “You have avenged our country, which that mean, despicable spy sought to undermine and destroy, and at the same time, dear, you saved me.”

“I had no idea that the scoundrel was in Dinant, watching the wanton work of his Prussian friends. He hated Belgium, and all Belgians, and so he went, I suppose, to witness a scene of destruction unparalleled in modern history.

“Last night, after we had been driven back over the hills, I resolved at all hazards to return to you; therefore, as I have explained, I took the clothes from a dead Bavarian and succeeded in passing the German outposts just before the dawn. It was an exciting journey back to Dinant, I can assure you,” and he smiled grimly.

“Ah! It must have been. And you risked your life – you are risking it now – in order to save me,” she said.

Slowly the light faded and a ray of red sunset, shining in at the doorway of the shed, lit up the place with crimson light.

Suddenly they heard sounds of voices. They both held their breath.

Aimée, who knew German, heard one of the men exclaim, as they approached:

“This would, I think, be a snug place in which to spend the night, Karl.”

Her heart beat quickly. She could hear it thumping.

The man’s companion muttered some response gruffly, and they both entered with heavy tramp. She could see that they were tall, broad-shouldered Uhlans, in grey braided tunics, jack boots, and helmets.

They looked around for a few seconds, whereupon the gruff-voiced man exclaimed in disgust:

“No. It’s too dirty. Let us get further along. We shall surely find a better place than that.”

And then they strode out, remounted their horses and rode away.

The pair in hiding drew long breaths of relief. That had, surely, been a narrow escape.

When it had grown quite dark and the rats began to scamper, Edmond, foraging about, discovered his torn worn-out Belgian uniform, and quickly exchanged his Bavarian dress for his own clothes. Then he having carefully stolen out and reconnoitred, they both crept away across the fields to where the trees of a plantation showed like a black, jagged line against the night sky.

In his Belgian uniform Edmond Valentin was now in even greater danger than before, for at any moment they might be challenged, when he would, assuredly, be shot.

But, keeping closely in the shadows, they went on until they gained the plantation. The night was close and oppressive. In the distance, every now and then could be heard the thunder of guns, while in the sky before them, the long straight beams of the searchlights, sweeping backwards and forwards, showed the direction of the Belgian front, now that they had retired from the Meuse.

“I left the regiment about three miles from the edge of this wood,” Edmond whispered. “They were yonder, where that second searchlight is showing. But probably they have retired farther, towards Namur, or our outposts would certainly have been here. We must have a care, and avoid the German sentries.”

Then they crept forward and entered the dark, silent plantation. There was not a breath of wind; not a leaf stirred, hence their footsteps sounded loudly as they stole forward, holding their breath, and halting every now and then to listen.

Once they heard voices – men speaking in German and laughing. Even the scent of tobacco reached their nostrils. They halted, drew back and waited, so escaping detection.

That was truly a weird and exciting night adventure, for they were now very near the German outposts. They could see the twinkling lights of camp-fires upon a hill-side on their right, and once the far-off sound of a bugle fell upon their ears.

Presently they emerged from the plantation, and Edmond, having paused for a few moments to take his bearings, struck off down a narrow lane, where the trees overhung until their branches met above. For nearly a mile further they went along, leaving the roadway whenever they heard the tramp of soldiers approaching, and once very narrowly running right into the arms of a German sentry, who was standing hidden in the shadow of a haystack. It was only by drawing up suddenly, bending behind a bush, and waiting through some ten minutes of breathless agony, that they were able to extricate themselves from a very tight corner.

And at last, when they were aide to creep forward unseen, they again found themselves almost beneath the hoofs of a cavalry patrol, riding along across some open pasture-land.

When that further danger had passed, Edmond whispered to his beloved:

“We have, I believe, passed the German outposts now, dearest. Yet we must be very careful. We may not have got quite through yet. Come, we will cross that low hill yonder. No, the valley, perhaps, will be best,” he added. “I see there’s a farmhouse on the hill. The Uhlans may be there – in quarters for the night. We must avoid that.”

So they descended over the grass land, where the country dipped towards the low ridge of hills, beyond which lay the Belgians on the defensive.

A few moments later they found themselves in a field of standing corn which had, alas! been sadly trampled by the enemy, and still crept along in the shadow of a high bank. On their right ran a shallow brook, rippling musically over the stones, one of those many trout streams, the undisturbed haunt of the heron, with which the picturesque Ardennes abound.

All was quiet, and nobody appeared to be in the vicinity. Yet Edmond knew that the whole of the enemy’s lines must be so well patrolled that it would be most difficult for them to escape across to the Belgians with their lives.

The German sentry system is as near perfect as the military brain can render it. Not a cat could slip by the German lines, now that they were advancing to the conquest.

Still he had come through on the previous night, and he was bent, for the sake of Aimée, upon getting her back safely. Of a sudden, a voice sounded a short distance away – a loud gruff expression in German.

The pair drew up and waited, holding their breath.

Straight before them the long, bright beam of a searchlight was slowly sweeping the sky, searching for German aeroplanes.

The men were against a line of bushes.

“Be careful, Edmond!” whispered the girl. “They are coming this way.”

But they were not, for they could see that the dark figures silhouetted against the night sky were receding.

Straight before them was another dark copse, which led up the side of the low hill.

When the Germans had gone, Aimée and her lover crept forward noiselessly, making their way to the cover afforded by the copse which, Edmond had concluded, lay between the opposing lines.

They had, however, not gone more than a hundred yards when a German sentry sprang suddenly forth from the shadow, with fixed bayonet, and uttered a loud, gruff challenge in German:

“Halt! Who goes there?”

Aimée, startled, drew back in terror, clinging to her lover’s arm. But only for a second. Then she drew herself up again, and stood motionless at his side.

“Who goes there?” again demanded the sentry, in a tone of quick suspicion. “Come forward,” he commanded in an imperious voice. “Who are you?” Neither spoke. In their ignorance they were walking right into the enemy’s camp! They were entrapped!

Chapter Eighteen.

The Gulf of Shadows

“We must fly for our lives, Aimée!” her lover whispered. “Follow me!”

“Bien! I am ready!” she answered, quite cool in that moment of their supreme peril. The terrors of that day had not unnerved her, because of Edmond’s presence.

She thought only of him.

Between where they stood there, half concealed by the low bushes and the dark shadow of the copse before them, was a distance of some ten yards, or so. To escape, they must make a dash across that small open space.

The German sentry repeated his challenge loudly.

Not an instant was now to be lost. It was a matter of life or death.

“Now, darling!” cried Edmond, and together they held their breath and together sped towards the copse.

Next instant a rifle flashed, and there was a loud report, followed, a second later, by another sharp shot, and then another, and yet another.

The alarm had been given, and, in a moment, the whole line of the enemy’s sentries were on the alert.

Aimée heard the bullets scream past her as she ran.

She heard, too, Edmond gasp and ejaculate an expression of surprise. But until they were safe in the copse, speeding along together as fast as their feet could carry them, she was unaware that her lover’s right arm was hanging limp and useless – that he had received an ugly wound through the shoulder.

“Why?” she gasped in dismay, pulling up suddenly. “You are hurt – dearest! You are wounded!” la the darkness she felt some warm sticky fluid upon her hand.

“It’s nothing, really, Aimée. Just a graze – that’s all,” he declared. “Come, for Heaven’s sake. Let us get on, or we may yet be caught! Our own outposts must be somewhere close by. Let us hope they are beyond this copse. Come – let us hurry —hurry!”

Those final words of his were uttered because he felt his strength giving way, and before he fell exhausted, as he must do, he meant still to strive with his last effort to place his beloved in safety.

She, noticing that his voice had somehow changed, and knowing that the blood was streaming from his shoulder, took his left arm and assisted him stealthily along.

Suddenly, by a mere chance, they struck a narrow path in the darkness, and this led them to the further end of the copse.

Scarcely, however, had they come out into the open, when another voice challenged them loudly —in French!

Those words, startling them for a second, caused them next moment to gasp with relief.

Edmond answered the challenge cheerily, and they walked forward to where stood the friendly Belgian outpost. In a few quick words Valentin explained to the cavalryman how they had passed through the German lines, but being suspicious of spies, the man, quite rightly, called up four of his comrades, and then both fugitives were conducted along a high road for a considerable distance to the Belgian camp.

Before General Thalmann, commanding the Sixth Brigade, seated in his tent, Edmond Valentin quickly established the fact that he was no spy, and, indeed, he was able to give some very valuable information regarding the disposition of the enemy, and related for the first time, the terrible story of the sack and destruction of Dinant.

The grey-moustached General, having complimented him upon his gallant conduct and his wonderful escape, ordered him to at once have his wound dressed. Then, rising from his camp-chair, he bowed politely to Aimée, saying:

“I also wish to offer my heartiest congratulations to you, Mademoiselle, upon your providential escape from Dinant. I allow you to accompany Sous-officier Valentin to the Base Hospital. Captain Dulac, he added, turning to one of his officers present, please sign the necessary order. And note that I bestow the highest praise upon Sous-officier Valentin, of the Eighth Chasseurs, for penetrating into the enemy’s lines and obtaining much valuable intelligence.”

“I may add, General, that I discovered, in Dinant, the Brussels financier, Arnaud Rigaux, dressed as a German Major, and, having myself proved that he was a spy, shot him?”

“You shot Arnaud Rigaux!” exclaimed the General, staring at him. “Is that true?”

“Yes, m’sieur.”

“You are quite certain of this?”

“Quite certain. Mademoiselle was present.”

“Then please make a note of that also, Captain Dulac,” the commander said. “Only yesterday I received word from headquarters that he was to be captured, and wherever found, sent for trial by court-martial at Antwerp. So you, Valentin, it seems, have put a sudden end to this man’s dastardly career – eh?” and the well-set-up, grey-moustached man – one of Belgium’s bravest generals – grinned with satisfaction. “Well, I congratulate you, and you may rest assured that your distinguished services will not go unrewarded. Bon soir, Mademoiselle – Bon soir, Valentin.”

And the pair were then led forth from the tent, away to that of the medical service, where a doctor quickly investigated Edmond’s wound.

Aimée, fortunately perhaps, remained outside, for scarcely had her lover entered the tent, than he fell fainting. Restoratives were quickly administered, and the bullet was extracted under an anaesthetic, while she waited in patience outside. Edmond’s wound was, alas! of a far more serious character than the gallant soldier of Belgium had at first believed. In consequence of medical advice he was sent, next day, by train to the military hospital in Antwerp, Aimée, by order of the general, being allowed to accompany him in the military train.