Spy & Mystery Collection: Major-General Hannay Novels, Dickson McCunn Trilogy & Sir Edward Leithen Series (Complete Edition). Buchan John

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ damned good, but if it’s gone … ‘ He flung up his hands.

      ‘Have we good reserves?’ I asked.

      He shrugged his shoulders.

      ‘Have we positions prepared behind the battle-zone?’

      ‘i didn’t notice any,’ he said dryly, and was off before I could get more out of him.

      ‘You look rattled, Dick,’ said Blenkiron as we walked to the hotel.

      ‘I seem to have got the needle. It’s silly, but I feel worse about this show than I’ve ever felt since the war started. Look at this city here. The papers take it easily, and the people are walking about as if nothing was happening. Even the soldiers aren’t worried. You may call me a fool to take it so hard, but I’ve a sense in my bones that we’re in for the bloodiest and darkest fight of our lives, and that soon Paris will be hearing the Boche guns as she did in 1914.’

      ‘You’re a cheerful old Jeremiah. Well, I’m glad Miss Mary’s going to be in England soon. Seems to me she’s right and that this game of ours isn’t quite played out yet. I’m envying you some, for there’s a place waiting for you in the fighting line.’

      ‘You’ve got to get home and keep people’s heads straight there. That’s the weak link in our chain and there’s a mighty lot of work before you.’

      ‘Maybe,’ he said abstractedly, with his eye on the top of the Vendome column.

      The train that afternoon was packed with officers recalled from leave, and it took all the combined purchase of Blenkiron and myself to get a carriage reserved for our little party. At the last moment I opened the door to admit a warm and agitated captain of the R.F.C. in whom I recognized my friend and benefactor, Archie Roylance.

      ‘Just when I was gettin’ nice and clean and comfy a wire comes tellin’ me to bundle back, all along of a new battle. It’s a cruel war, Sir.’ The afflicted young man mopped his forehead, grinned cheerfully at Blenkiron, glanced critically at Peter, then caught sight of Mary and grew at once acutely conscious of his appearance. He smoothed his hair, adjusted his tie and became desperately sedate.

      I introduced him to Peter and he promptly forgot Mary’s existence. If Peter had had any vanity in him it would have been flattered by the frank interest and admiration in the boy’s eyes. ‘I’m tremendously glad to see you safe back, sir. I’ve always hoped I might have a chance of meeting you. We want you badly now on the front. Lensch is gettin’ a bit uppish.’

      Then his eye fell on Peter’s withered leg and he saw that he had blundered. He blushed scarlet and looked his apologies. But they weren’t needed, for it cheered Peter to meet someone who talked of the possibility of his fighting again. Soon the two were deep in technicalities, the appalling technicalities of the airman. It was no good listening to their talk, for you could make nothing of it, but it was bracing up Peter like wine. Archie gave him a minute description of Lensch’s latest doings and his new methods. He, too, had heard the rumour that Peter had mentioned to me at St Anton, of a new Boche plane, with mighty engines and stumpy wings cunningly cambered, which was a devil to climb; but no specimens had yet appeared over the line. They talked of Bali, and Rhys Davids, and Bishop, and McCudden, and all the heroes who had won their spurs since the Somme, and of the new British makes, most of which Peter had never seen and had to have explained to him.

      Outside a haze had drawn over the meadows with the twilight. I pointed it out to Blenkiron.

      ‘There’s the fog that’s doing us. This March weather is just like October, mist morning and evening. I wish to Heaven we could have some good old drenching spring rain.’

      Archie was discoursing of the Shark-Gladas machine.

      ‘I’ve always stuck to it, for it’s a marvel in its way, but it has my heart fairly broke. The General here knows its little tricks. Don’t you, sir? Whenever things get really excitin’, the engine’s apt to quit work and take a rest.’

      ‘The whole make should be publicly burned,’ I said, with gloomy recollections.

      ‘I wouldn’t go so far, sir. The old Gladas has surprisin’ merits. On her day there’s nothing like her for pace and climbing-power, and she steers as sweet as a racin’ cutter. The trouble about her is she’s too complicated. She’s like some breeds of car—you want to be a mechanical genius to understand her… If they’d only get her a little simpler and safer, there wouldn’t be her match in the field. I’m about the only man that has patience with her and knows her merits, but she’s often been nearly the death of me. All the same, if I were in for a big fight against some fellow like Lensch, where it was neck or nothing, I’m hanged if I wouldn’t pick the Gladas.’

      Archie laughed apologetically. ‘The subject is banned for me in our mess. I’m the old thing’s only champion, and she’s like a mare I used to hunt that loved me so much she was always tryin’ to chew the arm off me. But I wish I could get her a fair trial from one of the big pilots. I’m only in the second class myself after all.’

      We were running north of St just when above the rattle of the train rose a curious dull sound. It came from the east, and was like the low growl of a veld thunderstorm, or a steady roll of muffled drums.

      ‘Hark to the guns!’ cried Archie. ‘My aunt, there’s a tidy bombardment goin’ on somewhere.’

      I had been listening on and off to guns for three years. I had been present at the big preparations before Loos and the Somme and Arras, and I had come to accept the racket of artillery as something natural and inevitable like rain or sunshine. But this sound chilled me with its eeriness, I don’t know why. Perhaps it was its unexpectedness, for I was sure that the guns had not been heard in this area since before the Marne. The noise must be travelling down the Oise valley, and I judged there was big fighting somewhere about Chauny or La Fere. That meant that the enemy was pressing hard on a huge front, for here was clearly a great effort on his extreme left wing. Unless it was our counter-attack. But somehow I didn’t think so.

      I let down the window and stuck my head into the night. The fog had crept to the edge of the track, a gossamer mist through which houses and trees and cattle could be seen dim in the moonlight. The noise continued—not a mutter, but a steady rumbling flow as solid as the blare of a trumpet. Presently, as we drew nearer Amiens, we left it behind us, for in all the Somme valley there is some curious configuration which blankets sound. The countryfolk call it the ‘Silent Land’, and during the first phase of the Somme battle a man in Amiens could not hear the guns twenty miles off at Albert.

      As I sat down again I found that the company had fallen silent, even the garrulous Archie. Mary’s eyes met mine, and in the indifferent light of the French railway-carriage I could see excitement in them—I knew it was excitement, not fear. She had never heard the noise of a great barrage before. Blenkiron was restless, and Peter was sunk in his own thoughts. I was growing very depressed, for in a little I would have to part from my best friends and the girl I loved. But with the depression was mixed an odd expectation, which was almost pleasant. The guns had brought back my profession to me, I was moving towards their thunder, and God only knew the end of it. The happy dream I had dreamed of the Cotswolds and a home with Mary beside me seemed suddenly to have fallen away to an infinite distance. I felt once again that I was on the razor-edge of life.

      The last part of the journey I was casting back to rake up my knowledge of the countryside. I saw again the stricken belt from Serre to Combles where we had fought in the summer Of ‘17. I had not been present in the advance of the following spring, but I had been at Cambrai and I knew all СКАЧАТЬ