“Yes, but why explain now? Let’s get to the hotel. It looks like a riot. I’m not a bit anxious to get into a German quarrel.”
“Neither am I,” agreed Alan fervently. “Jove, it seems to be getting thicker here.”
He pointed to a new congestion in the crowd which, apparently divided into conflicting parties, swayed back and forth across the thoroughfare.
“Beg pardon, Captain Gordon,” broke in Miller, who sat grasping the two hand-bags as though prepared to jump out at any emergency, “I understood the policeman to say that there’s a fight on between the government party and the rebels. Nobody knows yet who’s got the upper hand.”
Bob and Alan listened uncomprehendingly. No news had reached them in Archangel of the serious outbreaks of Bolshevism in Berlin and elsewhere in Germany. The name of Spartacans which the rebels had taken was an unknown word to them. But the terror of the people, the disorder in the once strictly governed city, was plain enough to their eyes.
The taxi continued to force a difficult way through the crowds clustering about the streets, drawn into frightened groups that dispersed into mad flight at each new alarm. Suddenly more shots rang out, this time from the roof of a building bordering the great square called Pariser Platz. The taxi came to an abrupt stop, and, before the policeman could impede him, the driver had sprung from his place and was running headlong across the square toward shelter.
Shots from rifles and machine guns placed on the roofs rained down on the open. The people fled in screaming panic, leaving some of their number stretched on the pavement. A company of soldiers, sheltered behind improvised breastworks of tipped-over wagons, returned the fire, but ineffectually, for the rebels were lying flat on the roofs, nearly invisible. Shots pattered over the taxicab and a bullet smashed a window and buried itself in the cushion behind Miller’s back.
“We can’t stay here!” Bob shouted. “Come, both of you. We’ll run for it!”
“You can’t run, sir,” protested Miller, at his wits’ end. “Get behind the cab, sir. Won’t that protect some?”
The policeman was already down and crouching against the cab, calling out unintelligible orders to people who did not stop to heed him. Another company of infantry reached the square on a run and went to the help of their comrades. But the rebels’ increasing fire now made the place almost untenable.