Still Liège did not surrender. Every day the glorious news would come of the terrible bombardment, and of thrilling deeds of heroism. Brave little Belgium was checking the giant which dared to molest her soil. Ten days of intermittent thunder followed, which could plainly be heard twenty-five miles beyond the outer circle of forts, to the north.
A Dome-Topped Fort of Liège
The twelve great forts were not silenced by the incessant hail poured on them from all sides. The Germans were astounded; the Belgians exultant. The resistance had held back the German advance for two weeks. They had expected to be in France, and well on the way to Paris, before this time.
Each day rumors grew stronger, and more persistent, that the great German army had begun its march to overrun Belgium. Liège had been entirely invested. The Belgian army had stretched like a cordon across the highways between Liège on the one hand, and Tirlemont, St. Trond, Landin and Namur on the other.
Soldiers, camp outfits, guns, ammunition, food supplies, horses, and every sort of equipment for the use of soldiers were arriving by every train. In the meantime the boys were very busy at every sort of work which chanced to fall in their way.
During the first part of their stay at the camp Ralph's wound gave him some trouble, and Alfred was always ready to wait on him, but as the wound began to heal, Ralph's restless energy made itself manifest.
"We must have something to do," he said, as he was wandering around with Alfred, one morning.
"Let us see Capt. Moreau," said Alfred, as with a sudden inspiration.