The barge was entering a tunnel--one of several by which the canal was led underneath the town. Malcolm welcomed this new phase of the voyage in inland waters. The air was comparatively cool, a pleasing relief from the hot sunshine in the open; but before long the disadvantages of the tunnel made themselves apparent.
The din was terrific. The sound of the grunting and groaning of the tug's noisy engine was magnified tenfold, echoing and re-echoing along the domed expanse, while clouds of sulphurous smoke permeated everything. Yet, the while, there was the comforting thought that, unless the general direction of the canal had changed, every revolution of the tug's propellers was bearing the fugitives nearer the frontier and freedom.
On emerging from the tunnel the string of barges stopped alongside a wharf. The tug, its mission accomplished, cast off and steamed away.
Malcolm felt anxious. Was this basin in the heart of a populous town to be the journey's end for the flotilla? If so, the brothers were in a very tight corner indeed.
Peter, too, was sharing in Malcolm's unspoken thoughts. More so when an unmistakably military command was issued at a few feet distant.
Peering through a gap in the barrier of lumps of coal the New Zealanders saw a corporal and three men armed with rifles standing on the wharf, with a crowd of interested spectators lounging in the background. Did it mean that the Huns had a suspicion that some of the escaped prisoners from Düren Camp had found a refuge on one of the barges?
Another order, and the soldiers stepped on board. The metal butts of the rifles clattered on the planks, and a spirited conversation ensued between the corporal--occasionally aided by his men--and the three women comprising the barge's crew.
During the conversation a lean and decrepit horse, led by a boy of about ten or eleven years of age, arrived at the wharf. In a leisurely manner one of the crew went forward and threw a rope, the end of which was fastened to the animal's traces. Most of this the New Zealanders could not see; while presently they heard the wretched beast's hoofs slipping on the cobbles as the barge slowly gathered way.
Although the soldiers remained on board, the Carrs' fears were not fully confirmed. The barge was about to enter another tunnel that happened to pass directly under a large and important munitions factory. With characteristic caution and forethought the Huns left nothing undone to safeguard their proceedings; hence, in the case of barges using the subterranean waterway, a corporal's guard was placed upon each during the journey through the tunnel.
Contrary to the New Zealanders' expectations, the barge, beyond stopping to land the guard, did not tie up for the night within the limits of the town; but, maintaining a two-miles-an-hour pace, held on until the lengthening shadows announced the close of another day.