He pointed to a monoplane gliding gracefully at an altitude of about five hundred feet. He could just distinguish a tricolour painted on each tip of the main plane. A desultory but increasing rifle-fire announced its departure, and, unruffled, the air-craft sailed serenely out of sight.
"Pretty effective weapon," remarked Kenneth, vainly endeavouring to wrench one of the darts from the floor. "They must hit with terrific force. I wonder how they were discharged?"
"Simply dropped by the hundred, I should imagine," replied Rollo. "The force of gravity is sufficient to give them a tremendous velocity after dropping a few hundred feet. I guess they've knocked these fellows' time-table out."
The drivers and several cavalrymen had now emerged from their hiding-places, and were carrying their less-fortunate comrades from the scene. A few of the latter were moaning, but most of them had been slain outright. The "flechettes", or steel darts, had in several cases struck their victims on the head, and had passed completely through their bodies. In addition to about thirty casualties, nearly a hundred horses were either killed on the spot or were so badly injured that they had to be dispatched. Several of the motor-wagons, too, were temporarily disabled by the terrible missiles. Clearly it was out of the question that the convoy could proceed that day.
Darkness set in. The work of repairing the damaged vehicles still proceeded briskly by the aid of the powerful acetylene lamps fixed upon the parapets of the surrounding buildings. Fresh animals were being brought up to take the horse-wagons away, in order to make room for the artificers to proceed with their work. The square echoed and re-echoed to the clanging of hammers and the rasping of saws, and the guttural exclamations of the workmen.
Kenneth and Rollo had no thoughts of going to bed. Usually, as soon as it was dark they would throw themselves upon their straw mattresses, for lights were not allowed them. But now the excitement, increased by contrast to their monotonous existence, banished all idea of sleep.
Crash! A blaze of vivid light that out-brillianced the concentrated glare of the lamps flashed skywards, followed almost immediately by a deafening report. Windows were shattered, tiles flew from the roofs. The walls of the room in which the two lads were standing shook violently.
"A shell!" exclaimed Rollo.
"A bomb!" corrected Kenneth, for in the brief lull that followed could be heard the noise of an air-craft. Either the same or another French airman was honouring the Germans at Verviers with a second visit.
Twenty seconds later another explosion occurred at the back of the building. With a terrific crash one of the outer walls was blown in; a portion of the roof collapsed; the floor, partially ripped up, swayed like the deck of a vessel in the trough of an angry sea.