Kenneth regained his feet.
"Let's shift," he said.
"Where?"
"Anywhere. Be steady; mind where you tread, and look out for brick-bats falling on your head."
The caution was well needed. Stumbling over the mass of shattered brickwork, the lads passed through the jagged gap and gained an open space to the rear of a long range of storehouses. Even as they did so another bomb exploded, this time some distance off, though the concussion was sufficient to complete the destruction of the room in which they had been but a few moments previously.
Not only in the square but all over the town a state of panic existed. The terrified horses stampeded; the German troops, temporarily thrown into disorder, ran for shelter; while those of the civil population who did not take refuge in their cellars poured out into the streets and fled towards the open country.
"Rollo, old man, let's make a dash for it."
The idea of taking advantage of the air raid in order to effect their escape had not until that moment entered Kenneth's head. Both he and Rollo, temporarily dazed by the explosion, had thought only of getting clear of the subsiding building.
Everything was in their favour. Scaling a low brick wall, they found themselves in the company of about forty panic-stricken inhabitants. In the confusion no one noticed the two hatless lads, for before they had gone fifty yards they ran past a squad of German troops, who, under the threats of their officers, were engaged in coupling up a hose to play upon a fire kindled by the explosion of one of the destructive missiles.
"Keep with the crowd," advised Rollo. "We're safe enough. The monoplane has made off by this time."