Above other sounds they could hear loud and heavy voices, as of men bent on terrorizing the peaceful little community. Of course the words they heard were German ones, showing that the speakers must indeed be the dreaded Uhlans.
They were undoubtedly galloping hither and thither, ransacking houses in search of food or anything else worth carrying off. It might be that presently some of them would even be found putting the torch to any building that failed to meet with their approval, after a hasty search.
Rod suddenly remembered something just then. It struck him forcibly, and the more he considered it the stronger did it seem to appeal to him.
He recollected that they had come upon a regiment of French zouaves making a temporary bivouac alongside the road about two miles back. If only they could be communicated with and informed of the presence of the hated Uhlans in the little French village, he felt positive they would not let the grass grow under their feet in hastening to the rescue of the small terrorized community.
But how could it be done? Rod would have given considerable for a chance to use his speedy motorcycle in this work, but there was no use thinking of such a thing, because it could never be carried out.
Perhaps from the roof of the house he might manage to attract the attention of some sentry at the camp, and by means of the Signal Corps code, which he knew very well, communicate their sad condition to the commander of the troops, and thus procure help for the frightened villagers.
“Stay here, and try to keep them out if they make an effort to break in,” he told Josh. “I’m going up to the roof and see if I can send a signal for help to that zouave regiment we noticed camping by the roadside. Here, take this, Josh, and remember that you’re defending women and children when you use it.”
“Bully for you!” cried Josh, as his hand closed upon the revolver which had been taken from the fraudulent Oscar William Tell.
Rod hurried away, and ran upon the woman of the house close by. She was looking greatly alarmed at the sudden coming of the enemy, but for all that Rod believed she would prove true grit.
“I want to get up on the roof if it’s possible,” was what he said to her; “there is a regiment of French troops camped not two miles away on the side of the hill, and if I could get in touch with them they’d come to our help. Show me the way to the trapdoor, if there is one.”