“It’s getting worse all the while, Jack!” he called out.
“Yes, as more guns come into play,” replied the other. “This must be one of the drives we’ve heard so much about.”
“But we said we believed nothing could push those British chaps out of the trenches they’d dug themselves into,” said Amos.
“I don’t know how it is,” Jack told him, “but some way has been found by the Kaiser’s men to break through. Once that happens, you know, the whole line of defense crumples up like an egg shell.”
“Perhaps they’re using gas shells,” suggested Amos, for they had heard some talk along those lines from soldiers they had met returning wounded from the front.
“I wouldn’t put it past them,” said Jack, “you know that as chemists the Germans lead the world. They firmly believe they are fighting for their existence as a nation. Are you all ready, Amos?”
Upon the other replying in the affirmative they left the little room and made their way to the lower part of the house. Here a single lamp burned and by its meagre light they discovered the old burgomaster, who looked more solemn than ever.
“The Germans must have broken through the British line of defense, which was only two miles away from here,” he told them, gravely, “and I fear it will mean the ruin of all we have left, for the fighting draws closer all the while, and they must soon be among the houses.”
“Some of the people have gone away,” Jack remarked, “and we think we ought to get out, too, while there is time.”
“Please yourselves, young messieurs, and it is wise of you, I must say, though if you choose to remain there is room in the cellar below.”