The fury of the German military governor and his staff at the destruction of the largest workshop in the Durend concern could hardly have been greater had the town under their charge successfully revolted. For the fifth time at least the Durend works—which the Germans had looked upon as peculiarly their own—had been the scene of successful blows against their authority. These exploits were too extensive and too public to be hidden, and the Walloon workmen of Liége—never a docile race—had been progressively encouraged to commit similar acts elsewhere, or to resist passively the pressure of their German taskmasters.
In the view of the German governor it was imperative that a blow, and a stunning one, should be struck at this tendency among the Liége workmen. Had the authors of this latest outrage been captured, an example would have been easy. Unfortunately, they had again escaped, and in a manner so impudent and daring that the exasperation of the Germans was greatly intensified. Rewards had been offered before and had proved fruitless. On this occasion the governor resolved to sweep aside what he termed trifles, and to use firmly and pitilessly a weapon of terror already in his hands.
The Durend yards had been entirely closed the moment intelligence had reached M. Schenk that suspicious persons had broken into one of the idle workshops. After the fire all workmen found within the yard had been closely examined, and those definitely known to have Belgian sympathies placed under arrest. These men numbered thirty-nine, and it was by using them as hostages that the German governor intended to strike terror into the hearts of the Walloons. They were hurried before a military court, briefly examined, and found guilty of conspiring against the German military occupation. Sentence of death followed as a matter of course.
Max and Dale had reached their lodging without any particular difficulty, after again taking refuge in the waters of the Meuse. They were tired out with their all-night exploit, and, removing their wet garments, tumbled heavily into bed. It was thus late in the afternoon before they heard from the landlord of their house the news that the German governor intended to execute all the Belgian workmen caught within the precincts of the Durend yards. Even then they could hardly bring themselves to believe it.
"It's too rascally even for the Germans, Max," declared Dale at last. "It's probably only a threat to force one of them to give away his fellows."
"Maybe, Dale, but I know enough of the Germans to believe that if they don't succeed they will not hesitate to carry out the sentence."
"The cold-blooded murderers!" cried Dale hotly.
"Yes," replied Max in a strained voice, as he began to pace slowly up and down the length of their room. "Yes, they are; but shall not we have really had a hand in their deaths?"
"Not one jot," cried Dale emphatically. "No particle of blame can be laid at our door if they are foully done to death."
"Had we not so harassed the Germans, these men would not be under sentence of death," Max went on, half to himself. "It seems hard that they must die for our success."