Here there was a larger crowd. There always was a small crowd about the gates, for the number of Belgians who still refused to work was considerable, and these men passed much of their time outside, gloomily scanning the many evidences of abounding work, and discussing in low tones the progress of the war.
It wanted only twenty minutes to noon, and at that hour Max knew he would take his last look upon the things of this world. It was hard, he could not help thinking, but——
"Get ready!"
Those words, spoken in English, sounded in his ears. They seemed uttered in the sing-song tones he knew so well, in which the starter of a rowing contest prepared to send off the crews waiting in eager readiness before him. Max looked curiously about him. He knew he must be dreaming, and yet he had not been conscious at that moment of dreaming of the old days at Hawkesley. How far away they seemed—and how jolly—he would never know such glorious times again. A fresh wave of new regrets passed through his mind. It was——
"Are you ready?"
This time Max looked more sharply about him. He was not dreaming, he was sure now. The words had certainly been uttered, and again in the sing-song of the Hawkesley starter. No one but Dale could have uttered them, and Dale it must be. Where was he?
A man carrying a big packing-case was at the side of the road on his right a dozen yards or so ahead. The packing-case hid his face, but his gait seemed somewhat familiar even while moving under his burden. He was slanting towards the prisoner's escort, the foremost of whom had now reached the outer edge of the big crowd assembled outside the gates.
What did the words mean? What but that he was to act as though the greatest contest of his life was before him—aye, one with his very life for the prize! The zest for life, the deep-rooted objection to give up his task half done, the old sporting instinct to battle to the very finish, all combined to brace Max's nerve to a point at which nothing was impossible. Ready?—aye, he was ready and more than ready—all he waited for was the signal he knew was close at hand.
Suddenly something dark flew through the air. Ere it touched the ground another and another followed. Three tremendous explosions took place at the very feet of the men of his escort in front of him. The officer and four of the men fell to the ground, and escort and crowd surged back and away in all directions.
"Go!"