One had found a big carving knife which he brandished as though it were a sword, and he a captain leading a charge; a second was swinging a cudgel, as though filled with a hope that it might yet be laid up against a German head; while the last of the trio had taken down a gun of the vintage of '71, which, together with its glistening sabre bayonet, had hung on the wall in memory of the good man of the house, who doubtless made the right kind of use of it in other days.

Altogether they presented quite a curious collection as they gathered there by the door, and waited to see if the enemy would carry out those loud threats to break in. Rod was reminded of accounts he had read about the patchwork army gathered together by one Falstaff in early English days, which consisted of the lame, the halt and the blind. All the same, those old fellows had the right sort of spirit, and acted as though quite willing to yield up their own lives in defense of the village.

Things were going from bad to worse outside. Smoke could easily be detected now, as if to prove that those awful threats made by the Uhlans were not idle ones; and that some cottage was already in flames.

Rod was almost counting the seconds. He found himself wondering whether the oncoming zouaves could possibly reach there before the door was broken from its hinges and the wolves without rush in to use their heavy sabres against the defenders. How long could they hold the aggressors in check? Those weak old men would be swept aside as though they were pigmies; and what could he and his two chums do against half a dozen big cavalrymen, bent on pillage?

The very first thing Rod did do was to possess himself once more of that revolver. He believed he could make better and more judicious use of such a dangerous weapon than Josh might--Josh was so rash and headstrong, once he found himself up against a dangerous situation.

The door, being very heavy, was resisting the attack of the soldiers successfully, though Rod did not plume himself on this account. He feared there were many other ways by means of which the Uhlans could accomplish their purpose and enter the house did they care to bother about looking.

Just then there arose a new cause for alarm. The good woman came crying from the other part of the building. Rod heard what she said and was able to understand, although the other two were left in the dark.

"What's happened next, Rod?" demanded Josh, with the air of a veteran; for Josh often affected to liken himself to those old worthies who, when sorely beset, never asked about the number of their foes, but where they could be found, so that they might attack them hip and thigh.

"She says they've set fire to the house, and that the whole rear of the same is already blazing fiercely," Rod explained.

Hanky Panky's face was a study. Of course it was not really _fear_ that gripped him so fiercely; but nevertheless the boy had a peaked look about the eyes, and watched Rod eagerly, as though hoping the other would eventually find some way of extricating them from this new predicament.

"Now here's a pretty kettle of fish," growled Josh; "house afire, and we can't even rush out to throw water on the flames, just because there's a lot of cowardly skunks waiting to spit us like we were fowls. Whee!

what're we going to do about it, Rod, tell me? I'll sally out and try to create a diversion, if you say the word."

Perhaps Josh honestly meant it, but Rod only laughed at him.

"Don't be silly, Josh," was what the other said; "you'd have about as much chance against those half-dozen Uhlans as a baby might. All we can do is to hold tight, and hope the zouaves will get along before it's too late. But if they do try to smash their way in we're going to fight; hear that?"

"You just bet we are; every time," said Josh, who had found a heavy poker and was swinging it around in a way that made poor Hanky Panky duck every time it barely missed his devoted head.

He had hardly finished saying those few expressive words than there was an awful crash, and the front door, struck by some sort of battering ram, seemed to be partly knocked from its hinges. The Uhlans were apparently determined to enter; and the more opposition they met the greater their desire seemed to become.

CHAPTER XVIII.

THE COMING OF THE ZOUAVES.

"Why don't you give them a shot, Rod?" Hanky Panky was heard calling just then, for apparently things had reached a crisis, and he expected seeing one of the raiders come pushing through the opening the next thing.

Rod was only holding back so as to keep his fire to the last extremity.

The boy was pale, and his teeth were set, but there was a blaze in his eyes that boded no good for the first Uhlan who ventured to try to enter.

Although the Motorcycle Boys in the start decided not to take sides if such a thing could be avoided, they had found it impossible to control their feelings in the matter. The cause of the Allies seemed to be closer to American ideals than the militarist methods of the Kaiser's men; and by degrees Rod and his chums had come to sympathize with the French and Belgians until finally ready to openly declare that they were for them heart and soul.

Rod hated the thought of shedding blood, even though his own life, as well as those of his chums, seemed in deadly danger. Only as a very last resort was Rod willing to use that weapon which had come into his possession so strangely; and in his mind he had already determined to only wound, if such a choice seemed possible.

The Uhlans without were exultant over the success they had already attained. To continue their work and presently smash the door completely in, they drew back the ladder which they were using as a battering ram.

Rod saw his chance to look out through the vent. What he saw was not of a rea.s.suring nature. There were five stout men in the uniform of the reckless rough riders belonging to the German army; and they were swinging that heavy ladder in a way that showed what delight they experienced in just such work of destruction.

Rod did not cla.s.s them as different from the soldiers of any army raiding through the enemy's country. In fact he was not bothering his head just then making comparisons, for he had enough to do in figuring how he might further delay the crisis so as to give the coming zouaves a little more time in which to arrive.

"I guess it's got to be done!" the boy was muttering to himself as he peeped through that narrow slit of an opening and saw that the pack had about reached the end of their swing, so that the forward rush was about to begin.

It was easy enough to pick out the man who seemed to be the head and brains of the bunch. He was of course in the van, and by his actions as well as by his loudly shouted exclamations exerted a most important influence on the others. In fact he served as the pilot of the little group; when he gave the word they surged forward with whoops, meaning this time to finish smashing that objectionable door.

Why the Uhlans did not attempt to force an entrance through the rear of the house, which was absolutely undefended, Rod never could tell.

Perhaps they were of the "one-idea" cla.s.s of men, who, having made up their minds to do a thing in a certain way, could not deviate from the plan they had laid out.

Rod saw his chance to break up that next a.s.sault if only his aim were true. He thrust his weapon forward, finding plenty of room for his purpose. While he did not claim to be much of a shot with such a clumsy weapon as he now held, at the same time the boy knew considerable about firearms in general, and that counted for a whole lot.

Besides, the distance was ridiculously scant, and really Rod would have been deeply mortified had he missed his aim under the circ.u.mstances.

He meant to wound the leader by shooting him in the leg, and with that intention in view aimed low when pulling the trigger. The five Uhlans had actually started on the run at the time, so that they might strike the tottering door a tremendous blow, and complete matters with one fell swoop, which would give them entrance to the house.

Josh, who was peeping over Rod's shoulder, gave a howl of delight when through the little puff of smoke that followed the feeble crack of the revolver he saw the big leader suddenly crumple up, and, falling in a heap, bring every one of his companions down in a struggling ma.s.s.

"A great shot, Rod, a magnificent hit!" was the burden of his shout; "pinked the whole five at a clip! Splendid work, let me tell you, Rod!

However did you manage to do it?"

Apparently, Josh had allowed his enthusiasm to run away with his better judgment, for he imagined that in some mysterious manner the missile from Rod's weapon had split in sections, and scattered like a load of bird shot, bringing down victims by the wholesale.

However that might be, Josh speedily realized his error, for a number of the soldiers were already struggling to their feet. Only one remained on the ground, and he was hugging his left leg as though in sudden anguish, a fact that sent a qualm of regret through Rod's heart.

He hoped they would draw off now, and give up the attempt for a little time at least. True, there were five more charges in his gun, and only four of the Uhlans, so that it seemed as though he might be equal to the task of holding them in check, but one victim was enough to satisfy him.

"They're going to try it again, Rod!" cried Josh, shrilly.

He was trembling violently with the excitement, and his face had taken on the look of one wrought up to the fighting pitch. To tell the truth, Josh had but a single regret just then, which was that he did not possess the mate of the weapon his chum gripped in his hand.

"And I'd never have bothered just peppering 'em in their legs, either,"

he afterwards affirmed, when talking matters over with Hanky Panky; "they were meaning to get us, and if the shoe happened to be on the other foot who would be to blame?"

When Rod saw that the four men once more picked up the heavy ladder and started to swing it forward he realized that it was up to him to try again. By gradually reducing the number of their foes he must in the end check their drive.

So he coolly picked out the next victim. As before, it had to be one of those in front, so as to bring confusion to the charge, as the rest were bound to trip over him should he fall.

All this while there arose from different quarters loud outcries and shouts of laughter from the spoilers, filled with the mad desire to inflict a reign of terror and frightfulness upon the natives. Shots were also heard at intervals, women screamed, children shrieked, dogs barked, and taken in all it was a combination of sounds never to be forgotten by those who happened to be in the little French village.

Well, Rod was just as successful with that second shot of his as he had been on the former occasion. With the report of his weapon he could see the man start, and give every evidence of being hard hit. He managed to keep from falling, however, being sustained by his grip on the ladder, as well as the impetus of his companions' advance.

It might have altered things somewhat had Rod been given an opportunity to discharge a third shot, this time selecting the other fellow in the van; but before he could really grasp the immensity of this idea it was too late.

The heavy ladder struck the already weakened door, and such was the force with which it was hurled forward that it tore the latter from its hinges and sent it to the floor, the end of the ladder projecting several feet into the room.

Rod, seeing what was about to happen, had swept his two comrades back so that none of them chanced to be struck by the falling door. There was now a wide gap, and the three uninjured Uhlans might easily rush through this. They would find, however, that the resistance of the inmates did not end with the breaking in of the door; for there was Rod holding himself in readiness to shoot again, Josh with his upraised poker, Hanky Panky also in line with a club, and the old man who had secured the revered gun that had hung on the wall since '71, waiting for this day, had its sword bayonet adjusted so as to pin the first German who dared venture across that threshold.

Fortunately there was no necessity for further action on the part of the valiant defenders of the village home, for just at that moment there arose a series of the wildest shouts Rod had ever heard. They were shouting in unison, those zouaves, as they spread through the village looking for Uhlans to spit upon their hungry bayonets. Hanky Panky in times past had more than once ventured to make fun of certain phrases which he had heard spoken in French; but he was now ready to confess that there was no language on the face of the earth to be compared with the French as falling from the bearded lips of men who wore those baggy red trousers of the famous zouaves.