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The Day of Wrath A Story of 1914   By: (1863-1928)

The Day of Wrath A Story of 1914 by Louis Tracy

First Page:

THE DAY OF WRATH

A STORY OF 1914

BY LOUIS TRACY

Author of "The Wings of the Morning," "Flower of the Gorse," etc., etc.

NEW YORK EDWARD J. CLODE PUBLISHER

COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY EDWARD J. CLODE All Rights Reserved

PREFACE

This book demands no explanatory word. But I do wish to assure the reader that every incident in its pages casting discredit on the invaders of Belgium is founded on actual fact. I refer those who may doubt the truth of this sweeping statement to the official records published by the Governments of Great Britain, France, and Belgium.

L. T.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I THE LAVA STREAM 1 II IN THE VORTEX 23 III FIRST BLOOD 39 IV THE TRAGEDY OF VISÉ 58 V BILLETS 75 VI THE FIGHT IN THE MILL 94 VII THE WOODMAN'S HUT 111 VIII A RESPITE 129 IX AN EXPOSITION OF GERMAN METHODS 147 X ANDENNE 166 XI A TRAMP ACROSS BELGIUM 186 XII AT THE GATES OF DEATH 206 XIII THE WOODEN HORSE OF TROY 226 XIV THE MARNE AND AFTER 246 XV "CARRY ON!" 264

CHAPTER I

THE LAVA STREAM

"For God's sake, if you are an Englishman, help me!"

That cry of despair, so subdued yet piercing in its intensity, reached Arthur Dalroy as he pressed close on the heels of an all powerful escort in Lieutenant Karl von Halwig, of the Prussian Imperial Guard, at the ticket barrier of the Friedrich Strasse Station on the night of Monday, 3rd August 1914.

An officer's uniform is a passe partout in Germany; the showy uniform of the Imperial Guard adds awe to authority. It may well be doubted if any other insignia of rank could have passed a companion in civilian attire so easily through the official cordon which barred the chief railway station at Berlin that night to all unauthorised persons.

Von Halwig was in front, impartially cursing and shoving aside the crowd of police and railway men. A gigantic ticket inspector, catching sight of the Guardsman, bellowed an order to "clear the way;" but a general officer created a momentary diversion by choosing that forbidden exit. Von Halwig's heels clicked, and his right hand was raised in a salute, so Dalroy was given a few seconds wherein to scrutinise the face of the terrified woman who had addressed him. He saw that she was young, an Englishwoman, and undoubtedly a lady by her speech and garb.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

"Get me into a train for the Belgian frontier. I have plenty of money, but these idiots will not even allow me to enter the station."

He had to decide in an instant. He had every reason to believe that a woman friendless and alone, especially a young and good looking one, was far safer in Berlin where some thousands of Britons and Americans had been caught in the lava wave of red war now flowing unrestrained from the Danube to the North Sea than in the train which would start for Belgium within half an hour. But the tearful indignation in the girl's voice even her folly in describing as "idiots" the hectoring jacks in office, any one of whom might have understood her led impulse to triumph over saner judgment.

"Come along! quick!" he muttered. "You're my cousin, Evelyn Fane!"

With a self control that was highly creditable, the young lady thrust a hand through his arm. In the other hand she carried a reticule. The action surprised Dalroy, though feminine intuition had only displayed common sense.

"Have you any luggage?" he said... Continue reading book >>




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