He moved to a table, and with pens and pencils made a rough diagram of the position.
"They gave up Gumbinnen without a fight, and formed in a half circle behind. They had so few men there that it was an invitation to us to try to outflank them. Our right could sweep out and draw in behind their left-so. And then their supporting troops could outflank our right, in turn, and it would be caught between two fires! They have fewer troops than we in East Prussia to-day, but ours are separated, while they risked all to bring all theirs together at this one point and left the south unguarded from Mlawa to Liok! Oh, it was daring-Napoleon might have planned that!"
"I see," said Fred. "Then when they had won here, they could have used their railway to move troops southward?"
"Exactly so! A hundred and fifty thousand men all together can beat a hundred thousand, if all else is equal. But one army of a hundred thousand can beat two of seventy-five thousand apiece, meeting them at different times. So our attack will stop. We shall leave a covering force here at Gumbinnen-or perhaps all our troops here will stay, but on the defensive, while others are rushed up from Grodno to outflank them, not on their right, as they hoped, but on their extreme left!"
He was silent for a moment.
"I need one man here," he said. "One man, to keep the engine running for the dynamo. Everyone else must leave this house. You, Boris Petrovitch, most of all-you and your cousin. I am responsible to your father for your safety for it is through my fault that the plans were badly made."
"But why must you stay, Ivan?" asked Boris.
"I must stay until I am ordered away," said Ivan. "But it will not be safe here after daylight-perhaps there will be trouble even before that. Yes, I think it will be very soon now."
"Well, I think I shall stay," said Fred.
"No," said Ivan. "Listen! If you go now, quickly, you can get away in the car. Here is the road you must follow." He took a map and pointed. "See-swing west first, and then south-far south. So you will be safe from the Germans, for they have abandoned that section except for the railway from Insterberg to Liok. That is guarded, but thinly. In the car are two long coats such as the German officers wear, and two helmets. They are under the rear seat. Put those on, and you will pass most of their sentries, if you should encounter them."
"If he says we must go, we must do it," said Boris, quickly. "I should like to stay, too, Fred, but he is right. We can do no good here, and if you are caught it will be very bad. It would not matter with me, for they would only treat me as a prisoner."
Fred was still unwilling. He had not Boris's Russian readiness to accept whatever came, but there was something about Ivan that convinced him that argument would be useless.
"Go now," said Ivan, "and God go with you! I will see to it that Vladimir and the others follow."
And so Fred went through the tunnel again, this time with Boris. He wondered if he would ever see this place again. CHAPTER XV
A DASH THROUGH THE NIGHT
Both boys were startled when they reached the open air again to observe how the din of the battle to the east had increased. They paused for a moment to stare at one another.
"That is real war," said Boris. "Not like the skirmish here when the Cossacks came."
"The Germans are giving way on purpose, of course, if Ivan is right-and it seems to me he must be," said Fred. "I am afraid to think of what will happen to him."
"I do not like to think of it, either," said Boris, "but it is fate. He has his work to do, and it is all for Russia-for God and the Czar! I have always been taught that we can die only once, and that it is a holy thing to die for Russia."
"Yes, but it is better to live for Russia than to die for her, if it is possible," said Fred. "Come! We have no time to lose, I suppose."
They approached the car in a death-like silence. It was still where Fred had left it. There was a little delay in the start. Both Fred and Boris had driven cars, but they were not familiar with this one, and it seemed a good idea to learn the controls before they started. But in a few moments they were off. The car rode easily, and the motor was very powerful. It was a silent one, too, considering its great power. Fred took the wheel first.
"We can take it in turns," he said. "Get some sleep, if you can, Boris. I'll rouse you if there is any need of that. And I'll be glad to rest myself, after a time. Just now I'm too excited to sleep, even if there were no especial reason for keeping awake."
There was something so wonderful, so weird that it was almost ghostly, about that ride in its beginning. Behind them was the din of the heavy fighting between them and Gumbinnen. The sky was streaked with the flashes of searchlights, and the vibration of the cannon beat against their ears incessantly. Yet the road before them, as it lay like a white ribbon in the path of the great headlight, was absolutely empty. They passed houses, went through villages. And in none of the houses was there a light or a sign of life. The whole countryside had been abandoned.
"It reminds me of things I've read about the plague in olden times," thought Fred. "People used to run away like that then, and leave a dead countryside behind them. It would almost look more natural if there were signs of fighting."
There were to be plenty all about here soon. But that night there was nothing, save the inferno of noise and the dazzling points of light in the sky behind them, to suggest anything save the deepest peace. Grain stood in some of the fields. In others, where the harvesting had begun, there were reaping machines. But despite the noise, there was a strange and unearthly silence. Fred had driven at night through lonely country before, and he could remember the way dogs at almost every house had burst into furious barking as the car approached. Now there were no dogs! It was a trifling thing to think of now, but just then it seemed to Fred that the absence of the dogs meant even more than the dark, silent houses themselves.
The houses did look as if their owners might be asleep within, but the dogs would have barked their alarm. And so that came to be the symbol of the flight of the people to him.
They had many miles to go. After a couple of hours Fred changed seats with Boris, and for a time dozed, though he scarcely slept. However, he did get a good rest, and when they came near to the stretch of road that Ivan had told them would mark the crisis of the trip, both boys were in good condition for the test. They slowed down at the sound of an engine's whistle, the first nearby noise that had come to their ears since they had left the parsonage. It startled them tremendously at first, but then they remembered Ivan's warning.
"There is one place where, for about four miles, the road runs very close to the railway," he had said. "The Germans will have patrols all along the railway line, but there is no reason why they should pay any attention to you. Be watchful-that is the vital thing. And especially so when you begin to descend a long hill. At the bottom of that hill the railway crosses your road, and that culvert will be watched with especial care. After that you will find the way clear, for our nearest outposts should not be more than a mile or so beyond the railway there. We would have seized the line before, except that until we had straightened our front in that quarter it would have been useless to do it."
The whistle that they heard warned them that they were getting near to this dangerous stretch of road, and in a few moments the sight of a train, sparks flying from the smokestack of the engine, gave them visual proof as well. Then for a time they ran along parallel with the tracks. Fires were burning along the railway at intervals of about a hundred and fifty yards, and at times, in the firelight, they could see a dark figure moving slowly.
"Heaven knows what this bugle means!" said Fred, as they drew into line with the tracks. "But if we sound it they may make up their minds that we're all right-and I'm not anxious for them to get curious about us."