They found all the village gathered in front of the little town-hall.On its steps stood the Burgomeister and the village priest, and near them, still sitting astride his foam-flecked steed, was one of the soldiers who had brought the alarm.His two companions were already far beyond Meer, flying over the road to arouse the villages which lay farther to the east.The church-bell suddenly ceased its metallic clatter, and while its deep tones still throbbed through the night air, the wondering and frightened people crowded about the steps in breathless suspense.
The Burgomeister raised his hand.Even in the moonlight it could be seen that he was pale.He spoke quickly."Neighbors," he said, "there is bad news! the German army is on our borders! It is necessary for every man of military age and training to join the colors at once in case the army is needed for defense.There is not a moment to lose.This messenger is from headquarters.He will tell you what you are to do."The soldier now spoke for the first time."Men of Belgium," he cried, "your services are needed for your country and your King!
The men of Meer are to report at once to the army headquarters at Malines.Do not stop even to change your clothing! We are not yet at war, and our good King Albert still hopes to avert it by an armed peace, but the neutrality of Belgium is at stake, and we must be ready to protect it at any cost, and at an instant's notice.Go at once to the Brussels gate of Malines.An officer will meet you there and tell you what to do.I must ride on to carry the alarm to Putte." He wheeled his horse as he spoke, and, turning in his saddle, lifted his sword and cried, "Vive le Roi!""Vive le Roi! Vive la Belgique!" came in an answering shout from the people of Meer, and he was gone.
There was a moment of stunned silence as he rode away; then a sound of women weeping.The Burgomeister came down from the steps of the town-hall, said farewell to his wife and children, and took his place at the head of the little group of men which was already beginning form in marching order.The priest moved about among his people with words of comfort.
Father Van Hove turned to his wife, and to Jan and Marie, who were clinging to her skirts."It is only a bad dream, my little ones," he said, patting their heads tenderly; "we shall wake up some day.And you, my wife, do not despair! I shall soon return, no doubt! Our good King will yet save us from war.You must finish the harvest alone--but--" "Fall in!" cried the voice of the Burgomeister, and Father Van Hove kissed his wife and children and stepped forward.
Mother Van Hove bravely checked her rising sobs."We shall go with you to Malines, at any rate," she said firmly.And as the little group of men started forward along the yellow road, she and many more women and children of the village marched, away with them in the gray twilight which precedes the coming of the dawn.The priest went with his people, praying for them as he walked, in a voice that shook with feeling.
The sky was red in the east and the larks were already singing over the quiet fields when the men of Meer, followed by their wives and children, presented themselves at the Brussels gate of the city.
