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 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 VISE                          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.

"Nothing beyond this tiny bag. It was hopeless to think of----"

Von Halwig turned at the barrier to insure his English friend's safe
passage.

"Hallo!" he cried. Evidently he was taken aback by the unexpected
addition to the