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diff --git a/28295-8.txt b/28295-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..7097cd8 --- /dev/null +++ b/28295-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,14985 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Maids of Paradise, by Robert W. (Robert +William) Chambers + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Maids of Paradise + + +Author: Robert W. (Robert William) Chambers + + + +Release Date: March 9, 2009 [eBook #28295] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAIDS OF PARADISE*** + + +E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online +Distributed Proofreading Canada Team (http://www.pgdpcanada.net) + + + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 28295-h.htm or 28295-h.zip: + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/2/9/28295/28295-h/28295-h.htm) + or + (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/2/9/28295/28295-h.zip) + + + + + +THE MAIDS OF PARADISE + +A Novel + +by + +ROBERT W. CHAMBERS + +Author of "Cardigan" "The Conspirators" "Maid-at-Arms" etc. + +Illustrated + + + + + + + +[Illustration: "'LOOK THERE!' SHE CRIED, IN TERROR" [See p. 81]] + + + +[Illustration] + +New York and London +Harper & Brothers +Publishers 1903 + +Copyright, 1902, by Robert W. Chambers. +All rights reserved. + +Published September, 1903. + + + + +PREFACE + + +As far as the writer knows, no treasure-trains were actually sent to +the port of Lorient from the arsenal at Brest. The treasures remained +at Brest. + +Concerning the German armored cruiser _Augusta_, the following are the +facts: About the middle of December she forced the blockade at +Wilhelmshafen and ran for Ireland, where, owing to the complaisance of +the British authorities, she was permitted to coal. + +From there she steamed towards Brest, capturing a French merchant +craft off that port, another near Rochefort, and finally a third. That +ended her active career during the war; a French frigate chased her +into the port of Vigo and kept her there. + +To conclude, certain localities and certain characters have been +sufficiently disguised to render recognition improbable. This is +proper because "The Lizard" is possibly alive to-day, as are also the +mayor of Paradise, Sylvia Elven, Jacqueline, and Speed, the latter +having barely escaped death in the _Virginius_ expedition. The +original of Buckhurst now lives in New York, and remains a type whose +rarity is its only recommendation. + +Those who believe they recognize the Countess de Vassart are doubtless +in error. Mornac, long dead, is safe in his disguise; Tric-Trac was +executed on the Place de la Roquette, and celebrated in doggerel by an +unspeakable ballad writer. There remains Scarlett; dead or alive, I +wish him well. + + ROBERT W. CHAMBERS. +Ormond, Florida, _Feb. 7_, 1902. + + + + +[Illustration: To E.M.C.] + + + + +CONTENTS + + CHAP. PAGE + I. At the Telegraph 3 + II. The Government Interferes 21 + III. La Trappe 34 + IV. Prisoners 50 + V. The Immortals 65 + VI. The Game Begins 87 + VII. A Struggle Foreshadowed 110 + VIII. A Man to Let 136 + IX. The Road to Paradise 159 + X. The Town-Crier 171 + XI. In Camp 180 + XII. Jacqueline 195 + XIII. Friends 207 + XIV. The Path of the Lizard 229 + XV. Forewarned 253 + XVI. A Restless Man 265 + XVII. The Circus 280 + XVIII. A Guest-Chamber 303 + XIX. Trécourt Garden 318 + XX. The Semaphore 339 + XXI. Like Her Ancestors 353 + XXII. The Secret 381 + + + + +ILLUSTRATIONS + + "'LOOK THERE!' SHE CRIED, IN TERROR" _Frontispiece_ + "'ACROSS THAT MEADOW,' SAID THE YOUNG GIRL" _Facing p_. 22 + "TO RIGHT AND LEFT, PRUSSIAN LANCERS WERE RIDING" " 62 + "A COMPANY OF TURCOS CAME UP" " 74 + "'HALT! HALT!' HE SHOUTED" " 84 + "EVERY BRIDGE WAS GUARDED" " 124 + "SISTERS OF CHARITY WERE GIVING FIRST AID" " 132 + "I WAS ON MY KNEES" " 298 + + + + +PART FIRST + + + + +THE MAIDS OF PARADISE + + + + +I + +AT THE TELEGRAPH + + +On the third day of August, 1870, I left Paris in search of John +Buckhurst. + +On the 4th of August I lost all traces of Mr. Buckhurst near the +frontier, in the village of Morsbronn. The remainder of the day I +spent in acquiring that "general information" so dear to the +officials in Paris whose flimsy systems of intelligence had already +begun to break down. + +On August 5th, about eight o'clock in the morning, the military +telegraph instrument in the operator's room over the temporary +barracks of the Third Hussars clicked out the call for urgency, not +the usual military signal, but a secret sequence understood only by +certain officers of the Imperial Military Police. The operator on duty +therefore stepped into my room and waited while I took his place at +the wire. + +I had been using the code-book that morning, preparing despatches for +Paris, and now, at the first series of significant clicks, I dropped +my left middle finger on the key and repeated the signal to Paris, +using the required variations. Then I rose, locked the door, and +returned to the table. + +"Who is this?" came over the wire in the secret code; and I answered +at once: "Inspector of Foreign Division, Imperial Military Police, on +duty at Morsbronn, Alsace." + +After considerable delay the next message arrived in the Morse code: +"Is that you, Scarlett?" + +And I replied: "Yes. Who are you? Why do you not use the code? Repeat +the code signal and your number." + +The signal was repeated, then came the message: "This is the +Tuileries. You have my authority to use the Morse code for the sake of +brevity. Do you understand? I am Jarras. The Empress is here." +Instantly reassured by the message from Colonel Jarras, head of the +bureau to which I was attached, I answered that I understood. Then the +telegrams began to fly, all in the Morse code: + +_Jarras._ "Have you caught Buckhurst?" + +_I._ "No." + +_Jarras._ "How did he get away?" + +_I._ "There's confusion enough on the frontier to cover the escape of +a hundred thieves." + +_Jarras._ "Your reply alarms the Empress. State briefly the present +position of the First Corps." + +_I._ "The First Corps still occupies the heights in a straight line +about seven kilometres long; the plateau is covered with vineyards. +Two small rivers are in front of us; the Vosges are behind us; the +right flank pivots on Morsbronn, the left on Neehwiller; the centre +covers Wörth. We have had forty-eight hours' heavy rain." + +_Jarras._ "Where are the Germans?" + +_I._ "Precise information not obtainable at headquarters of the First +Corps." + +_Jarras._ "Does the Marshal not know where the Germans are?" + +_I._ "Marshal MacMahon does not know definitely." + +_Jarras._ "Does the Marshal not employ his cavalry? Where are they?" + +_I._ "Septeuil's cavalry of the second division lie between +Elsasshausen and the Grosserwald; Michel's brigade of heavy cavalry +camps at Eberbach; the second division of cavalry of the reserve, +General Vicomte de Bonnemain, should arrive to-night and go into +bivouac between Reichshofen and the Grosserwald." + +There was a long pause; I lighted a cigar and waited. After a while +the instrument began again: + +_Jarras._ "The Empress desires to know where the château called La +Trappe is." + +_I._ "La Trappe is about four kilometres from Morsbronn, near the +hamlet of Trois-Feuilles." + +_Jarras._ "It is understood that Madame de Vassart's group of +socialists are about to leave La Trappe for Paradise, in Morbihan. It +is possible that Buckhurst has taken refuge among them. Therefore you +will proceed to La Trappe. Do you understand?" + +_I._ "Perfectly." + +_Jarras._ "If Buckhurst is found you will bring him to Paris at once. +Shoot him if he resists arrest. If the community at La Trappe has not +been warned of a possible visit from us, you will find and arrest the +following individuals: + +"Claude Tavernier, late professor of law, Paris School of Law; + +"Achille Bazard, ex-instructor in mathematics, Fontainebleau +Artillery School; + +"Dr. Leo Delmont, ex-interne, Charity Hospital, Paris; + +"Mlle. Sylvia Elven, lately of the Odéon; + +"The Countess de Vassart, well known for her eccentricities. + +"You will affix the government seals to the house as usual; you will +then escort the people named to the nearest point on the Belgian +frontier. The Countess de Vassart usually dresses like a common +peasant. Look out that she does not slip through your fingers. Repeat +your instructions." I repeated them from my memoranda. + +There was a pause, then click! click! the instrument gave the code +signal that the matter was ended, and I repeated the signal, opened my +code-book, and began to translate the instructions into cipher for +safety's sake. + +When I had finished and had carefully destroyed my first pencilled +memoranda, the steady bumping of artillery passing through the street +under the windows drew my attention. + +It proved to be the expected batteries of the reserve going into park, +between the two brigades of Raoult's division of infantry. I +telegraphed the news to the observatory on the Col du Pigeonnier, then +walked back to the window and looked out. + +It had begun to rain again; down the solitary street of Morsbronn the +artillery rolled, jolting; cannoneers, wrapped in their wet, gray +overcoats, limbers, caissons, and horses plastered with mud. The slim +cannon, with canvas-wrapped breeches uptilted, dripped from their +depressed muzzles, like lank monsters slavering and discouraged. + +A battery of Montigny mitrailleuses passed, grotesque, hump-backed +little engines of destruction. To me there was always something +repulsive in the shape of these stunted cannon, these malicious metal +cripples with their heavy bodies and sinister, filthy mouths. + +Before the drenched artillery had rattled out of Morsbronn the rain +once more fell in floods, pouring a perpendicular torrent from the +transparent, gray heavens, and the roar of the downpour on slate roofs +and ancient gables drowned the pounding of the passing cannon. + +Where the Vosges mountains towered in obscurity a curtain of rain +joined earth and sky. The rivers ran yellow, brimful, foaming at the +fords. The semaphore on the mountain of the Pigeonnier was not +visible; but across the bridge, where the Gunstett highway spanned the +Sauer, gray masses of the Niederwald loomed through the rain. + +Somewhere in that spectral forest Prussian cavalry were hidden, +watching the heights where our drenched divisions lay. Behind that +forest a German army was massing, fresh from the combat in the north, +where the tragedy of Wissembourg had been enacted only the day before, +in the presence of the entire French army--the awful spectacle of a +single division of seven thousand men suddenly enveloped and crushed +by seventy thousand Germans. + +The rain fell steadily but less heavily. I went back to my instrument +and called up the station on the Col du Pigeonnier, asking for +information, but got no reply, the storm doubtless interfering. + +Officers of the Third Hussars were continually tramping up and down +the muddy stairway, laughing, joking, swearing at the rain, or +shouting for their horses, when the trumpets sounded in the street +below. + +I watched the departing squadron, splashing away down the street, +which was now running water like a river; then I changed my civilian +clothes for a hussar uniform, sent a trooper to find me a horse, and +sat down by the window to stare at the downpour and think how best I +might carry out my instructions to a successful finish. + +The colony at La Trappe was, as far as I could judge, a product of +conditions which had, a hundred years before, culminated in the French +Revolution. Now, in 1870, but under different circumstances, all +France was once more disintegrating socially. Opposition to the +Empire, to the dynasty, to the government, had been seething for +years; now the separate crystals which formed on the edges of the +boiling under-currents began to grow into masses which, adhering to +other masses, interfered with the healthy functions of national life. + +Until recently, however, while among the dissatisfied there existed a +certain tendency towards cohesion, and while, moreover, adhesive +forces mutually impelled separate groups of malcontents to closer +union, the government found nothing alarming in the menaces of +individuals or of isolated groups. The Emperor always counted on such +opposition in Paris; the palace of the Tuileries was practically a +besieged place, menaced always by the faubourgs--a castle before which +lay eternally the sullen, unorganized multitude over which the +municipal police kept watch. + +That opposition, hatred, and treason existed never worried the +government, but that this opposition should remain unorganized +occupied the authorities constantly. + +Groups of individuals who proclaimed themselves devotees of social +theories interested us only when the groups grew large or exhibited +tendencies to unite with similar groups. + +Clubs formed to discuss social questions were usually watched by the +police; violent organizations were not observed very closely, but +clubs founded upon moderate principles were always closely surveyed. + +In the faubourgs, where every street had its bawling orator, and where +the red flag was waved when the community had become sufficiently +drunk, the government was quietly content to ignore proceedings, +wisely understanding that the mouths of street orators were the +safety-valves of the faubourgs, and that through them the ebullitions +of the under-world escaped with nothing more serious than a few vinous +shrieks. There were, however, certain secret and semi-secret +organizations which caused the government concern. First among these +came the International Society of Workingmen, with all its +affiliations--the "Internationale," as it was called. In its wake +trailed minor societies, some mild and harmless, some dangerous and +secret, some violent, advocating openly the destruction of all +existing conditions. Small groups of anarchists had already attracted +groups of moderate socialistic tendencies to them, and had absorbed +them or tainted them with doctrines dangerous to the state. + +In time these groups began to adhere even more closely to the large +bodies of the people; a party was born, small at first, embodying +conflicting communistic principles. + +The government watched it. Presently it split, as do all parties; yet +here the paradox was revealed of a small party splitting into two +larger halves. To one of these halves adhered the Red Republicans, the +government opposition of the Extreme Left, the Opportunists, the +Anarchists, certain Socialists, the so-called Communards, and finally +the vast mass of the sullen, teeming faubourgs. It became a party +closely affiliated with the Internationale, a colossal, restless, +unorganized menace, harmless only because unorganized. + +And the police were expected to keep it harmless. The other remaining +half of the original party began to dwindle almost immediately, until +it became only a group. _With one exception_, all those whom the +police and the government regarded as inclined to violence left the +group. There remained, _with this one exception_, a nucleus of +earnest, thoughtful people whose creed was in part the creed of the +Internationale, the creed of universal brotherhood, equality before +the law, purity of individual living as an example and an incentive to +a national purity. + +To this inoffensive group came one day a young widow, the Countess de +Vassart, placing at their disposal her great wealth, asking only to be +received among them as a comrade. + +Her history, as known to the police, was peculiar and rather sad: at +sixteen she had been betrothed to an elderly, bull-necked colonel of +cavalry, the notorious Count de Vassart, who needed what money she +might bring him to maintain his reputation as the most brilliantly +dissolute old rake in Paris. + +At sixteen, Éline de Trécourt was a thin, red-haired girl, with rather +large, grayish eyes. Speed and I saw her once, sitting in her carriage +before the Ministry of War a year after her marriage. There had been +bad news from Mexico, and there were many handsome equipages standing +at the gates of the war office, where lists of killed and wounded were +posted every day. + +I noticed her particularly because of her reputed wealth and the evil +reputation of her husband, who, it was said, was so open in his +contempt for her that the very afternoon of their marriage he was seen +publicly driving on the Champs-Élysées with a pretty and popular +actress of the Odéon. + +As I passed, glancing up at her, the sadness of her face impressed me, +and I remember wondering how much the death of her husband had to do +with it--for his name had appeared in the evening papers under the +heading, "Killed in Action." + +It was several years later before the police began to take an interest +in the Comtesse Éline de Vassart. She had withdrawn entirely from +society, had founded a non-sectarian free school in Passy, was +interested in certain charities and refuges for young working-girls, +when on a visit to England, she met Karl Marx, then a fugitive and +under sentence of death. + +From that moment social questions occupied her, and her doings +interested the police, especially when she returned to Paris and took +her place once more in Royalist circles, where every baby was bred +from the cradle to renounce the Tuileries, the Emperor, and all his +works. + +Serious, tender-hearted, charitable, and intensely interested in all +social reforms, she shocked the conservative society of the noble +faubourg, aroused the distrust of the government, offended the +Tuileries, and finally committed the mistake of receiving at her own +house that notorious group of malcontents headed by Henri Rochefort, +whose revolutionary newspaper, _La Marseillaise_, doubtless needed +pecuniary support. + +Her dossier--for, alas! the young girl already had a dossier--was +interesting, particularly in its summing-up of her personal +character: + +"To the naive ignorance of a convent pensionnaire, she adds an +innocence of mind, a purity of conduct, and a credulity which render +her an easy prey to the adroit, who play upon her sympathies. She is +dangerous only as a source of revenue for dangerous men." + +It was from her salon that young Victor Noir went to his death at +Auteuil on the 10th of January; and possibly the shock of the murder +and the almost universal conviction that justice under the Empire was +hopeless drove the young Countess to seek a refuge in the country +where, at her house of La Trappe, she could quietly devote her life to +helping the desperately wretched, and where she could, in security, +hold council with those who also had chosen to give their lives to +the noblest of all works--charity and the propaganda of universal +brotherhood. + +And here, at La Trappe, the young aristocrat first donned the robe of +democracy, dedicated her life and fortune to the cause, and worked +with her own delicate hands for every morsel of bread that passed her +lips. + +Now this was all very well while it lasted, for her father, the +choleric old Comte de Trécourt, had died rich, and the young girl's +charities were doubled, and there was nobody to stay her hand or draw +the generous purse-strings; nobody to advise her or to stop her. On +the contrary, there were plenty of people standing around with +outstretched, itching, and sometimes dirty hands, ready to snatch at +the last centime. + +Who was there to administer her affairs, who among the generous, +impetuous, ill-balanced friends that surrounded her? Not the +noble-minded geographer, Elisée Réclus; not the fiery citizen-count, +Rochefort; not the handsome, cultivated Gustave Flourens, already +"fey" with the doom to which he had been born; not that kindly +visionary, the Vicomte de Coursay-Delmont, now discarding his ancient +title to be known only among his grateful, penniless patients as +Doctor Delmont; and surely not Professor Tavernier, nor yet that +militant hermit, the young Chevalier de Gray, calling himself plain +Monsieur Bazard, who chose democracy instead of the brilliant career +to which Grammont had destined him, and whose sensitive and perhaps +diseased mind had never recovered from the shock of the murder of his +comrade, Victor Noir. + +But the simple life at La Trappe, the negative protest against the +Empire and all existing social conditions, the purity of motive, the +serene and inspired self-abnegation, could not save the colony at La +Trappe nor the young châtelaine from the claws of those who prey upon +the innocence of the generous. + +And so came to this ideal community one John Buckhurst, a stranger, +quiet, suave, deadly pale, a finely moulded man, with delicately +fashioned hands and feet, and two eyes so colorless that in some +lights they appeared to be almost sightless. + +In a month from that time he was the power that moved that community +even in its most insignificant machinery. With marvellous skill he +constructed out of that simple republic of protestants an absolute +despotism. And he was the despot. + +The avowed object of the society was the advancement of universal +brotherhood, of liberty and equality, the annihilation of those +arbitrary barriers called national frontiers--in short, a society for +the encouragement of the millennium, which, however, appeared to be +coy. + +And before the eyes of his brother dreamers John Buckhurst quietly +cancelled the entire programme at one stroke, and nobody understood +that it was cancelled when, in a community founded upon equality and +fraternity, he raised another edifice to crown it, a sort of working +model as an example to the world, but _limited_. And down went +democracy without a sound. + +This working model was a superior community which was established at +the Breton home of the Countess de Vassart, a large stone house in the +hamlet of Paradise, in Morbihan. + +An intimation from the Tuileries interrupted a meeting of the council +at the house in Paradise; an arrest was threatened--that of Professor +Réclus--and the indignant young Countess was requested to retire to +her château of La Trappe. She obeyed, but invited her guests to +accompany her. Among those who accepted was Buckhurst. + +About this time the government began to take a serious interest in +John Buckhurst. On the secret staff of the Imperial Military Police +were always certain foreigners--among others, myself and a young man +named James Speed; and Colonel Jarras had already decided to employ us +in watching Buckhurst, when war came on France like a bolt from the +blue, giving the men of the Secret Service all they could attend to. + +In the shameful indecision and confusion attending the first few days +after the declaration of war against Prussia, Buckhurst slipped +through our fingers, and I, for one, did not expect to hear of him +again. But I did not begin to know John Buckhurst, for, within three +days after he had avoided an encounter with us, Buckhurst was believed +to have committed one of the most celebrated crimes of the century. + +The secret history of that unhappy war will never be fully written. +Prince Bismarck has let the only remaining cat out of the bag; the +other cats are dead. Nor will all the strange secrets of the Tuileries +ever be brought to light, fortunately. + +Still, at this time, there is no reason why it should not be generally +known that the crown jewels of France were menaced from the very first +by a conspiracy so alarming and apparently so irresistible that the +Emperor himself believed, even in the beginning of the fatal campaign, +that it might be necessary to send the crown jewels of France to the +Bank of England for safety. + +On the 19th of July, the day that war was declared, certain of the +crown jewels, kept temporarily at the palace of the Tuileries, were +sent under heavy guards to the Bank of France. Every precaution was +taken; yet the great diamond crucifix of Louis XI. was missing when +the guard under Captain Siebert turned over the treasures to the +governor of the Bank of France. + +Instantly absolute secrecy was ordered, which I, for one, believed to +be a great mistake. Yet the Emperor desired it, doubtless for the same +reasons which always led him to suppress any affair which might give +the public an idea that the opposition to the government was worthy of +the government's attention. + +So the news of the robbery never became public property, but from one +end of France to the other the gendarmerie, the police, local, +municipal, and secret, were stirred up to activity. + +Within forty-eight hours, an individual answering Buckhurst's +description had sold a single enormous diamond for two hundred and +fifty thousand francs to a dealer in Strasbourg, a Jew named Fishel +Cohen, who, counting on the excitement produced by the war and the +topsy-turvy condition of the city, supposed that such a transaction +would create no interest. + +Mr. Cohen was wrong; an hour after he had recorded the transaction at +the Strasbourg Diamond Exchange he and the diamond were on their way +to Paris, in charge of a detective. A few hours later the stone was +identified at the Tuileries as having been taken from the famous +crucifix of Louis XI. + +From Fishel Cohen's agonized description of the man who had sold him +the diamond, Colonel Jarras believed he recognized John Buckhurst. But +how on earth Buckhurst had obtained access to the jewels, or how he +had managed to spirit away the cross from the very centre of the +Tuileries, could only be explained through the theory of accomplices +among the trusted intimates of the imperial entourage. And if there +existed such a conspiracy, who was involved? + +It is violating no secret now to admit that every soul in the +Tuileries, from highest to lowest, was watched. Even the governor of +the Bank of France did not escape the attentions of the secret police. +For it was certain that somebody in the imperial confidence had +betrayed that confidence in a shocking manner, and nobody could know +how far the conspiracy had spread, or who was involved in the most +daring and shameless robbery that had been perpetrated in France since +Cardinal de Rohan and his gang stole the celebrated necklace of Marie +Antoinette. + +Nor was it at all certain that the remaining jewels of the French +crown were safe in Paris. The precautions taken to insure their +safety, and the result of those precautions, are matters of history, +but nobody outside of a small, strangely assorted company of people +could know what actually happened to the crown jewels of France in +1870, or what pieces, if any, are still missing. + +My chase after Buckhurst began as soon as Colonel Jarras could summon +me; and as Buckhurst had last been heard of in Strasbourg, I went +after him on a train loaded with red-legged, uproarious soldiers, who +sang all day: + + "Have you seen Bismarck + Drinking in the gay café, + With that other brother spark-- + Monsieur Badinguet?" + +and had drunk themselves into a shameful frenzy long before the train +thundered into Avricourt. + +I tracked Buckhurst to Morsbronn, where I lost all traces of him; and +now here I was with my orders concerning the unfortunate people at La +Trappe, staring out at the dismal weather and wondering where my +wild-goose chase would end. + +I went to the door and called for the military telegraph operator, +whose instrument I had been permitted to monopolize. He came, a +pleasant, jaunty young fellow, munching a crust of dry bread and +brushing the crumbs from his scarlet trousers. + +"In case I want to communicate with you I'll signal the tower on the +Col du Pigeonnier," I said. "Come up to the loft overhead." + +The loft in the house which had now been turned into a cavalry +barracks was just above my room, a large attic under the dripping +gables, black with the stains of centuries, littered with broken +furniture, discarded clothing, and the odds and ends cherished by the +thrifty Alsatian peasant, who never throws away anything from the day +of his birth to the day of his death. And, given a long line of +forefathers equally thrifty, and an ancient high-gabled house where +his ancestors first began collecting discarded refuse, the attic of +necessity was a marvel of litter and decay, among which generations of +pigeons had built nests and raised countless broods of squealing +squabs. + +Into this attic we climbed, edged our way toward a high window out of +which the leaded panes had long since tumbled earthward, and finally +stood together, looking out over the mountains of the Alsatian +frontier. + +The rain had ceased; behind the Col du Pigeonnier sunshine fell +through a rift in the watery clouds. It touched the rushing river, +shining on foaming fords where our cavalry pickets were riding in the +valley mist. + +Somewhere up in the vineyards behind us an infantry band was playing; +away among the wet hills to the left the strumming vibrations of wet +drums marked the arrival of a regiment from goodness knows where; and +presently we saw them, their gray overcoats and red trousers soaked +almost black with rain, rifles en bandoulière, trudging patiently up +the muddy slope above the town. Something in the plodding steps of +those wet little soldiers touched me. Bravely their soaked drums +battered away, bravely they dragged their clumsy feet after them, +brightly and gayly the breaking sun touched their crimson forage-caps +and bayonets and the swords of mounted officers; but to me they were +only a pathetic troop of perplexed peasants, dragged out of the bosom +of France to be huddled and herded in a strange pasture, where death +watched them from the forest yonder, marking them for slaughter with +near-sighted Teutonic eyes. + +A column of white cloud suddenly capped the rocks on the vineyard +above. Bang! and something came whistling with a curious, bird-like +cry over the village of Morsbronn, flying far out across the valley: +and among the pines of the Prussian forest a point of flame flashed, a +distant explosion echoed. + +Down in the street below us an old man came tottering from his little +shop, peering sideways up into the sky. + +"Il pleut, berger," called out the operator beside me, in a bantering +voice. + +"It will rain--bullets," said the old man, simply, and returned to +his shop to drag out a chair on the doorsill and sit and listen to the +shots which our cavalry outposts were exchanging with the Prussian +scouts. + +"Poor old chap," said the operator; "it will be hard for him. He was +with the Grand Emperor at Jena." + +"You speak as though our army was already on the run," I said. + +"Yes," he replied, indifferently, "we'll soon be on the run." + +After a moment I said: "I'm going to ride to La Trappe. I wish you +would send those messages to Paris." + +"All right," he said. + +Half an hour later I rode out of Morsbronn, clad in the uniform of the +Third Hussars, a disguise supposed to convey the idea to those at La +Trappe that the army and not the police were responsible for their +expulsion. + +The warm August sunshine slanted in my face as I galloped away up the +vineyard road and out on to the long plateau where, on every hillock, +a hussar picket sat his wiry horse, carbine poised, gazing steadily +toward the east. + +Over the sombre Prussian forests mist hung; away to the north the sun +glittered on the steel helmets and armor of the heavy cavalry, just +arriving. And on the Col du Pigeonnier I saw tiny specks move, flags +signalling the arrival of the Vicomte de Bonnemain with the "grosse +cavalerie," the splendid cuirassier regiments destined in a few hours +to join the cuirassiers of Waterloo, riding into that bright Valhalla +where all good soldiers shall hear the last trumpet call, +"Dismount!" + +With a lingering glance at the rivers which separated us from German +soil, I turned my horse and galloped away into the hills. + +A moist, fern-bordered wood road attracted me; I reasoned that it must +lead, by a short cut, across the hills to the military highway which +passed between Trois-Feuilles and La Trappe. So I took it, and +presently came into four cross-roads unknown to me. + +This grassy carrefour was occupied by a flock of turkeys, busily +engaged in catching grasshoppers; their keeper, a prettily shaped +peasant girl, looked up at me as I drew bridle, then quietly resumed +the book she had been reading. + +"My child," said I, "if you are as intelligent as you are beautiful, +you will not be tending other people's turkeys this time next year." + +"Merci, beau sabreur!" said the turkey-girl, raising her blue eyes. +Then the lashes veiled them; she bent her head a little, turning it so +that the curve of her cheeks gave to her profile that delicate +contour which is so suggestive of innocence when the ears are small +and the neck white. + +"My child," said I, "will you kindly direct me, with appropriate +gestures, to the military highway which passes the Château de la +Trappe?" + + + + +II + +THE GOVERNMENT INTERFERES + + +"There is a short cut across that meadow," said the young girl, +raising a rounded, sun-tinted arm, bare to the shoulder. + +"You are very kind," said I, looking at her steadily. + +"And, after that, you will come to a thicket of white birches." + +"Thank you, mademoiselle." + +"And after that," she said, idly following with her blue eyes the +contour of her own lovely arm, "you must turn to the left, and there +you will cross a hill. You can see it from where we stand--" + +She glanced at me over her outstretched arm. "You are not listening," +she said. + +I shifted a troubled gaze to the meadow which stretched out all +glittering with moist grasses and tufts of rain-drenched wild +flowers. + +The girl's arm slowly fell to her side, she looked up at me again, I +felt her eyes on me for a moment, then she turned her head toward the +meadow. + +A deadened report shook the summer air--the sound of a cannon fired +very far away, perhaps on the citadel of Strasbourg. It was so +distant, so indistinct, that here in this peaceful country it lingered +only as a vibration; the humming of the clover bees was louder. + +Without turning my head I said: "It is difficult to believe that +there is war anywhere in the world--is it not, mademoiselle?" + +"Not if one knows the world," she said, indifferently. + +"Do you know it, my child?" + +"Sufficiently," she said. + +She had opened again the book which she had been reading when I first +noticed her. From my saddle I saw that it was Molière. I examined her, +in detail, from the tips of her small wooden shoes to the scarlet +velvet-banded skirt, then slowly upward, noting the laced bodice of +velvet, the bright hair under the butterfly coiffe of Alsace, the +delicate outline of nose and brow and throat. The ensemble was +theatrical. + +"Why do you tend turkeys?" I asked. + +"Because it pleases me," she replied, raising her eyebrows in faint +displeasure. + +"For that same reason you read Monsieur Molière?" I suggested. + +"Doubtless, monsieur." + +"Who are you?" + +"Is a passport required in France?" she replied, languidly. + +"Are you what you pretend to be, an Alsatian turkey tender?" + +"Parbleu! There are my turkeys, monsieur." + +"Of course, and there is your peasant dress and there are your wooden +shoes, and there also, mademoiselle, are your soft hands and your +accented speech and your plays of Molière." + +"You are very wise for a hussar," she said. + +"Perhaps," said I, "but I have asked you a question which remains +parried." + +She balanced the hazel rod across her shoulders with a faintly +malicious smile. + +"One might almost believe that you are not a hussar, but an officer +of the Imperial Police," she said. + +[Illustration: "'ACROSS THAT MEADOW,' SAID THE YOUNG GIRL"] + +"If you think that," said I, "you should answer my question the +sooner--unless you come from La Trappe. Do you?" + +"Sometimes." + +"Oh! And what do you do at the Château de la Trappe?" + +"I tend poultry--sometimes," she replied. + +"And at other times?" + +"I do other things, monsieur." + +"What things?" + +"What things? Mon Dieu, I read a little, as you perceive, monsieur." + +"Who are you?" I demanded. + +"Oh, a mere nobody in such learned company," she said, shaking her +head with a mock humility that annoyed me intensely. + +"Very well," said I, conscious every moment of her pleasure in my +discomfiture; "under the circumstances I am going to ask you to +accept my escort to La Trappe; for I think you are Mademoiselle Elven, +recently of the Odéon theatre." + +At this her eyes widened and the smile on her face became less +genuine. "Indeed, I shall not go with you," she said. + +"I'm afraid I'll have to insist," said I. + +She still balanced her hazel rod across her shoulders, a smile curving +her mouth. + +"Monsieur," she said, "do you ride through the world pressing every +peasant girl you meet with such ardent entreaties? Truly, your fashion +of wooing is not slow, but everybody knows that hussars are headlong +gentlemen--'Nothing is sacred from a hussar,'" she hummed, +deliberately, in a parody which made me writhe in my saddle. + +"Mademoiselle," said I, taking off my forage-cap, "your ridicule is +not the most disagreeable incident that I expect to meet with to-day. +I am attempting to do my duty, and I must ask you to do yours." + +"By taking a walk with you, beau monsieur?" + +"I'm afraid so." + +"And if I refuse?" + +"Then," said I, amiably, "I shall be obliged to set you on my +horse." And I dismounted and went toward her. + +"Set me on--on that horse?" she repeated, with a disturbed smile. + +"Will you come on foot, then?" + +"No, I will not!" she said, with a click of her teeth. + +I looked at my watch--it lacked five minutes to one. + +"In five minutes we are going to start," said I, cheerfully, and +stood waiting, twisting the gilt hilt-tassels of my sabre with nervous +fingers. + +After a silence she said, very seriously, "Monsieur, would you dare +use violence toward me?" + +"Oh, I shall not be very violent," I replied, laughing. I held the +opened watch in my hand so that she could see the dial if she chose. + +"It is one o'clock," I said, closing the hunting-case with a snap. + +She looked me steadily in the eyes. + +"Will you come with me to La Trappe?" + +She did not stir. + +I stepped toward her; she gave me a breathless, defiant stare; then in +an instant I caught her up and swung her high into my saddle, before +either she or I knew exactly what had happened. + +Fury flashed up in her eyes and was gone, leaving them almost blank +blue. As for me, amazed at what I had done, I stood at her stirrup, +breathing very fast, with jaws set and chin squared. + +She was clever enough not to try to dismount, woman enough not to make +an awkward struggle or do anything ungraceful. In her face I read an +immense astonishment; fascination seemed to rivet her eyes on me, +following my every movement as I shortened one stirrup for her, +tightened the girths, and laid the bridle in her half-opened hand. + +Then, in silence, I led the horse forward through the open gate out +into the wet meadow. + +Wading knee-deep through soaking foliage, I piloted my horse with its +mute burden across the fields; and, after a few minutes a violent +desire to laugh seized me and persisted, but I bit my lip and called +up a few remaining sentiments of decency. + +As for my turkey-girl, she sat stiffly in the saddle, with a firmness +and determination that proved her to be a stranger to horses. I +scarcely dared look at her, so fearful was I of laughing. + +As we emerged from the meadow I heard the cannon sounding again at a +great distance, and this perhaps sobered me, for presently all desire +of laughter left me, and I turned into the road which led through the +birch thicket, anxious to accomplish my mission and have done with it +as soon as might be. + +"Are we near La Trappe?" I asked, respectfully. + +Had she pouted, or sulked, or burst into reproaches, I should have +cared little--in fact, an outburst might have relieved me. + +But she answered me so sweetly, and, too, with such composure, that my +heart smote me for what I had done to her and what I was still to do. + +"Would you rather walk?" I asked, looking up at her. + +"No, thank you," she said, serenely. + +So we went on. The spectacle of a cavalryman in full uniform leading a +cavalry horse on which was seated an Alsatian girl in bright peasant +costume appeared to astonish the few people we passed. One of these +foot-farers, a priest who was travelling in our direction, raised his +pallid visage to meet my eyes. Then he stole a glance at the girl in +the saddle, and I saw a tint of faded color settle under his +transparent skin. + +The turkey-girl saluted the priest with a bright smile. + +"Fortune of war, father," she said, gayly. "Behold! Alsace in +chains." + +"Is she a prisoner?" said the priest, turning directly on me. Of all +the masks called faces, never had I set eyes on such a deathly one, +nor on such pale eyes, all silvery surface without depth enough for a +spark of light to make them seem alive. + +"What do you mean by a prisoner, father?" I asked. + +"I mean a prisoner," he said, doggedly. + +"When the church cross-examines the government, the towers of Notre +Dame shake," I said, pleasantly. "I mean no discourtesy, father; it +is a proverb in Paris." + +"There is another proverb," observed the turkey-girl, placidly. +"Once a little inhabitant of hell stole the key to paradise. His +punishment was dreadful. They locked him in." + +I looked up at her, perplexed and irritated, conscious that she was +ridiculing me, but unable to comprehend just how. And my irritation +increased when the priest said, calmly, "Can I aid you, my child?" + +She shook her head with a cool smile. + +"I am quite safe under the escort of an officer of the Imperial--" + +"Wait!" I said, hastily, but she continued, "of the Imperial +Military Police." + +Above all things I had not wanted it known that the Imperial Police +were moving in this affair at La Trappe, and now this little fool had +babbled to a strange priest--of all people in the world! + +"What have the police to do with this harmless child?" demanded the +priest, turning on me so suddenly that I involuntarily took a step +backward. + +"Is this the confessional, father?" I replied, sharply. "Go your way +in peace, and leave to the police what alone concerns the police." + +"Render unto Cæsar," said the girl, quietly. "Good-bye, father." + +Turning to look again at the priest, I was amazed to find him close to +me, too close for a man with such eyes in his head, for a man who +moved so swiftly and softly, and, in spite of me, a nervous movement +of my hand left me with my fingers on the butt of my pistol. + +"What the devil is all this?" I blurted out. "Stand aside, father. +Do you think the Holy Inquisition is back in France? Stand aside then! +I salute your cloth!" + +And I passed on ahead, one hand on the horse's neck, the other +touching the visor of my scarlet forage-cap. Once I looked back. The +priest was standing where I had passed him. + +We met a dozen people in all, I think, some of them peasants, one or +two of the better class--a country doctor and a notary among them. +None appeared to know my turkey-girl, nor did she even glance at them; +moreover, all answered my inquiries civilly enough, directing me to La +Trappe, and professing ignorance as to its inhabitants. + +"Why do all the people I meet carry bundles?" I demanded of the +notary. + +"Mon Dieu, monsieur, they are too near the frontier to take risks," +he replied, blinking through his silver-rimmed spectacles at my +turkey-girl. + +"You mean to say they are running away from their village of +Trois-Feuilles?" I asked. + +"Exactly," he said. "War is a rude guest for poor folk." + +Disgusted with the cowardice of the hamlet of Trois-Feuilles, I passed +on without noticing the man's sneer. In a moment, however, he repassed +me swiftly, going in the same direction as were we, toward La Trappe. + +"Wait a bit!" I called out. "What is your business in that +direction, monsieur the notary?" + +He looked around, muttered indistinctly about having forgotten +something, and started on ahead of us, but at a sharp "Stop!" from me +he halted quickly enough. + +"Your road lies the other way," I observed, and, as he began to +protest, I cut him short. + +"You change your direction too quickly to suit me," I said. "Come, +my friend the weather-cock, turn your nose east and follow it or I may +ask you some questions that might frighten you." + +And so I left him also staring after us, and I had half a mind to go +back and examine his portfolio to see what a snipe-faced notary might +be carrying about with him. + +When I looked up at my turkey-girl, she was sitting more easily in the +saddle, head bent thoughtfully. + +"You see, mademoiselle, I take no chances of not finding my friends +at home," I said. + +"What friends, monsieur?" + +"My friends at La Trappe." + +"Oh! And ... you think that the notary we passed might have desired +to prepare them for your visit, monsieur?" + +"Possibly. The notary of Trois-Feuilles and the Château de la Trappe +may not be unknown to each other. Perhaps even mademoiselle the +turkey-girl may number the learned Trappists among her friends." + +"Perhaps," she said. + +Walking on along the muddy road beside her, arm resting on my horse's +neck, I thought over again of the chances of catching Buckhurst, and +they seemed slim, especially as after my visit the house at La Trappe +would be vacant and the colony scattered, or at least out of French +jurisdiction, and probably settled across the Belgian frontier. + +Of course, if the government ordered the expulsion of these people, +the people must go; but I for one found the order a foolish one, +because it removed a bait that might attract Buckhurst back where we +stood a chance of trapping him. + +But in a foreign country he could visit his friends freely, and +whatever movement he might ultimately contemplate against the French +government could easily be directed from that paradise of anarchists, +Belgium, without the necessity of his exposing himself to any +considerable danger. + +I was sorry that affairs had taken this turn. + +A little breeze began blowing; the scarlet skirt of my turkey-girl +fluttered above her wooden shoes, and on her head the silk bow +quivered like a butterfly on a golden blossom. + +"They say when the Lord fashioned the first maid of Alsace half the +angels cried themselves ill with jealousy," said I, looking up at +her. + +"And the other half, monsieur?" + +"The sterner half started for Alsace in a body. They were controlled +with difficulty, mademoiselle. That is why St. Peter was given a key +to lock them in, not to lock us poor devils out." + +After a silence she said, musing: "It is a curious thing, but you +speak as though you had seen better days." + +"No," I said, "I have never seen better days. I am slowly rising in +the world. Last year I was a lieutenant; I am now inspector." + +"I meant," she said, scornfully, "that you had been well-born--a +gentleman." + +"Are gentlemen scarce in the Imperial Military Police?" + +"It is not a profession that honors a man." + +"Of all people in the world," said I, "the police would be the most +gratified to believe that this violent world needs no police." + +"Monsieur, there is another remedy for violence." + +"And what may that remedy be, mademoiselle?" + +"Non-resistance--absolute non-resistance," said the girl, earnestly, +bending her pretty head toward me. + +"That is not human nature," I said, laughing. + +"Is the justification of human nature our aim in this world?" + +"Nor is it possible for mankind to submit to violence," I added. + +"I believe otherwise," she said, gravely. + +As we mounted the hill along a sandy road, bordered with pines and +with cool, green thickets of broom and gorse, I looked up at her and +said: "In spite of your theories, mademoiselle, you yourself refused +to accompany me." + +"But I did not resist your violence," she replied, smiling. + +After a moment's silence I said: "For a disciple of a stern and +colorless creed, you are very human. I am sorry that you believe it +necessary to reform the world." + +She said, thoughtfully: "There is nothing joyless in my creed--above +all, nothing stern. If it be fanaticism to desire for all the world +that liberty of thought and speech and deed which I, for one, have +assumed, then I am, perhaps, a fanatic. If it be fanaticism to detest +violence and to deplore all resistance to violence, I am a very +guilty woman, monsieur, and deserve ill of the Emperor's Military +Police." + +This she said with that faintly ironical smile hovering sometimes in +her eyes, sometimes on her lips, so that it was hard to face her and +feel quite comfortable. + +I began, finally, an elaborate and logical argument, forgetting that +women reason only with their hearts, and she listened courteously. To +meet her eyes when I was speaking interrupted my train of thought, and +often I was constrained to look out across the hills at the heavy, +solid flanks of the mountains, which seemed to steady my logic and +bring rebellious thought and wandering wisdom to obedience. + +I explained my theory of the acceptance of three things--human nature, +the past, and the present. Given these, the solution of future +problems must be a different solution from that which she proposed. + +At moments the solemn absurdity of it all came over me--the +turkey-girl, with her golden head bent, her butterfly coiffe +a-flutter, discussing ethics with an irresponsible fly-by-night, who +happened at that period of his career to carry a commission in the +Imperial Police. + +The lazy roadside butterflies flew up in clouds before the +slow-stepping horse; the hill rabbits, rising to their hindquarters, +wrinkled their whiskered noses at us; from every thicket speckled +hedge-birds peered at us as we went our way solemnly deciding those +eternal questions already ancient when the Talmud branded woman with +the name of Lilith. + +At length, as we reached the summit of the sandy hill, "There is La +Trappe, monsieur," said my turkey-girl, and once more stretched out +her lovely arm. + +There appeared to be nothing mysterious about the house or its +surroundings; indeed, a sunnier and more peaceful spot would be hard +to find in that land of hills, ravines, and rocky woodlands, outposts +of those cloudy summits soaring skyward in the south. + +The house itself was visible through gates of wrought iron, swinging +wide between pillars of stone, where an avenue stretched away under +trees to a granite terrace, glittering in the sun. And under the +terrace a quiet pool lay reflecting tier on tier of stone steps which +mounted to the bright esplanade above. + +There was no porter at the gate to welcome me or to warn me back; the +wet road lay straight in front, barred only by sunbeams. + +"May we enter?" I asked, politely. + +She did not answer, and I led the horse down that silent avenue of +trees towards the terrace and the glassy pool which mirrored the steps +of stone. + +Masses of scarlet geraniums, beds of living coals, glowed above the +terrace. As we drew nearer, the water caught the blaze of color, +reflecting the splendor in subdued tints of smothered flame. And +always, in the pool, I saw the terrace steps, reversed, leading down +into depths of sombre fire. + +"And here we dismount," said I, and offered my aid. + +She laid her hands on my shoulders; I swung her to the ground, where +her sabots clicked and her silver neck-chains jingled in the silence. + +I looked around. How intensely still was everything--the leaves, the +water! The silent blue peaks on the horizon seemed to be watching me; +the trees around me were so motionless that they also appeared to be +listening with every leaf. + +This quarter of the world was too noiseless for me; there might have +been a bird-note, a breeze to whisper, a minute stirring of unseen +life--but there was not. + +"Is that house empty?" I asked, turning brusquely on my companion. + +"The Countess de Vassart will give you your answer," she replied. + +"Kindly announce me, then," I said, grimly, and together we mounted +the broad flight of steps to the esplanade, above which rose the gray +mansion of La Trappe. + + + + +III + +LA TRAPPE + + +There was a small company of people gathered at a table which stood in +the cool shadows of the château's eastern wing. Towards these people +my companion directed her steps; I saw her bend close to the ear of a +young girl who had already turned to look at me. At the same instant a +heavily built, handsome man pushed back his chair and stood up, +regarding me steadily through his spectacles, one hand grasping the +back of the seat from which he had risen. + +Presently the young girl to whom my companion of the morning had +whispered rose gracefully and came toward me. + +Slender, yet with that charming outline of body which youth wears as a +promise, she moved across the terrace in her flowing robe of crape, +and welcomed me with a gesture and a pleasant word, which I scarcely +heard, so stupidly I stood, silenced by the absolute loveliness of the +girl. Did I say loveliness? No, not that, but something newer, +something far more fresh, far sweeter, that made mere physical beauty +a thing less vital than the colorless shadow of a crystal. + +She was not only beautiful, she was Beauty itself, incarnate, alive, +soul and body. Later I noticed that she was badly sun-burned under the +eyes, that her delicate nose was adorned by an adorable freckle, and +that she had red hair.... Could this be the Countess de Vassart? What +a change! + +I stepped forward to meet her, and took off my forage-cap. + +"Is it true, monsieur, that you have come to arrest us?" she asked, +in a low voice. + +"Yes, madame," I replied, already knowing that she was the Countess. +She hesitated; then: + +"Will you tell me your name? I am Madame de Vassart." + +Cap in hand I followed her to the table, where the company had already +risen. The young Countess presented me with undisturbed simplicity; I +bowed to my turkey-girl, who proved, after all, to be the actress from +the Odéon, Sylvia Elven; then I solemnly shook hands with Dr. Leo +Delmont, Professor Claude Tavernier, and Monsieur Bazard, +ex-instructor at the Fontainebleau Artillery School, whom I +immediately recognized as the snipe-faced notary I had met on the +road. + +"Well, sir," exclaimed Dr. Delmont, in his deep, hearty voice, "if +this peaceful little community is come under your government's +suspicion, I can only say, Heaven help France!" + +"Is not that what we all say in these times, doctor?" I asked. + +"When I say 'Heaven help France!' I do not mean Vive l'Empereur!'" +retorted the big doctor, dryly. + +Professor Tavernier, a little, gray-headed savant with used-up eyes, +asked me mildly if he might know why they all were to be expelled from +France. I did not reply. + +"Is thought no longer free in France?" asked Dr. Delmont, in his +heavy voice. + +"Thought is free in France," I replied, "but its expression is +sometimes inadvisable, doctor." + +"And the Emperor is to be the judge of when it is advisable to +express one's thoughts?" inquired Professor Tavernier. + +"The Emperor," I said, "is generous, broad-minded, and wonderfully +tolerant. Only those whose attitude incites to disorder are held in +check." + +"According to the holy Code Napoléon," observed Professor Tavernier, +with a shrug. + +"The code kills the body, Napoleon the soul," said Dr. Delmont, +gravely. + +"It was otherwise with Victor Noir," suggested Mademoiselle Elven. + +"Yes," added Delmont, "he asked for justice and they gave him ... +Pierre!" + +"I think we are becoming discourteous to our guest, gentlemen," said +the young Countess, gently. + +I bowed to her. After a moment I said: "Doctor, if you do truly +believe in that universal brotherhood which apparently even tolerates +within its boundaries a poor devil of the Imperial Police, if your +creed really means peace and not violence, suffering and patience, not +provocation and revolt, demonstrate to the government by the example +of your submission to its decrees that the theories you entertain are +not the chimeras of generous but unbalanced minds." + +"We never had the faintest idea of resisting," said Monsieur Bazard, +the notary, otherwise the Chevalier de Grey, a lank, hollow-eyed young +fellow, already marked heavily with the ravages of pulmonary disease. +But the fierce glitter in his eyes gave the lie to his words. + +"Yesterday, Madame la Comtesse," I said, turning to the Countess de +Vassart, "the Emperor could easily afford to regard with equanimity +the movement in which you are associated. To-day that is no longer +possible." + +The young Countess gave me a bewildered look. + +"Is it true," she asked, "that the Emperor does not know we have +severed all connection with the Internationale?" + +"If that is so," said I, "why does Monsieur Bazard return across the +fields to warn you of my coming? And why do you harbor John Buckhurst +at La Trappe? Do you not know he is wanted by the police?" + +"But we do not know why," said Dr. Delmont, bending forward and +pouring himself a glass of red wine. This he drank slowly, eating a +bit of black bread with it. + +"Monsieur Scarlett," said Mademoiselle Elven, suddenly, "why does +the government want John Buckhurst?" + +"That, mademoiselle, is the affair of the government and of John +Buckhurst," I said. + +"Pardon," interrupted Delmont, heavily, "it is the affair of every +honest man and woman--where a Bonaparte is concerned." + +"I do not understand you, doctor," I said. + +"Then I will put it brutally," he replied. "We free people fear a +family a prince of which is a common murderer." + +I did not answer; the world has long since judged the slayer of Victor +Noir. + +After a troubled silence the Countess asked me if I would not share +their repast, and I thanked her and took some bread and grapes and a +glass of red wine. + +The sun had stolen into the corner where we had been sitting, and the +Countess suggested that we move down to the lawn under the trees; so +Dr. Delmont and Professor Tavernier lifted the table and bore it down +the terrace steps, while I carried the chairs to the lawn. + +It made me uncomfortable to play the rôle I was playing among these +misguided but harmless people; that I showed it in my face is certain, +for the Countess looked up at me and said, smilingly: "You must not +look at us so sorrowfully, Monsieur Scarlett. It is we who pity you." + +And I replied, "Madame, you are generous," and took my place among +them and ate and drank with them in silence, listening to the breeze +in the elms. + +Mademoiselle Elven, in her peasant's dress, rested her pretty arm +across her chair and sighed. + +"It is all very well not to resist violence," she said, "but it +seems to me that the world is going to run over us some day. Is there +any harm in stepping out of the way, Dr. Delmont?" + +The Countess laughed outright. + +"Not at all," she said. "But we must not attempt to box the world's +ears as we run. Must we, doctor?" + +Turning her lovely, sun-burned face to me, she continued: "Is it not +charming here? The quiet is absolute. It is always still. We are +absurdly contented here; we have no servants, you see, and we all +plough and harrow and sow and reap--not many acres, because we need +little. It is one kind of life, quite harmless and passionless, +monsieur. I have been raking hay this morning. It is so strange that +the Emperor should be troubled by the silence of these quiet +fields--" + +The distress in her eyes lasted only a moment; she turned and looked +out across the green meadows, smiling to herself. + +"At first when I came here from Paris," she said, "I was at a loss +to know what to do with all this land. I owe much happiness to Dr. +Delmont, who suggested that the estate, except what we needed, might +be loaned free to the people around us. It was an admirable thought; +we have no longer any poor among us--" + +She stopped short and gave me a quick glance. "Please understand me, +Monsieur Scarlett. I make no merit of giving what I cannot use. That +would be absurd." + +"The world knows, madame, that you have given all you have," I said. + +"Then why is your miserable government sending her into exile?" broke +in Monsieur Bazard, harshly. + +"I will tell you," I said, surprised at his tone and manner. "The +colony at La Trappe is the head and centre of a party which abhors +war, which refuses resistance, which aims, peacefully perhaps, at +political and social annihilation. In time of peace this colony is not +a menace; in time of war it is worse than a menace, monsieur." + +I turned to Dr. Delmont. + +"With the German armies massing behind the forest borders yonder, it +is unsafe for the government to leave you here at La Trappe, doctor. +You are _too neutral_." + +"You mean that the government fears treason?" demanded the doctor, +growing red. + +"Yes," I said, "if you insist." + +The Countess had turned to me in amazement. + +"Treason!" she repeated, in an unsteady voice. "Is it treason for a +small community to live quietly here in the Alsatian hills, harming +nobody, asking nothing save freedom of thought? Is it treason for a +woman of the world to renounce the world? Is it treason for her to +live an unostentatious life and use her fortune to aid others to live? +Treason! Monsieur, the word has an ugly ring to me. I am a soldier's +daughter!" + +There was something touchingly illogical in the last words--this young +apostle of peace naïvely displaying her credentials as though the mere +word "soldier" covered everything. + +"Your government insults us all," said Bazard, between his teeth. + +Mademoiselle Elven leaned forward, her blue eyes shining angrily. + +"Because I have learned that the boundaries of nations are not the +frontiers of human hearts, am I a traitor? Because I know no country +but the world, no speech but the universal speech that one reads in a +brother's eyes, because I know no barriers, no boundaries, no limits +to human brotherhood, am I a traitor?" + +She made an exquisite gesture with half-open arms; all the poetry of +the Théâtre Français was in it. + +"Look at me! I had all that life could give, save freedom, and that I +have now--freedom in thought, in speech, in action, freedom to love as +friends love, freedom to love as lovers love. Ah, more! freedom from +caste, from hate and envy and all suspicion, freedom to give, freedom +to receive, freedom in life and in death! Am I a traitor? What do I +betray? Shame on your Emperor!" + +The young Countess, too, had risen in her earnestness and had laid one +slender, sun-tanned hand upon the table. + +"War?" she said. "What is this war to us? The Emperor? What is he to +us? We who have set a watch on the world's outer ramparts, guarding +the white banner of universal brotherhood! What is this war to us!" + +"Are you not a native of France?" I asked, bluntly. + +"I am a native of the world, monsieur." + +"Do you mean to say that you care nothing for your own birthland?" I +demanded, sharply. + +"I love the world--all of it--every inch--and if France is part of +the world, so is this Prussia that we are teaching our poor peasants +to hate." + +"Madame," said I, "the women of France to-day think differently. Our +Creator did not make love of country a trite virtue, but a passion, +and set it in our bodies along with our other passions. If in you it +is absent, that concerns pathology, not the police!" + +I did not mean to wound her--I was intensely in earnest; I wanted her +to show just a single glimmer of sympathy for her own country. It +seemed as though I could not endure to look at such a woman and know +that the primal passion, born with those who had at least wept for +their natal Eden, was meaningless to her. + +She had turned a trifle pale; now she sank back into her chair, +looking at me with those troubled gray eyes in which Heaven itself had +set truth and loyalty. + +I said: "I do not believe that you care nothing for France. Train and +curb and crush your own heart as you will, you cannot drive out that +splendid earth-born humanity which is part of us--else we had all been +born in heaven!" + +"Come," said Bazard, in a rage-choked voice, "let it end here, +Monsieur Scarlett. If the government sends you here as a spy and an +official, pray remember that you are not also sent as a missionary." + +My ears began to burn. "That is true," I said, looking at the +Countess, whose face had become expressionless. "I ask your pardon +for what I have said and ... for what I am about to do." + +There was a silence. Then, in a low voice, I placed them under formal +arrest, one by one, touching each lightly on the shoulder as +prescribed by the code. And when I came to the Countess, she rose, +without embarrassment. I moved my lips and stretched out my arm, +barely touching her. I heard Bazard draw a deep breath. She was my +prisoner. + +"I must ask you to prepare for a journey," I said. "You have your +own horses, of course?" + +Without answering, Dr. Delmont walked away towards the stables; +Professor Tavernier followed him, head bent. + +"We shall want very little," said the Countess, calmly, to +Mademoiselle Elven. "Will you pack up what we need? And you, Monsieur +Bazard, will you be good enough to go to Trois-Feuilles and hire old +Brauer's carriage?" Turning to me she said: "I must ask for a little +delay; I have no longer a carriage of my own. We keep two horses to +plough and draw grain; they can be harnessed to the farm-wagon for our +effects." + +Monsieur Bazard's hectic visage flushed, he gave me a crazy stare, +and, for a moment, I fancied there was murder in his bright eyes. +Doubtless, however, devotion to his creed of non-resistance conquered +the impulse, and he walked quickly away across the meadows, his +skeleton hands clinched under his loose sleeves. + +Mademoiselle Elven also departed tip-tap! up the terrace in her +coquettish wooden shoes, leaving me alone with the Countess under the +trees. + +"Madame," said I, "before I affix the government seals to the doors +of your house I must ask you to conduct me to the roof of the east +wing." + +She bent her head in acquiescence; I followed her up the terrace into +a stone hall where the dark Flemish pictures stared back at me and my +spurred heels jingled in the silence. Up, up, and still up, winding +around a Gothic spiral, then through a passage under the battlements +and out across the slates, with wind and setting sun in my face and +the sighing tree-tops far below. + +Without glancing at me the Countess walked to the edge of the leads +and looked down along the sheer declivity of the stone facade. +Slender, exquisite, she stood there, a lonely shape against the sky, +and I saw the sun glowing on her burnished red-gold hair, and her +sun-burned hands, half unclosed, hanging at her side. + +South, north, and west the mountains towered, purple as the bloom on +October grapes; the white arm of the semaphore on the Pigeonnier was +tinted with rose color; green velvet clothed the world, under a silver +veil. + +In the north a spark of white fire began to flicker on the crest of +Mount Tonnerre. It was the mirror of a heliograph flashing out across +leagues of gray-green hills to the rocky pulpit of the Pigeonnier. + +I unslung my glasses and levelled them. The shining arm of the +semaphore fell to a horizontal position and remained rigid; down came +the signal flags, up went a red globe and two cones. Another string of +flags blossomed along the bellying halliards; the white star flashed +twice on Mount Tonnerre and went out. + +Instantly I drew a flag from my pouch, tied it to the point of my +sabre, and stepped out along the projecting snout of a gargoyle. +Below, under my feet, the tree-tops rustled in the wind. + +I had been flagging the Pigeonnier vigorously for ten minutes without +result, when suddenly a dark dot appeared on the tower beneath the +semaphore, then another. My glasses brought out two officers, one with +a flag; and, still watching them through the binoculars, I signalled +slowly, using my free hand: "This is La Trappe. Telegraph to +Morsbronn that the inspector of Imperial Police requires a peloton of +mounted gendarmes at once." + +Then I sat down on the sun-warmed slates and waited, amusing myself by +watching the ever-changing display of signal flags on the distant +observatory. + +It may have been half a minute before I saw two officers advance to +the railing of the tower and signal: "Attention, La Trappe!" + +Pencil and pad on my knee, I managed to use my field-glasses and jot +down the message: + +"Peloton of mounted gendarmes goes to you as soon as possible. +Repeat." + +I repeated, then raised my glasses. Another message came by flag: +"Attention, La Trappe. Uhlans reported near the village of +Trois-Feuilles; have you seen them?" + +Prussian Uhlans! Here in the rear of our entire army! Nonsense! And I +signalled a vigorous: + +"No. Have you?" + +To which came the disturbing reply: "Be on your guard. We are ordered +to display the semaphore at danger. Report is credited at +headquarters. Repeat." + +I repeated. Raising my glasses again, I could plainly see a young +officer, an unlighted cigar between his teeth, jotting down our +correspondence, while the other officer who had flagged me furled up +his flags and laid them aside, yawning and stretching himself to his +full height. + +So distinctly did my powerful binoculars bring the station into range +that I could even see the younger officer light a match, which the +wind extinguished, light another, and presently blow a tiny cloud of +smoke from his cigar. + +The Countess de Vassart had come up to where I was standing on the +gargoyle, balanced over the gulf below. Very cautiously I began to +step backward, for there was not room to turn around. + +"Would you care to look at the Pigeonnier, madame?" I asked, glancing +at her over my shoulder. + +"I beg you will be careful," she said. "It is a useless risk to +stand out there." + +I had never known the dread of great heights which many people feel, +and I laughed and stepped backward, expecting to land on the parapet +behind me. But the point of my scabbard struck against the +battlements, forcing me outward; I stumbled, staggered, and swayed a +moment, striving desperately to recover my balance; I felt my gloved +fingers slipping along the smooth face of the parapet, my knees gave +way with horror; then my fingers clutched something--an arm--and I +swung back, slap against the parapet, hanging to that arm with all my +weight. A terrible effort and I planted my boots on the leads and +looked up with sick eyes into the eyes of the Countess. + +"Can you stand it?" I groaned, clutching her arm with my other hand. + +"Yes--don't be afraid," she said, calmly. "Draw me toward you; I +cannot draw you over." + +"Press your knees against the battlements," I gasped. + +She bent one knee and wedged it into a niche. + +"Don't be afraid; you are not hurting me," she said, with a ghastly +smile. + +I raised one hand and caught her shoulder, then, drawn forward, I +seized the parapet in both arms, and vaulted to the slate roof. + +A fog seemed to blot my eyes; I shook from hair to heel and laid my +head against the solid stone, while the blank, throbbing seconds past. +The Countess stood there, shocked and breathless. I saw her sleeve in +rags, and the snowy skin all bruised beneath. + +I tried to thank her; we both were badly shaken, and I do not know +that she even heard me. Her burnished hair had sagged to her white +neck; she twisted it up with unsteady fingers and turned away. I +followed slowly, back through the dim galleries, and presently she +seemed to remember my presence and waited for me as I felt my way +along the passage. + +"Every little shadow is a yawning gulf," I said. "My nerve is gone, +madame. The banging of my own sabre scares me." + +I strove to speak lightly, but my voice trembled, and so did hers when +she said: "High places always terrify me; something below seems to +draw me. Did you ever have that dreadful impulse to sway forward into +a precipice?" + +There was a subtle change in her voice and manner, something almost +friendly in her gray eyes as she looked curiously at me when we came +into the half-light of an inner gallery. + +What irony lurks in blind chance that I should owe this woman my +life--this woman whose home I had come to confiscate, whose friends I +had arrested, who herself was now my prisoner, destined to the shame +of exile! + +Perhaps she divined my thoughts--I do not know--but she turned her +troubled eyes to the arched window, where a painted saint imbedded in +golden glass knelt and beat his breast with two heavy stones. + +"Madame," I said, slowly, "your courage and your goodness to me have +made my task a heavy one. Can I lighten it for you in any manner?" + +She turned towards me, almost timidly. "Could I go to Morsbronn +before--before I cross the frontier? I have a house there; there are a +few things I would like to take--" + +She stopped short, seeing, doubtless, the pain of refusal in my face. +"But, after all, it does not matter. I suppose your orders are +formal?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"Then it is a matter of honor?" + +"A soldier is always on his honor; a soldier's daughter will +understand that." + +"I understand," she said. + +After a moment she smiled and moved forward, saying: + +"How the world tosses us--flinging strangers into each other's arms, +parting brothers, leading enemies across each other's paths! One has a +glimpse of kindly eyes--and never meets them again. Often and often I +have seen a good face in the lamp-lit street that I could call out to, +'Be friends with me!' Then it is gone--and I am gone--Oh, it is +curiously sad, Monsieur Scarlett!" + +"Does your creed teach you to care for everybody, madame?" + +"Yes--I try to. Some attract me so strongly--some I pity so. I think +that if people only knew that there was no such thing as a stranger in +the world, the world might be a paradise in time." + +"It might be, some day, if all the world were as good as you, +madame." + +"Oh, I am only a perplexed woman," she said, laughing. "I do so long +for the freedom of all the world, absolute individual liberty and no +law but that best of all laws--the law of the unselfish." + +We had stopped, by a mutual impulse, at the head of the stone +stairway. + +"Why do you shelter such a man as John Buckhurst?" I asked, +abruptly. + +She raised her eyes to me with perfect composure. + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Because I have come here from Paris to arrest him." + +She bent her head thoughtfully and laid the tips of her fingers on the +sculptured balustrade. + +"To me," she said, "there's no such thing as a political crime." + +"It is not for a political crime that we want John Buckhurst," I +said, watching her. "It is for a civil outrage." + +Her face was like marble; her hands tightened on the fretted +carving. + +"What crime is he charged with?" she asked, without moving. + +"He is charged with being a common thief," I said. + +Now there was color enough in her face, and to spare, for the +blood-stained neck and cheek, and even the bare shoulder under the +torn crape burned pink. + +"It is brutal to make such a charge!" she said. "It is shameful!--" +her voice quivered. "It is not true! Monsieur, give me your word of +honor that the government means what it says and nothing more!" + +"Madame," I said, "I give my word of honor that no political crime +is charged against that man." + +"Will you pledge me your honor that if he answers satisfactorily to +that false charge of theft, the government will let him go free?" + +"I will take it upon myself to do so," said I. "But what in Heaven's +name is this man to you, madame? He is a militant anarchist, whose +creed is not yours, whose propaganda teaches merciless violence, whose +programme is terror. He is well known in the faubourgs; Belleville is +his, and in the Château Rouge he has pointed across the river to the +rich quarters, calling it the promised land! Yet here, at La Trappe, +where your creed is peace and non-resistance, he is welcomed and +harbored, he is deferred to, he is made executive head of a free +commune which he has turned into a despotism ... for his own ends!" + +She was gazing at me with dilated eyes, hands holding tight to the +balustrade. + +"Did you not know that?" I asked, astonished. + +"No," she said. + +"You are not aware that John Buckhurst is the soul and centre of the +Belleville Reds?" + +"It is--it is false!" she stammered. + +"No, madame, it is true. He wears a smug mask here; he has deceived +you all." + +She stood there, breathing rapidly, her head high. + +"John Buckhurst will answer for himself," she said, steadily. + +"When, madame?" + +For answer she stepped across the hall and laid one hand against the +blank stone wall. Then, reaching upward, she drew from between the +ponderous blocks little strips of steel, colored like mortar, dropping +them to the stone floor, where they rang out. When she had flung away +the last one, she stepped back and set her frail shoulder to the wall; +instantly a mass of stone swung silently on an unseen pivot, a yellow +light streamed out, and there was a tiny chamber, illuminated by a +lamp, and a man just rising from his chair. + + + + +IV + +PRISONERS + + +Instantly I recognized in him the insolent priest who had confronted +me on my way to La Trappe that morning. I knew him, although now he +was wearing neither robe nor shovel-hat, nor those square shoes too +large to buckle closely over his flat insteps. + +And he knew me. + +He appeared admirably cool and composed, glancing at the Countess for +an instant with an interrogative expression; then he acknowledged my +presence by bowing almost humorously. + +"This is Monsieur Scarlett, of the Imperial Military Police," said +the Countess, in a clear voice, ending with that slightly rising +inflection which demands an answer. + +"Mr. Buckhurst," I said, "I am an Inspector of Military Police, and +I cannot begin to tell you what a pleasure this meeting is to me." + +"I have no doubt of that, monsieur," said Buckhurst, in his smooth, +almost caressing tones. "It, however, inconveniences me a great deal +to cross the frontier to-day, even in your company, otherwise I should +have surrendered with my confrères." + +"But there is no question of _your_ crossing the frontier, Mr. +Buckhurst," I said. + +His colorless eyes sought mine, then dropped. They were almost stone +white in the lamp-light--white as his delicately chiselled face and +hands. + +"Are we not to be exiled?" he asked. + +"_You_ are not," I said. + +"Am I not under arrest?" + +I stepped forward and placed him formally under arrest, touching him +slightly on the shoulder. He did not move a muscle, yet, beneath the +thin cloth of his coat I could divine a frame of iron. + +"Your creed is one of non-resistance to violence," I said--"is it +not?" + +"Yes," he replied. I saw that gray ring around the pale pupil of his +eyes contracting, little by little. + +"You have not asked me why I arrest you," I suggested, "and, +monsieur, I must ask you to step back from that table--quick!--don't +move!--not one finger!" + +For a second he looked into the barrel of my pistol with concentrated +composure, then glanced at the table-drawer which he had jerked open. +A revolver lay shining among the litter of glass tubes and papers in +the drawer. + +The Countess, too, saw the revolver and turned an astonished face to +my prisoner. + +"Who brought you here?" asked Buckhurst, quietly of me. + +"I did," said the Countess, her voice almost breaking. "Tell this +man and his government that you are ready to face every charge against +your honor! There is a dreadful mistake; they--they think you are--" + +"A thief," I interposed, with a smile. "The government only asks you +to prove that you are not." + +Slowly Buckhurst turned his eyes on the Countess; the faintest glimmer +of white teeth showed for an instant between the gray lines that were +his lips. + +"So _you_ brought this man here?" he said. "Oh, I am glad to know +it." + +"Then you cannot be that same John Buckhurst who stands in the +tribune of the Château Rouge and promises all Paris to his chosen +people," I remarked, smiling. + +"No," he said, slowly, "I cannot be that man, nor can I--" + +"Stop! Stand back from that table!" I cried. + +"I beg your pardon," he said, coolly. + +"Madame," said I, without taking my eyes from him, "in a community +dedicated to peace, a revolver is an anachronism. So I think--if you +move I will shoot you, Mr. Buckhurst!--so I think I had better take +it, table-drawer and all--" + +"Stop!" said Buckhurst. + +"Oh no, I can't stop now," said I, cheerfully, "and if you attempt +to upset that lamp you will make a sad mistake. Now walk to the door! +Turn your back! Go slowly!--halt!" + +With the table-drawer under one arm and my pistol-hand swinging, I +followed Buckhurst out into the hall. + +Daylight dazzled me; it must have affected Buckhurst, too, for he +reached out to the stone balustrade and guided himself down the steps, +five paces in front of me. + +Under the trees on the lawn, beside the driveway, I saw Dr. Delmont +standing, big, bushy head bent thoughtfully, hands clasped behind his +back. + +Near him, Tavernier and Bazard were lifting a few boxes into a +farm-wagon. The carriage from Trois-Feuilles was also there, a stumpy +Alsatian peasant on the box. But there were yet no signs of the escort +of gendarmes which had been promised me. + +As Buckhurst appeared, walking all alone ahead of me, Dr. Delmont +looked up with a bitter laugh. "So they found you, too? Well, +Buckhurst, this is too bad. They might have given you one more day on +your experiments." + +"What experiments?" I asked, glancing at the bottles and retorts in +the table-drawer. + +"Nitrogen for exhausted soil," said the Countess, quietly. + +I set the table-drawer on the grass, rested my pistol on my hip, and +looked around at my prisoners, who now were looking intently at me. + +"Gentlemen," said I, "let me warn you not to claim comradeship with +Mr. Buckhurst. And I will show you one reason why." + +I picked up from the table-drawer a little stick about five inches +long and held it up. + +"What is that, doctor? You don't know? Oh, you think it might be some +sample of fertilizer containing concentrated nitrogen? You are +mistaken, it is not nitrogen, but nitro-glycerine." + +Buckhurst's face changed slightly. + +"Is it not, Mr. Buckhurst?" I asked. + +He was silent. + +"Would you permit me to throw this bit of stuff at your feet?" And I +made a gesture. + +The superb nerve of the man was something to remember. He did not +move, but over his face there crept a dreadful pallor, which even the +others noticed, and they shrank away from him, shocked and amazed. + +"Here, gentlemen," I continued, "is a box with a German +label--'Oberlohe, Hanover.' The silicious earth with which +nitro-glycerine is mixed to make dynamite comes from Oberlohe, in +Hanover." + +I laid my pistol on the table, struck a match, and deliberately +lighted my stick of dynamite. It burned quietly with a brilliant +flame, and I laid it on the grass and let it burn out like a lump of +Greek fire. + +"Messieurs," I said, cocking and uncocking my pistol, "it is not +because this man is a dangerous, political criminal and a maker of +explosives that the government has sent me here to arrest him ... or +kill him. It is because he is a common thief,... a thief who steals +crucifixes,... like this one--" + +I brushed aside a pile of papers in the drawer and drew out a big gold +crucifix, marvellously chiselled from a lump of the solid metal.... +"A thief," I continued, "who strips the diamonds from crucifixes,... +as this has been stripped,... and who sells a single stone to a Jew in +Strasbourg, named Fishel Cohen,... now in prison to confront our +friend Buckhurst." + +In the dead silence I heard Dr. Delmont's heavy breathing. Tavernier +gave a dry sob and covered his face with his thin hands. The young +Countess stood motionless, frightfully white, staring at Buckhurst, +who had folded his arms. + +Sylvia Elven touched her, but the Countess shook her off and walked +straight to Buckhurst. + +"Look at me," she said. "I have promised you my friendship, my faith +and trust and support. And now I say to you, I believe in you. Tell +them where that crucifix came from." + +Buckhurst looked at me, long enough to see that the end of his rope +had come. Then he slowly turned his deadly eyes on the girl before +him. + +Scarlet to the roots of her hair, she stood there, utterly stunned. +The white edges of Buckhurst's teeth began to show again; for an +instant I thought he meant to strike her. Then the sudden double beat +of horses' hoofs broke out along the avenue below, and, through the +red sunset I saw a dozen horsemen come scampering up the drive toward +us. + +"They've sent me lancers instead of gendarmes for your escort," I +remarked to Dr. Delmont; at the same moment I stepped out into the +driveway to signal the riders, raising my hand. + +Instantly a pistol flashed--then another and another, and a dozen +harsh voices shouted: "Hourra! Hourra! Preussen!" + +"Mille tonnerre!" roared Delmont; "the Prussians are here!" + +"Look out! Stand back there! Get the women back!" I cried, as an +Uhlan wheeled his horse straight through a bed of geraniums and fired +his horse-pistol at me. + +Delmont dragged the young Countess to the shelter of an elm; Sylvia +Elven and Tavernier followed; Buckhurst ran to the carriage and leaped +in. + +"No resistance!" bellowed Delmont, as Bazard snatched up the pistol I +had taken from Buckhurst. But the invalid had already fired at a +horseman, and had gone down under the merciless hoofs with a lance +through his face. + +My first impulse was to shoot Buckhurst, and I started for him. + +Then, in front of me, a horse galloped into the table and fell with a +crash, hurling his rider at my feet. I can see him yet sprawling there +on the lawn, a lank, red-faced fellow, his helmet smashed in, and his +spurred boots sticking fast in the sod. + +Helter-skelter through the trees came the rest of the Uhlans, shouting +their hoarse "Hourra! Hourra! Preussen!"--white-and-black pennons +streaming from their lance-heads, pistols flashing in the early dusk. + +I ran past Bazard's trampled body and fired at an Uhlan who had seized +the horses which were attached to the carriage where Buckhurst sat. +The Uhlan's horse reared and plunged, carrying him away at a frightful +pace, and I do not know whether I hit him or not, but he dropped his +pistol, and I picked it up and fired at another cavalryman who shouted +and put his horse straight at me. + +Again I ran around the wagon, through a clump of syringa bushes, and +up the stone steps to the terrace, and after me galloped one of those +incomparable cossack riders--an Uhlan, lance in rest, setting his wiry +little horse to the stone steps with a loud "Hourra!" + +It was too steep a grade for the gallant horse. I flung my pistol in +the animal's face and the poor brute reared straight up and fell +backward, rolling over and over with his unfortunate rider, and +falling with a tremendous splash into the pool below. + +"In God's name stop that!" roared Delmont, from below. "Give up, +Scarlett! They mean us no harm!" + +I could see the good doctor on the lawn, waving his handkerchief +frantically at me; in a group behind stood the Countess and Sylvia; +Tavernier was kneeling beside Bazard's body; two Uhlans were raising +their stunned comrade from the wreck of the table; other Uhlans +cantered toward the foot of the terrace above which I stood. + +"Come down, hussar!" called an officer. "We respect your uniform." + +"Will you parley?" I asked, listening intently for the gallop of my +promised gendarmes. If I could only gain time and save Buckhurst. He +was there in the carriage; I had seen him spring into it when the +Germans burst in among the trees. + +"Foulez-fous fous rendre? Oui ou non?" shouted the officer, in his +terrible French. + +"Eh bien,... non!" I cried, and ran for the château. + +I heard the Uhlans dismount and run clattering and jingling up the +stone steps. As I gained the doorway they shot at me, but I only fled +the faster, springing up the stairway. Here I stood, sabre in hand, +ready to stop the first man. + +Up the stairs rushed three Uhlans, sabres shining in the dim light +from the window behind me; I laid my forefinger flat on the blade of +my sabre and shortened my arm for a thrust--then there came a blinding +flash, a roar, and I was down, trying to rise, until a clinched fist +struck me in the face and I fell flat on my back. + +Without any emotion whatever I saw an Uhlan raise his sabre to finish +me; also I saw a yellow-and-black sleeve interposed between death and +myself. + +"No butchery!" growled the big officer who had summoned me from the +lawn. "Cursed pig, you'd sabre your own grandmother! Lift him, Sepp! +You, there, Loisel!--lift him up. Is he gone?" + +"He is alive, Herr Rittmeister," said a soldier, "but his back is +broken." + +"It isn't," I said. + +"Herr Je!" muttered the Rittmeister; "an eel, and a Frenchman, and +nine long lives! Here, you hussar, what's the matter with you?" + +"One of them shot me; I thought it was to be sabres," said I, +weakly. + +"And why the devil wasn't it sabres!" roared the officer, turning on +his men. "One to three--and six more below! Sepp, you disgust me. +Carry him out!" + +I groaned as they lifted me. "Easy there!" growled the officer, +"don't pull him that way. Now, young hell-cat, set your teeth; you +have eight more lives yet." + +They got me out to the terrace, and carried me to the lawn. One of the +men brought a cup of water from the pool. + +"Herr Rittmeister," I said, faintly, "I had a prisoner here; he +should be in the carriage. Is he?" + +The officer walked briskly over to the carriage. "Nobody here but two +women and a scared peasant!" he called out. + +As I lay still staring up into the sky, I heard the Rittmeister +addressing Dr. Delmont in angry tones. "By every law of civilized war +I ought to hang you and your friend there! Civilians who fire on +troops are treated that way. But I won't. Your foolish companion lies +yonder with a lance through his mouth. He's dead; I say nothing. For +you, I have no respect. But I have for that hell-cat who did his duty. +You civilians--you go to the devil!" + +"Are not your prisoners sacred from insult?" asked the doctor, +angrily. + +"Prisoners! _My_ prisoners! You compliment yourself! Loisel! Send +those impudent civilians into the house! I won't look at them! They +make me sick!" + +The astonished doctor attempted to take his stand by me, offering his +services, but the troopers hustled him and poor Tavernier off up the +terrace steps. + +"The two ladies in the carriage, Herr Rittmeister?" said a +cavalryman, coming up at salute. + +"What? Ladies? Oh yes." Then he muttered in his mustache: "Always +around--always everywhere. They can't stay there. I want that +carriage. Sepp!" + +"At orders, Herr Rittmeister!" + +"Carry that gentleman to the carriage. Place Schwartz and Ruppert in +the wagon yonder. Get straw--you, Brauer, bring straw--and toss in +those boxes, if there is room. Where's Hofman?" + +"In the pool, Herr Rittmeister." + +"Take him out," said the officer, soberly. "Uhlans don't abandon +their dead." + +Two soldiers lifted me again and bore me away in the darkness. I was +perfectly conscious. + +And all the while I was listening for the gallop of my gendarmes, not +that I cared very much, now that Buckhurst was gone. + +"Herr Rittmeister," I said, as they laid me in the carriage, "ask +the Countess de Vassart if she will let me say good-bye to her." + +"With pleasure," said the officer, promptly. "Madame, here is a +polite young gentleman who desires to make his adieux. Permit me, +madame--he is here in the dark. Sepp! fall back! Loisel, advance ten +paces! Halt!" + +"Is it you, Monsieur Scarlett?" came an unsteady voice, from the +darkness. + +"Yes, madame. Can you forgive me?" + +"Forgive you? My poor friend, I have nothing to forgive. Are you +badly hurt, Monsieur Scarlett?" + +"I don't know," I muttered. + +Suddenly the chapel bell of La Trappe rang out a startling peal; the +Prussian captain shouted: "Stop that bell! Shoot every civilian in +the house!" But the Uhlans, who rushed up the terrace, found the great +doors bolted and the lower windows screened with steel shutters. + +On the battlements of the south wing a red radiance grew brighter; +somebody had thrown wood into the iron basket of the ancient beacon, +and set fire to it. + +"That teaches me a lesson!" bawled the enraged Rittmeister, shaking +his fist up at the brightening alarm signal. + +He vaulted into his saddle, wheeled his horse and rode up to the +peasant, Brauer, who, frightened to the verge of stupidity, sat on the +carriage-box. + +"Do you know the wood-road that leads to Gunstett through the +foot-hills?" he demanded, controlling his fury with a strong effort. + +The blank face of the peasant was answer enough; the Rittmeister +glared around; his eyes fell on the Countess. + +"You know this country, madame?" + +"Yes, monsieur." + +"Will you set us on our way through the Gunstett hill-road?" + +"No." + +The chapel bell was clanging wildly; the beacon shot up in a whirling +column of sparks and red smoke. + +"Put that woman into the carriage!" bellowed the officer. "I'm +cursed if I leave her to set the whole country yapping at our heels! +Loisel, put her in beside the prisoner! Madame, it is useless to +resist. Hark! What's that sound of galloping?" + +I listened. I heard nothing save the clamor of the chapel bell. + +An Uhlan laid a heavy hand on the shoulder of the listening Countess; +she tried to draw back, but he pushed her brutally into the carriage, +and she stumbled and fell into the cushions beside me. + +"Uhlans, into your saddles!" cried the Rittmeister, sharply. "Two +men to the wagon!--a man on the box there! Here you, Jacques Bonhomme, +drive carefully or I'll hang you higher than the Strasbourg clock. Are +the wounded in the straw? Sepp, take the riderless horses. Peloton, +attention! Draw sabres! March! Trot!" + +Fever had already begun to turn my head; the jolting of the carriage +brought me to my senses at times; at times, too, I could hear the two +wounded Uhlans groaning in the wagon behind me, the tramping of the +cavalry ahead, the dull rattle of lance butts in the leather +stirrup-boots. + +If I could only have fainted, but I could not, and the agony grew so +intense that I bit my lip through to choke the scream that strained my +throat. + +Once the carriage stopped; in the darkness I heard somebody whisper: +"There go the French riders!" And I fancied I heard a far echo of +hoof-strokes along the road to La Trappe. It might have been the +fancy of an intermittent delirium; it may have been my delayed +gendarmes--I never knew. And the carriage presently moved on more +smoothly, as though we were now on one of those even military +high-roads which traverse France from Luxembourg to the sea. + +Which way we were going I did not know, I did not care. Absurdly +mingled with sick fancies came flashes of reason, when I could see the +sky frosted with silver, and little, bluish stars peeping down. At +times I recognized the mounted men around me as Prussian Uhlans, and +weakly wondered by what deviltry they had got into France, and what +malignant spell they cast over the land that the very stones did not +rise up and smite them from their yellow-and-black saddles. + +Once--it was, I think, very near daybreak--I came out of a dream in +which I was swimming through oceans of water, drinking as I swam. The +carriage had stopped; I could not see the lancers, but presently I +heard them all talking in loud, angry voices. There appeared to be +some houses near by; I heard a dog barking, a great outcry of pigs and +feathered fowls, the noise of a scuffle, a trampling of heavy boots, a +shot! + +Then the terrible voice of the Rittmeister: "Hang that man to his +barn gate! Pig of an assassin, I'll teach you to murder German +soldiers!" + +A woman began to scream without ceasing. + +"Burn that house!" bellowed the Rittmeister. + +Through the prolonged screaming I heard the crash of window-glass; +presently a dull red light grew out of the gloom, brighter and +brighter. The screaming never ceased. + +"Uhlans! Mount!" came the steady voice of the Rittmeister; the +carriage started. Almost at the word the darkness turned to flame; +against the raging furnace of a house on fire I saw the figure of a +man, inky black, hanging from the high cross-bar of the cow-yard gate, +and past him filed the shadowy horsemen, lances slanting backward from +their stirrups. + +The last I remember was seeing the dead man's naked feet--for they +hanged him in his night-shirt--and the last I heard was that awful +screaming from the red shadows that flickered across the fields of +uncut wheat. + +For presently my madness began again, and again I was bathed to the +mouth in cold, sweet waters, and I drank as I swam lazily in the +sunshine. + +My next lucid interval came from pain almost unendurable. We were +fording a river in bright starlight; the carriage bumped across the +stones, water washed and slopped over the carriage floor. To right and +left, Prussian lancers were riding, and I saw the water boiling under +their horses and their long lances aslant the stars. + +But there were more horsemen now, scores and scores of them, trampling +through the shallow river. And beyond I could see a line of cannon, +wallowing through the water, shadowy artillerymen clinging to forge +and caisson, mounted men astride straining teams, tall officers on +either flank, sitting their horses motionless in mid-stream. + +The carriage stopped. + +"Are you suffering?" came a low voice, close to my ear. + +"Madame, could I have a little of that water?" I muttered. + +Very gently she laid me back. I was entirely without power to move +below my waist, or to support my body. + +She filled my cap with river water and held it while I drank. After I +had my fill she bathed my face, passing her wet hands through my hair +and over my eyes. The carriage moved on. + +[Illustration: "TO RIGHT AND LEFT, PRUSSIAN LANCERS WERE RIDING"] + +After a while she whispered. + +"Are you awake?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"See the dawn--how red it is on the hills! There are vineyards there +on the heights,... and a castle,... and soldiers moving out across the +river meadows." + +The rising sun was shining in my eyes as we came to a halt before +a small stone bridge over which a column of cavalry was +passing--Prussian hussars, by their crimson dolmans and little, flat +busbies. + +Our Uhlan escort grouped themselves about us to watch the hussars +defile at a trot, and I saw the Rittmeister rigidly saluting their +standards as they bobbed past above a thicket of sabres. + +"What are these Uhlans doing?" broke in a nasal voice behind us; an +officer, followed by two orderlies and a trumpeter, came galloping up +through the mud. + +"Who's that--a dead Frenchman?" demanded the officer, leaning over +the edge of the carriage to give me a near-sighted stare. Then he saw +the Countess, stared at her, and touched the golden peak of his +helmet. + +"At your service, madame," he said. "Is this officer dead?" + +"Dying, general," said the Rittmeister, at salute. + +"Then he will not require these men. Herr Rittmeister, I take your +Uhlans for my escort. Madame, you have my sympathy; can I be of +service?" + +He spoke perfect French. The Countess looked up at him in a bewildered +way. "You cannot mean to abandon this dying man here?" she asked. + +There was a silence, broken brusquely by the Rittmeister. "That +Frenchman did his duty!" + +"Did he?" said the general, staring at the Countess. + +"Very well; I want that carriage, but I won't take it. Give the +driver a white flag, and have him drive into the French lines. Herr +Rittmeister, give your orders! Madame, your most devoted!" And he +wheeled his beautiful horse and trotted off down the road, while the +Rittmeister hastily tied a handkerchief to a stick and tossed it up to +the speechless peasant on the box. + +"Morsbronn is the nearest French post!" he said, in French. Then he +bent from his horse and looked down at me. + +"You did your duty!" he snapped, and, barely saluting the Countess, +touched spurs to his mount and disappeared, followed at a gallop by +his mud-splashed Uhlans. + + + + +V + +THE IMMORTALS + + +When I became conscious again I was lying on a table. Two men were +leaning over me; a third came up, holding a basin. There was an odor +of carbolic in the air. + +The man with the basin made a horrid grimace when he caught my eye; +his face was a curious golden yellow, his eyes jet black, and at first +I took him for a fever phantom. + +Then my bewildered eyes fastened on his scarlet fez, pulled down over +his left ear, the sky-blue Zouave jacket, with its bright-yellow +arabesques, the canvas breeches, leggings laced close over the thin +shins and ankles of an Arab. And I knew him for a soldier of African +riflemen, one of those brave children of the desert whom we called +"Turcos," and whose faith in the greatness of France has never +faltered since the first blue battalion of Africa was formed under the +eagles of the First Empire. + +"Hallo, Mustapha!" I said, faintly; "what are they doing to me +now?" + +The Turco's golden-bronze visage relaxed; he saluted me. + +"Macache sabir," he said; "they picked a bullet from your spine, my +inspector." + +An officer in the uniform of a staff-surgeon came around the table +where I was lying. + +"Bon!" he exclaimed, eying me sharply through his gold-rimmed +glasses. "Can you feel your hind-legs now, young man?" + +I could feel them all too intensely, and I said so. + +The surgeon began to turn down his shirt-sleeves and button his cuffs, +saying, "You're lucky to have a pain in your legs." Turning to the +Turco, he added, "Lift him!" And the giant rifleman picked me up and +laid me in a long chair by the window. + +"Your case is one of those amusing cases," continued the surgeon, +buckling on his sword and revolver; "very amusing, I assure you. As +for the bullet, I could have turned it out with a straw, only it +rested there _exactly_ where it stopped the use of those long legs of +yours!--a fine example of temporary reflex paralysis, and no +hemorrhage to speak of--nothing to swear about, young man. By-the-way, +you ought to go to bed for a few days." + +He clasped his short baldric over his smartly buttoned tunic. The room +was shaking with the discharges of cannon. + +"A millimetre farther and that bullet would have cracked your spine. +Remember that and keep off your feet. Ouf! The cannon are tuning up!" +as a terrible discharge shattered the glass in the window-panes beside +me. + +"Where am I, doctor?" I asked. + +"Parbleu, in Morsbronn! Can't you hear the orchestra, zim-bam-zim! +The Prussians are playing their Wagner music for us. Here, swallow +this. How do you feel now?" + +"Sleepy. Did you say a day or two, doctor?" + +"I said a week or two--perhaps longer. I'll look in this evening if +I'm not up to my chin in amputations. Take these every hour if in +pain. Go to sleep, my son." + +With a paternal tap on my head, he drew on his scarlet, gold-banded +cap, tightened the check strap, and walked out of the room. +Down-stairs I heard him cursing because his horse had been shot. I +never saw him again. + +Dozing feverishly, hearing the cannon through troubled slumber, I +awoke toward noon quite free from any considerable pain, but thirsty +and restless, and numbed to the hips. Alarmed, I strove to move my +feet, and succeeded. Then, freed from the haunting terror of +paralysis, I fell to pinching my legs with satisfaction, my eyes +roving about in search of water. + +The room where I lay was in disorder; it appeared to be completely +furnished with well-made old pieces, long out of date, but not old +enough to be desirable. Chairs, sofas, tables were all fashioned in +that poor design which marked the early period of the Consulate; the +mirror was a fine sheet of glass imbedded in Pompeian and Egyptian +designs; the clock, which had stopped, was a meaningless lump of gilt +and marble, supported on gilt sphinxes. Over the bed hung a tarnished +canopy broidered with a coronet, which, from the strawberry leaves and +the pearls raised above them, I took to be the coronet of a count of +English origin. + +The room appeared to be very old, and I knew the house must have stood +for centuries somewhere along the single street of Morsbronn, though I +could not remember seeing any building in the village which, judging +from the exterior, seemed likely to contain such a room as this. + +The nearer and heavier cannon-shots had ceased, but the window-sashes +hummed with the steady thunder of a battle going on somewhere among +the mountains. Knowing the Alsatian frontier fairly well, I understood +that a battle among the mountains must mean that our First Corps had +been attacked, and that we were on the defensive on French soil. + +The booming of the guns was unbroken, as steady and sustained as the +eternal roar of a cataract. At moments I believed that I could +distinguish the staccato crashes of platoon firing, but could not be +certain in the swelling din. + +As I lay there on my long, cushioned chair, burning with that +insatiable thirst which, to thoroughly appreciate, one must be +wounded, the door opened and a Turco soldier came into the room and +advanced toward me on tip-toe. + +He wore full uniform, was fully equipped, crimson chechia, snowy +gaiters, and terrible sabre-bayonet. + +I beckoned him, and the tall, bronzed fellow came up, smiling, showing +his snowy, pointed teeth under a crisp beard. + +"Water, Mustapha," I motioned with stiffened lips, and the good +fellow unslung his blue water-bottle and set it to my burning mouth. + +"Merci, mon brave!" I said. "May you dwell in Paradise with Ali, the +fourth Caliph, the Lion of God!" + +The Turco stared, muttered the Tekbir in a low voice, bent and kissed +my hands. + +"Were you once an officer of our African battalions?" he asked, in +the Arab tongue. + +"Sous-officier of spahi cavalry," I said, smiling. "And you are a +Kabyle mountaineer from Constantine, I see." + +"It is true as I recite the fatha," cried the great fellow, beaming +on me. "We Kabyles love our officers and bear witness to the unity of +God, too. I am a marabout, my inspector, Third Turcos, and I am +anxious to have a Prussian ask me who were my seven ancestors." + +The music of his long-forgotten tongue refreshed me; old scenes and +memories of the camp at Oran, the never-to-be-forgotten cavalry with +the scarlet cloaks, rushed on me thick and fast; incidents, trivial +matters of the bazaars, faces of comrades dead, came to me in +flashes. My eyes grew moist, my throat swelled, I whimpered: + +"It is all very well, mon enfant, but I'm here with a hole in me +stuffed full of lint, and you have your two good arms and as many legs +with which to explain to the Prussians who your seven ancestors may +be. Give me a drink, in God's name!" + +Again he held up the blue water-bottle, saying, gravely: "We both +worship the same God, my inspector, call Him what we will." + +After a moment I said: "Is it a battle or a bousculade? But I need +not ask; the cannon tell me enough. Are they storming the heights, +Mustapha?" + +"Macache comprendir," said the soldier, dropping into patois. "There +is much noise, but we Turcos are here in Morsbronn, and we have seen +nothing but sparrows." + +I listened for a moment; the sound of the cannonade appeared to be +steadily receding westward. + +"It seems to me like retreat!" I said, sharply. + +"Ritrite? Quis qui ci, ritrite?" + +I looked at the simple fellow with tears in my eyes. + +"You would not understand if I told you," said I. "Are you detailed +to look after me?" + +He said he was, and I informed him that I needed nobody; that it was +much more important for everybody that he should rejoin his battalion +in the street below, where even now I could hear the Algerian bugles +blowing a silvery sonnerie--"Garde à vous!" + +"I am Salah Ben-Ahmed, a marabout of the Third Turcos," he said, +proudly, "and I have yet to explain to these Prussians who my seven +ancestors were. Have I my inspector's permission to go?" + +He was fairly trembling as the imperative clangor of the bugles rang +through the street; his fine nostrils quivered, his eyes glittered +like a cobra's. + +"Go, Salah Ben-Ahmed, the marabout," said I, laughing. + +The soldier stiffened to attention; his bronzed hand flew to his +scarlet fez, and, "Salute! O my inspector!" he cried, sonorously, and +was gone at a bound. + +That breathless unrest which always seizes me when men are at one +another's throats set me wriggling and twitching, and peering from the +window, through which I could not see because of the blinds. Command +after command was ringing out in the street below. "Forward!" shouted +a resonant voice, and "Forward! forward! forward!" echoed the voices +of the captains, distant and more distant, then drowned in the rolling +of kettle-drums and the silvery clang of Moorish cymbals. + +The band music of the Algerian infantry died away in the distant +tumult of the guns; faintly, at moments, I could still hear the shrill +whistle of their flutes, the tinkle of the silver chimes on their +_toug_; then a blank, filled with the hollow roar of battle, then a +clear note from their reeds, a tinkle, an echoing chime--and nothing, +save the immense monotone of the cannonade. + +I had been lying there motionless for an hour, my head on my hand, +snivelling, when there came a knock at the door, and I hastily +buttoned my blood-stained shirt to the throat, threw a tunic over my +shoulders, and cried, "Come in!" + +A trick of memory and perhaps of physical weakness had driven from my +mind all recollection of the Countess de Vassart since I had come to +my senses under the surgeon's probe. But at the touch of her fingers +on the door outside, I knew her--I was certain that it could be nobody +but my Countess, who had turned aside in her gentle pilgrimage to lift +this Lazarus from the waysides of a hostile world. + +She entered noiselessly, bearing a bowl of broth and some bread; but +when she saw me sitting there with eyes and nose all red and swollen +from snivelling she set the bowl on a table and hurried to my side. + +"What is it? Is the pain so dreadful?" she whispered. + +"No--oh no. I'm only a fool, and quite hungry, madame." + +She brought the broth and bread and a glass of the most exquisite wine +I ever tasted--a wine that seemed to brighten the whole room with its +liquid sunshine. + +"Do you know where you are?" she asked, gravely. + +"Oh yes--in Morsbronn." + +"And in whose house, monsieur?" + +"I don't know--" I glanced instinctively at the tarnished coronet on +the canopy above the bed. "Do you know, Madame la Comtesse?" + +"I ought to," she said, faintly amused. "I was born in this room. It +was to this house that I desired to come before--my exile." + +Her eyes softened as they rested first on one familiar object, then on +another. + +"The house has always been in our family," she said. "It was once +one of those fortified farms in the times when every hamlet was a +petty kingdom--like the King of Yvetôt's domain. Doubtless the ancient +Trécourts also wore cotton night-caps for their coronets." + +"I remember now," said I, "a stone turret wedged in between two +houses. Is this it?" + +"Yes, it is all that is left of the farm. My ancestors built this +crazy old row of houses for their tenants." + +After a silence I said, "I wish I could look out of the window." + +She hesitated. "I don't suppose it could harm you?" + +"It will harm me if I don't," said I. + +She went to the window and folded up the varnished blinds. + +"How dreadful the cannonade is growing," she said. "Wait! don't +think of moving! I will push you close to the window, where you can +see." + +The tower in which my room was built projected from the rambling row +of houses, so that my narrow window commanded a view of almost the +entire length of the street. This street comprised all there was of +Morsbronn; it lay between a double rank of houses constructed of +plaster and beams, and surmounted by high-pointed gables and slated or +tiled roofs, so fantastic that they resembled steeples. + +Down the street I could see the house that I had left twenty-four +hours before, never dreaming what my journey to La Trappe held in +store for me. One or two dismounted soldiers of the Third Hussars sat +in the doorway, listening to the cannon; but, except for these +listless troopers, a few nervous sparrows, and here and there a +skulking peasant, slinking off with a load of household furniture on +his back, the street was deserted. + +Everywhere shutters had been put up, blinds closed, curtains drawn. +Not a shred of smoke curled from the chimneys of these deserted +houses; the heavy gables cast sinister shadows over closed doors and +gates barred and locked, and it made me think of an unseaworthy ship, +prepared for a storm, so bare and battened down was this long, dreary +commune, lying there in the August sun. + +Beside the window, close to my face, was a small, square loop-hole, +doubtless once used for arquebus fire. It tired me to lean on the +window, so I contented myself with lying back and turning my head, and +I could see quite as well through the loop-hole as from the window. + +Lying there, watching the slow shadows crawling out over the sidewalk, +I had been for some minutes thinking of my friend Mr. Buckhurst, when +I heard the young Countess stirring in the room behind me. + +"You are not going to be a cripple?" she said, as I turned my head. + +"Oh no, indeed!" said I. + +"Nor die?" she added, seriously. + +"How could a man die with an angel straight from heaven to guard him! +Pardon, I am only grateful, not impertinent." I looked at her humbly, +and she looked at me without the slightest expression. Oh, it was all +very well for the Countess de Vassart to tuck up her skirts and rake +hay, and live with a lot of half-crazy apostles, and throw her fortune +to the proletariat and her reputation to the dogs. She could do it; +she was Éline Cyprienne de Trécourt, Countess de Vassart; and if her +relatives didn't like her views, that was their affair; and if the +Faubourg Saint-Germain emitted moans, that concerned the noble +faubourg and not James Scarlett, a policeman attached to a division of +paid mercenaries. + +Oh yes, it was all very well for the Countess de Vassart to play at +democracy with her unbalanced friends, but it was also well for +Americans to remember that she was French, and that this was France, +and that in France a countess was a countess until she was buried in +the family vault, whether she had chosen to live as a countess or as +Doll Dairymaid. + +The young girl looked at me curiously, studying me with those +exquisite gray eyes of hers. Pensive, distraite, she sat there, the +delicate contour of her head outlined against the sunny window, which +quivered with the slow boom! boom! of the cannonade. + +"Are you English, Monsieur Scarlett?" she asked, quietly. + +"American, madame." + +"And yet you take service under an emperor." + +"I have taken harder service than that." + +"Of necessity?" + +"Yes, madame." + +She was silent. + +"Would it amuse you to hear what I have been?" I said, smiling. + +"That is not the word," she said, quietly. "To hear of hardship +helps one to understand the world." + +The cannonade had been growing so loud again that it was with +difficulty that we could make ourselves audible to each other. The jar +of the discharges began to dislodge bits of glass and little +triangular pieces of plaster, and the solid walls of the tower shook +till even the mirror began to sway and the tarnished gilt sconces to +quiver in their sockets. + +"I wish you were not in Morsbronn," I said. + +"I feel safer here in my own house than I should at La Trappe," she +replied. + +She was probably thinking of the dead Uhlan and of poor Bazard; +perhaps of the wretched exposure of Buckhurst--the man she had trusted +and who had proved to be a swindler, and a murderous one at that. + +Suddenly a shell fell into the court-yard opposite, bursting +immediately in a cloud of gravel which rained against our turret like +hail. + +Stunned for an instant, the Countess stood there motionless, her face +turned towards the window. I struggled to sit upright. + +She looked calmly at me; the color came back into her face, and in +spite of my remonstrance she walked to the window, closed the heavy +outside shutters and the blinds. As she was fastening them I heard the +whizzing quaver of another shell, the racket of its explosion, the +crash of plaster. + +[Illustration: "A COMPANY OF TURCOS CAME UP"] + +"Where is the safest place for us to stay?" she asked. Her voice was +perfectly steady. + +"In the cellar. I beg you to go at once." + +Bang! a shell blew up in a shower of slates and knocked a chimney into +a heap of bricks. + +"Do you insist on staying by that loop-hole?" she asked, without a +quiver in her voice. + +"Yes, I do," said I. "Will you go to the cellar?" + +"No," she said, shortly. + +I saw her walk toward the rear of the room, hesitate, sink down by the +edge of the bed and lay her face in the pillow. + +Two shells burst with deafening reports in the street; the young +Countess covered her face with both hands. Shell after shell came +howling, whistling, whizzing into the village; the two hussars had +disappeared, but a company of Turcos came up on a run and began to dig +a trench across the street a hundred yards west of our turret. + +How they made the picks and shovels fly! Shells tore through the air +over them, bursting on impact with roof and chimney; the Turcos tucked +up their blue sleeves, spat on their hands, and dug away like +terriers, while their officers, smoking the eternal cigarette, coolly +examined the distant landscape through their field-glasses. + +Shells rained fast on Morsbronn; nearer and nearer bellowed the guns; +the plaster ceiling above my head cracked and fell in thin flakes, +filling the room with an acrid, smarting dust. Again and again metal +fragments from shells rang out on the heavy walls of our turret; a +roof opposite sank in; flames flickered up through clouds of dust; a +heavy yellow smoke, swarming with sparks, rolled past my window. + +Down the street a dull sound grew into a steady roar; the Turcos +dropped pick and shovel and seized their rifles. + +"Garde! Garde à vous!" rang their startled bugles; the tumult +increased to a swelling uproar, shouting, cheering, the crash of +shutters and of glass, and-- + +"The Prussians!" bellowed the captain. "Turcos--charge!" + +His voice was lost; a yelling mass of soldiery burst into view; spiked +helmets and bayonets glittering through the smoke, the Turcos were +whirled about like brilliant butterflies in a tornado; the fusillade +swelled to a stupefying din, exploding in one terrible crash; and, +wrapped in lightning, the Prussian onset passed. + +From the stairs below came the sound of a voiceless struggle, the +trample and panting and clicking of steel, till of a sudden a voice +burst out into a dreadful screaming. A shot followed--silence--another +shot--then the stairs outside shook under the rush of mounting men. + +As the door burst open I felt a touch on my arm; the Countess de +Vassart stood erect and pale, one slender, protecting hand resting +lightly on my shoulder; a lieutenant of Prussian infantry confronted +us; straight, heavy sword drawn, rigid, uncompromising, in his +faultless gray-and-black uniform, with its tight, silver waist-sash. + +"I do not have you thrown into the street," he said to me, in +excellent French, "because there has been no firing from the windows +in this village. Otherwise--other measures. Be at ease, madame, I +shall not harm your invalid." + +He glanced at me out of his near-sighted eyes, dropped the point of +his sword to the stone floor, and slowly caressed his small, blond +mustache. + +"How many troops passed through here yesterday morning?" he asked. + +I was silent. + +"There was artillery, was there not?" + +I only looked at him. + +"Do you hear?" he repeated, sharply. "You are a prisoner, and I am +questioning you." + +"You have that useless privilege," I observed. + +"If you are insolent I will have you shot!" he retorted, staring +haughtily at me. + +I glanced out of the window. + +There was a pause; the hand of the Countess de Vassart trembled on my +shoulder. + +Under the window strident Prussian bugles were blowing a harsh +summons; the young officer stepped to the loop-hole and looked out, +then hastily removed his helmet and thrust his blond head through the +smoky aperture. "March those prisoners in below!" he shouted down. + +Then he withdrew his head, put on his polished helmet of black +leather, faced with the glittering Prussian eagle, and tightened the +gold-scaled cheek-guard. + +A moment later came a trample of feet on the landing outside, the door +was flung open, and three prisoners were brutally pushed into the +room. + +I tried to turn and look at them; they stood in the dusk near the bed, +but I could only make out that one was a Turco, his jacket in rags, +his canvas breeches covered with mud. + +Again the lieutenant came to the loop-hole and glanced out, then shook +his head, motioning the soldiers back. + +"It is too high and the arc of fire too limited," he said, shortly. +"Detail four men to hold the stairs, ten men and a sergeant in the +room below, and you'd better take your prisoners down there. Bayonet +that Turco tiger if he shows his teeth again. March!" + +As the prisoners filed out I turned once more and thought I recognized +Salah Ben-Ahmed in the dishevelled Turco, but could not be certain, +so disfigured and tattered the soldier appeared. + +"Here, you hussar prisoner!" cried the lieutenant, pointing at me +with his white-gloved finger, "turn your head and busy yourself with +what concerns you. And you, madame," he added, pompously, "see that +you give us no trouble and stay in this room until you have permission +to leave." + +"Are--are you speaking to me, monsieur?" asked the Countess, amazed. +Then she rose, exasperated. + +"Your insolence disgraces your uniform," she said. "Go to your +French prisoners and learn the rudiments of courtesy!" + +The officer reddened to his colorless eyebrows; his little, +near-sighted eyes became stupid and fixed; he smoothed the blond down +on his upper lip with hesitating fingers. + +Suddenly he turned and marched out, slamming the door violently behind +him. + +At this impudence the eyes of the Countess began to sparkle, and an +angry flush mounted to her cheeks. + +"Madame," said I, "he is only a German boy, unbalanced by his own +importance and his first battle. But he will never forget this lesson; +let him digest it in his own manner." + +And he did, for presently there came a polite knock at the door, and +the lieutenant reappeared, bowing rigidly, one hand on his sword-hilt, +the other holding his helmet by the gilt spike. + +"Lieutenant von Eberbach present to apologize," he said, jerkily, red +as a beet. "Begs permission to take a half-dozen of wine; men very +thirsty." + +"Lieutenant von Eberbach may take the wine," said the Countess, +calmly. + +"Rudeness without excuse!" muttered the boy; "beg the graciously +well-born lady not to judge my regiment or my country by it. Can +Lieutenant von Eberbach make amends?" + +"The Lieutenant has made them," said the Countess. "The merciful +treatment of French prisoners will prove his sincerity." + +The lad made another rigid bow and got himself out of the door with +more or less dignity, and the Countess drew a chair beside my +sofa-chair and sat down, eyes still bright with the cinders of a wrath +I had never suspected in her. + +Together we looked down into the street. + +Under the window the flat, high-pitched drums began to rattle; deep +voices shouted; the whole street undulated with masses of +gray-and-black uniforms, moving forward through the smoke. A superb +regimental band began to play; the troops broke out into heavy +cheering. + +"Vorwärts! Vorwärts!" came the steady commands. The band passed with +a dull flash of instruments; a thousand brass helmet-spikes pricked +the smoke; the tread of the Prussian infantry shook the earth. + +"The invasion has begun," I said. + +Her face was expressionless, save for the brightness of her eyes. + +And now another band sounded, playing "I Had a Comrade!" and the +whole street began to ring with the noble marching-song of the coming +regiment. + +"Bavarian infantry," I whispered, as the light-blue columns wheeled +around the curve and came swinging up the street; for I could see the +yellow crown on the collars of their tunics, and the heavy leather +helmets, surmounted by chenille rolls. + +Behind them trotted a squadron of Uhlans on their dainty horses, under +a canopy of little black-and-white flags fluttering from the points of +their lances. + +"Uhlans," I murmured. I heard the faint click of her teeth closing +tightly. + +Hussars in crimson tunics, armed with curious weapons, half carbine, +half pistol, followed the Uhlans, filling the smoky street with a +flood of gorgeous color. + +Suddenly a company of Saxon pioneers arrived on the double-quick, +halted, fell out, and began to break down the locked doors of the +houses on either side of the street. At the same time Prussian +infantry came hurrying past, dragging behind them dozens of vehicles, +long hay-wagons, gardeners' carts, heavy wheelbarrows, even a dingy +private carriage, with tarnished lamps, rocking crazily on rusty +springs. + +The soldiers wheeled these wagons into a double line, forming a +complete chain across the street, where the Turcos had commenced to +dig their ditch and breastworks--a barricade high enough to check a +charge, and cunningly arranged, too, for the wooden abatis could not +be seen from the eastern end of the street, where a charge of French +infantry or cavalry must enter Morsbronn if it entered at all. + +We watched the building of the barricade, fascinated. Soldiers entered +the houses on either side of the street, only to reappear at the +windows and thrust out helmeted heads. More soldiers came, running +heavily--the road swarmed with them; some threw themselves flat under +the wagons, some knelt, thrusting their needle-guns through the +wheel-spokes; others remained standing, rifles resting over the rails +of the long, skeleton hay-wagons. + +"Something is going to happen," I said, as a group of smartly +uniformed officers appeared on the roof of the opposite house and +hastily scrambled to the ridge-pole. + +Something was surely going to happen; the officers were using their +field-glasses and pointing excitedly across the roof-tops; the windows +of every house as far as I could see were black with helmets; a +regiment in column came up on the double, halted, disintegrated, +melting away behind walls, into yards, doorways, gardens. + +A colonel of infantry, splendidly mounted, drew bridle under our +loop-hole and looked up at the officers on the roof across the way. + +"Attention, you up there!" he shouted. "Is it infantry?" + +"No!" bawled an officer, hollowed hand to his cheek. "It's their +brigade of heavy cavalry coming like an earthquake!" + +"The cuirassiers!" I cried, electrified. "It's Michel's cuirassiers, +madame! And--oh, the barricade!" I groaned, twisting my fingers in +helpless rage. "They'll be caught in a trap; they'll die like flies +in that street." + +"This is horrible!" muttered the girl. "Don't they know the street +is blocked? Can't they find out before they ride into this ravine +below us? Will they all be killed here under our windows?" + +She sprang to her feet, stood a moment, then stepped swiftly forward +into the angle of the tower. + +"Look there!" she cried, in terror. + +"Push my chair--quick!" I said. She dragged it forward. + +An old house across the street, which had been on fire, had collapsed +into a mere mound of slate, charred beams, and plaster. Through the +brown heat which quivered above the ruins I could see out into the +country. And what I saw was a line of hills, crowned with smoke, a +rolling stretch of meadow below, set here and there with shot-torn +trees and hop-poles; and over this uneven ground two regiments of +French cuirassiers and two squadrons of lancers moving slowly forward +as though on parade. + +Above them, around them, clouds of smoke puffed up suddenly and +floated away--the shells from Prussian batteries on the heights. Long, +rippling crashes broke out, belting the fields with smoky breastworks, +where a Prussian infantry regiment, knee-deep in smoke, was firing on +the advancing cavalry. + +The cuirassiers moved on slowly, the sun a blinding sheet of fire on +their armor; now and then a horse tossed his beautiful head, now and +then a steel helmet turned, flashing. + +Grief-stricken, I groaned aloud: "Madame, there rides the finest +cavalry in the world!--to annihilation." + +How could I know that they were coming deliberately to sacrifice +themselves?--that they rode with death heavy on their souls, knowing +well there was no hope, understanding that they were to die to save +the fragments of a beaten army? + +Yet something of this I suspected, for already I saw the long, dark +Prussian lines overlapping the French flank; I heard the French +mitrailleuses rattling through the cannon's thunder, and I saw an +entire French division, which I did not then know to be Lartigue's, +falling back across the hills. + +And straight into the entire Prussian army rode the "grosse +cavallerie" and the lancers. + +"They are doomed, like their fathers," I muttered--"sons of the +cuirassiers of Waterloo. See what men can do for France!" + +The young Countess started and stood up very straight. + +"Look, madame!" I said, harshly--"look on the men of France! You say +you do not understand the narrow love of country! Look!" + +"It is too pitiful, too horrible," she said, hoarsely. "How the +horses fall in that meadow!" + +"They will fall thicker than that in this street!" + +"See!" she cried; "they have begun to gallop! They are coming! Oh, I +cannot look!--I--I cannot!" + +Far away, a thin cry sounded above the cannon din; the doomed +cuirassiers were cheering. It was the first charge they had ever made; +nobody had ever seen cavalry of their arm on any battle-field of +Europe since Waterloo. + +Suddenly their long, straight blades shot into the air, the +cuirassiers broke into a furious gallop, and that mass of steel-clad +men burst straight down the first slope of the plateau, through the +Prussian infantry, then wheeled and descended like a torrent on +Morsbronn. + +In the first ranks galloped the giants of the Eighth Cuirassiers, +Colonel Guiot de la Rochere at their head; the Ninth Cuirassiers +thundered behind them; then came the lancers under a torrent of +red-and-white pennons. Nothing stopped them, neither hedges nor +ditches nor fallen trees. + +Their huge horses bounded forward, manes in the wind, tails streaming, +iron hoofs battering the shaking earth; the steel-clad riders, sabres +pointed to the front, leaned forward in their saddles. + +Now among the thicket of hop-vines long lines of black arose; there +was a flash, a belt of smoke, another flash--then the metallic rattle +of bullets on steel breastplates. Entire ranks of cuirassiers went +down in the smoke of the Prussian rifles, the sinister clash and crash +of falling armor filled the air. Sheets of lead poured into them; the +rattle of empty scabbards on stirrups, the metallic ringing of bullets +on helmet and cuirass, the rifle-shots, the roar of the shells +exploding swelled into a very hell of sound. And, above the infernal +fracas rose the heavy cheering of the doomed riders. + +Into the deep, narrow street wheeled the horsemen, choking road and +sidewalk with their galloping squadrons, a solid cataract of impetuous +horses, a flashing torrent of armored men--and then! Crash! the first +squadron dashed headlong against the barricade of wagons and went +down. + +Into them tore the squadron behind, unable to stop their maddened +horses, and into these thundered squadron after squadron, unconscious +of the dead wall ahead. + +In the terrible tumult and confusion, screaming horses and shrieking +men were piled in heaps, a human whirlpool formed at the barricade, +hurling bodily from its centre horses and riders. Men galloped +headlong into each other, riders struggled knee to knee, pushing, +shouting, colliding. + +Posted behind the upper and lower windows of the houses, the Prussians +shot into them, so close that the flames from the rifles set the +jackets of the cuirassiers on fire: a German captain opened the +shutters of a window and fired his pistol at a cuirassier, who replied +with a sabre thrust through the window, transfixing the German's +throat. + +Then a horrible butchery of men and horses began; the fusillade became +so violent and the scene so sickening that a Prussian lieutenant went +crazy in the house opposite, and flung himself from the window into +the mass of writhing horsemen. Tall cuirassiers, in impotent fury, +began slashing at the walls of the houses, breaking their heavy sabres +to splinters against the stones; their powerful horses, white with +foam, reared, fell back, crushing their riders beneath them. + +In front of the barricade a huge fellow reined in his horse and +turned, white-gloved hand raised, red epaulets tossing. + +[Illustration: "'HALT! HALT!' HE SHOUTED"] + +"Halt! Halt!" he shouted. "Stop the lancers!" And a trumpeter, +disengaging himself from the frantic chaos, set his long, silver +trumpet to his lips and blew the "Halt!" + +A bullet rolled the trumpeter under his horse's feet; a volley riddled +the other's horse, and the agonized animal reared and cleared the +bristling abatis with a single bound, his rider dropping dead among +the hay-wagons. + +Then into this awful struggle galloped the two squadrons of the lancers. +For a moment the street swam under their fluttering red-and-white +lance-pennons, then a volley swept them--another--another--and down +they went. + +Herds of riderless horses tore through the street; the road undulated +with crushed, quivering creatures crawling about. Against the doorway +of a house opposite a noble horse in agony leaned with shaking knees, +head raised, lips shrinking back over his teeth. + +Bewildered, stupefied, exhausted, the cuirassiers sat in their +saddles, staring up at the windows where the Prussians stood and +fired. Now and then one would start as from a nightmare, turn his +jaded horse, and go limping away down the street. The road was filled +with horsemen, wandering helplessly about under the rain of bullets. +One, a mere boy, rode up to a door, leaned from his horse and began to +knock for admittance; another dismounted and sat down on a doorstep, +head buried in his hands, regardless of the bullets which tore the +woodwork around him. + +The street was still crowded with entrapped cuirassiers, huddled in +groups or riding up and down the walls mechanically seeking shelter. A +few of these, dismounted, were wearily attempting to drag a heavy cart +away from the barricade; the Prussians shot them, one at a time, but +others came to help, and a few lancers aided them, and at length they +managed to drag a hay-wagon aside, giving a narrow passage to the open +country beyond. Instantly the Prussian infantry swarmed out of the +houses and into the street, shouting, "Prisoners!" pushing, striking, +and dragging the exhausted cuirassiers from their saddles. But contact +with the enemy, hand to hand, seemed to revive the fury of the armored +riders. The débris of the regiments closed up, long, straight sabres +glittered, trembling horses plunged forward, broke into a stiff +gallop, and passed through the infantry, through the rent in the +barricade, and staggered away across the fields, buried in the smoke +of a thousand rifles. + +So rode the "Cuirassiers of Morsbronn," the flower of an empire's +chivalry, the elect of France. So rode the gentlemen of the Sixth +Lancers to shiver their slender spears against stone walls--for the +honor of France. + +Death led them. Death rode with them knee to knee. Death alone halted +them. But their shining souls galloped on into that vast Valhalla +where their ancestors of Waterloo stood waiting, and the celestial +trumpets pealed a last "Dismount!" + + + + +VI + +THE GAME BEGINS + + +The room in the turret was now swimming in smoke and lime dust; I +could scarcely see the gray figure of the Countess through the +powder-mist which drifted in through shutters and loop-hole, dimming +the fading daylight. + +In the street a dense pall of pungent vapor hung over roof and +pavement, motionless in the calm August air; two houses were burning +slowly, smothered in smoke; through a ruddy fog I saw the dead lying +in mounds, the wounded moving feebly, the Prussian soldiery tossing +straw into the hay-carts that had served their deadly purpose. + +But oh, the dreadful murmur that filled the heavy air, the tremulous, +ceaseless plaint which comes from strong, muscular creatures, +tenacious of life, who are dying and who die hard. + +Helmeted figures swarmed through the smoke; wagon after wagon, loaded +deep with dead cavalrymen, was drawn away by heavy teams of horses now +arriving from the regimental transport train, which had come up and +halted just at the entrance to the village. + +And now wagon-loads of French wounded began to pass, jolting over +crushed helmets, rifles, cuirasses, and the carcasses of dead horses. + +A covey of Uhlans entered the shambles, picking their way across the +wreckage of the battle, a slim, wiry, fastidious company, dainty as +spurred gamecocks, with their helmet-cords swinging like wattles and +their schapskas tilted rakishly. + +Then the sad cortège of prisoners formed in the smoke, the wounded +leaning on their silent comrades, bandaged heads hanging, the others +erect, defiant, supporting the crippled or standing with arms folded +and helmeted heads held high. + +And at last they started, between two files of mounted Uhlans--Turcos, +line infantrymen, gendarmes, lancers, and, towering head and shoulders +above the others, the superb cuirassiers. + +A German general and his smartly uniformed staff came clattering up +the slippery street and halted to watch the prisoners defile. And, as +the first of the captive cuirassiers came abreast of the staff, the +general stiffened in his saddle and raised his hand to his helmet, +saying to his officers, loud enough for me to hear: + +"Salute the brave, gentlemen!" + +And the silent, calm-eyed cuirassiers passed on, heads erect, uniforms +in shreds, their battered armor foul with smoke and mud, spurs broken, +scabbards empty. + +Troops of captured horses, conducted by Uhlans, followed the +prisoners, then wagons piled high with rifles, sabres, and saddles, +then a company of Uhlans cantering away with the shot-torn guidons of +the cuirassiers. + +Last of all came the wounded in their straw-wadded wagons, escorted by +infantry; I heard them coming before I saw them, and, sickened, I +closed my ears with my hands; yet even then the deep, monotonous +groaning seemed to fill the room and vibrate through the falling +shadows long after the last cart had creaked out of sight and hearing +into the gathering haze of evening. + +The deadened booming of cannon still came steadily from the west, and +it needed no messenger to tell me that the First Corps had been hurled +back into Alsace, and that MacMahon's army was in full retreat; that +now the Rhine was open and the passage of the Vosges was clear, and +Strasbourg must stand siege and Belfort and Toul must man their +battlements for a struggle that meant victory, or an Alsace doomed and +a Lorraine lost to France forever. + +The room had grown very dark, the loop-hole admitting but little of +the smoky evening sunset. Some soldiers in the hallway outside finally +lighted torches; red reflections danced over the torn ceiling and +plaster-covered floor, illuminating a corner where the Countess was +sitting by the bedside, her head lying on the covers. How long she had +been there I did not know, but when I spoke she raised her head and +answered quietly. + +In the torch-light her face was ghastly, her eyes red and dim as she +came over to me and looked out into the darkness. + +The woman was shaken terribly, shaken to the very soul. She had not +seen all that I had seen; she had flinched before the spectacle of a +butchery too awful to look upon, but she had seen enough, and she had +heard enough to support or to confound theories formed through a young +girl's brief, passionless, eventless life. + +Under the window soldiers began shooting the crippled horses; the +heavy flash and bang of rifles set her trembling again. + +Until the firing ceased she stood as though stupefied, scarcely +breathing, her splendid hair glistening like molten copper in the red +torches' glare. + +A soldier came into the room and dragged the bedclothes from the bed, +trailing them across the floor behind him as he departed. An officer +holding a lantern peered through the door, his eye-glasses shining, +his boots in his hand. + +He evidently had intended to get into the bed, but when his gaze fell +upon us he withdrew in his stockinged feet. + +On the stairs soldiers were eating hunches of stale bread and knocking +the necks from wine bottles with their bayonets. One lumpish fellow +came to the door and offered me part of a sausage which he was +devouring, a kindly act that touched me, and I wondered whether the +other prisoners might find among their Uhlan guards the same humanity +that moved this half-famished yokel to offer me the food he was +gnawing. + +Soldiers began to come and go in the room; some carried off chairs for +officers below some took the pillows from the bed, one bore away a +desk on his broad shoulders. + +The Countess never moved or spoke. + +The evening had grown chilly; I was cold to my knees. + +A soldier offered to build me a fire in the great stone fireplace +behind me, and when I assented he calmly smashed a chair to +kindling-wood, wrenched off the heavy posts of the bed, and started a +fire which lit up the wrecked room with its crimson glare. + +The Countess rose and looked around. The soldier pushed my long chair +to the blaze, tore down the canopy over the bed and flung it over me, +stolidly ignoring my protests. Then he clumped out with his muddy +boots and shut the door behind him. + +For a long while I lay there, full in the heat of the fire, half +dozing, then sleeping, then suddenly alert, only to look about me to +see the Countess with eyes closed, motionless in her arm-chair, only +to hear the muffled thunder of the guns in the dark. + +Once again, having slept, I roused, listening. The crackle of the +flames was all I heard; the cannon were silent. A few moments later a +clock in the hallway struck nine times. At the same instant a deadened +cannon-shot echoed the clamor of the clock. It was the last shot of +the battle. And when the dull reverberations had died away Alsace was +a lost province, MacMahon's army was in full retreat, leaving on the +three battle-fields of Wörth, Reichshoffen, and Fröschweiler sixteen +thousand dead, wounded, and missing soldiers of France. + +All night long I heard cavalry traversing Morsbronn in an unbroken +column, the steady trample of their horses never ceasing for an +instant. At moments, from the outskirts of the village, the sinister +sound of cheering came from the vanguard of the German Sixth Corps, +just arriving to learn of the awful disaster to France. Too late to +take any part in the battle, these tired soldiers stood cheering by +regiments as the cavalry rode past in pursuit of the shattered army, +and their cheering swelled to a terrific roar toward morning, when the +Prince Royal of Prussia appeared with his staff, and the soldiers in +Morsbronn rushed out into the street bellowing, "Hoch soll er leben! +Er soll leben--Hoch!" + +About seven o'clock that morning a gaunt, leather-faced Prussian +officer, immaculate in his sombre uniform, entered the room without +knocking. The young Countess turned in the depths of her chair; he +bowed to her slightly, unfolded a printed sheet of paper which bore +the arms of Prussia, hesitated, then said, looking directly at me: + +"Morsbronn is now German territory and will continue to be governed +by military law, proclaimed under the state of siege, until the +country is properly pacified. + +"Honest inhabitants will not be disturbed. Citizens are invited to +return to their homes and peacefully continue their legitimate +avocations, subject to and under the guarantee of the Prussian +military government. + +"Monsieur, I have the honor to hand you a copy of regulations. I am +the provost marshal; all complaints should be brought to me." + +I took the printed sheet and looked at the Prussian coat of arms. + +"A list of the inhabitants of Morsbronn will be made to-day. You will +have the goodness to declare yourself--and you also, madame. There +being other buildings better fitted, no soldiers will be quartered in +this house." + +The officer evidently mistook me for the owner of the house and not a +prisoner. A blanket hid my hussar trousers and boots; he could only +see my ragged shirt. + +"And now, madame," he continued, "as monsieur appears to need the +services of a physician, I shall send him a French doctor, brought in +this morning from the Château de la Trappe. I wish him to get well; I +wish the inhabitants of my district to return to their homes and +resume the interrupted régimes which have made this province of Alsace +so valuable to France. I wish Morsbronn to prosper; I wish it well. +This is the German policy. + +"But, monsieur, let me speak plainly. I tolerate no treachery. The +law is iron and will be applied with rigor. An inhabitant of my +district who deceives me, or who commits an offence against the troops +under my command, or who in any manner holds, or attempts to hold, +communication with the enemy, will be shot without court-martial." + +He turned his grim, inflexible face to the Countess and bowed, then he +bowed to me, swung squarely on his heel, and walked to the door. + +"Admit the French doctor," he said to the soldier on guard, and +marched out, his curved sabre banging behind his spurred heels. + +"It must be Dr. Delmont!" I said, looking at the Countess as there +came a low knock at the door. + +"I am very thankful!" she said, her voice almost breaking. She rose +unsteadily from her chair; somebody entered the room behind me and I +turned, calling out, "Welcome, doctor!" + +"Thank you," replied the calm voice of John Buckhurst at my elbow. + +The Countess shrank aside as Buckhurst coolly passed before her, +turned his slim back to the embers of the fire, and fixed his eyes on +me--those pale, slow eyes, passionless as death. + +Here was a type of criminal I had never until recently known. Small of +hand and foot--too small even for such a slender man--clean shaven, +colorless in hair, skin, lips, he challenged instant attention by the +very monotony of his bloodless symmetry. There was nothing of positive +evil in his face, nothing of impulse, good or bad, nothing even +superficially human. His spotless linen, his neat sack-coat and +trousers of gray seemed part of him--like a loose outer skin. There +was in his ensemble nothing to disturb the negative harmony, save +perhaps an abnormal flatness of the instep and hands. + +"My friend," he observed, in English, "do you think you will know me +again when you have finished your scrutiny?" + +The Countess, face averted, passed behind my chair. + +"Wait," said Buckhurst; and turning directly to me, he added: "You +were mistaken for a hussar at La Trappe; you were mistaken here for a +hussar as long as the squad holding this house remained in Morsbronn. +A few moments ago the provost mistook you for a civilian." He looked +across at the Countess, who already stood with her hand on the +door-knob. + +"If you disturb me," he said, "I have only to tell the provost the +truth. Members of the Imperial Police caught without proper uniform +inside German lines are shot, séance tenante." + +The Countess stood perfectly still a moment, then came straight to +me. + +"Is that true?" she asked. + +"Yes," I said. + +She still leaned forward, looking down into my face. Then she turned +to Buckhurst. + +"Do you want money?" she asked. + +"I want a chair--and your attention for the present," he replied, and +seated himself. + +The printed copy of the rules handed me by the provost marshal lay on +the floor. Buckhurst picked up the sheet, glanced at the Prussian +eagle, and thoughtfully began rolling the paper into a grotesque +shape. + +"Sit down, madame," he said, without raising his eyes from the bit of +paper which he had now fashioned into a cocked hat. + +After a moment's silent hesitation the Countess drew a small gilt +chair beside my sofa-chair and sat down, and again that brave, +unconscious gesture of protection left her steady hand lying lightly +on my arm. + +Buckhurst noted the gesture. And all at once I divined that whatever +plan he had come to execute had been suddenly changed. He looked down +at the paper in his hands, gave it a thoughtful twist, and, drawing +the ends out, produced a miniature paper boat. + +"We are all in one like that," he observed, holding it up without +apparent interest. He glanced at the young Countess; her face was +expressionless. + +"Madame," said Buckhurst, in his peculiarly soft and persuasive +voice, "I am not here to betray this gentleman; I am not here even to +justify myself. I came here to make reparation, to ask your +forgiveness, madame, for the wrong I have done you, and to deliver +myself, if necessary, into the hands of the proper French authorities +in expiation of my misguided zeal." + +The Countess was looking at him now; he fumbled with the paper boat, +gave it an unconscious twist, and produced a tiny paper box. + +"The cause," he said, gently, "to which I have devoted my life must +not suffer through the mistake of a fanatic; for in the cause of +universal brotherhood I am, perhaps, a fanatic, and to aid that cause +I have gravely compromised myself. I came here to expiate that folly +and to throw myself upon your mercy, madame." + +"I do not exactly understand," said I, "how you can expiate a crime +here." + +"I can at least make restitution," he said, turning the paper box +over and over between his flat fingers. + +"Have you brought me the diamonds which belong to the state?" I +inquired, amused. + +"Yes," he said, and to my astonishment he drew a small leather pouch +from his pocket and laid it on my blanket-covered knees. "How many +diamonds were there?" he asked. + +"One hundred and three," I replied, incredulously, and opened the +leather pouch. Inside was a bag of chamois-skin. This I stretched wide +and emptied. + +Scores of little balls of tissue-paper rolled out on the blanket over +my knees; I opened one; it contained a diamond; I opened another, +another, and another; diamonds lay blazing on my blanket, a whole +handful, glittering in undimmed splendor. + +"Count them," murmured Buckhurst, fashioning the paper box into a +fly-trap with a lid. + +With a quick movement I swept them into my hands, then one by one +dropped the stones while I counted aloud one hundred and two diamonds. +The one hundred and third jewel was, of course, safely in Paris. + +When I had a second time finished the enumeration I leaned back in my +chair, utterly at a loss to account for this man or for what he had +done. As far as I could see there was no logic in it, nothing +demonstrated, nothing proven. To me--and I am not either suspicious or +obstinate by nature--Buckhurst was still an unrepentant thief and a +dangerous one. + +I could see in him absolutely nothing of the fanatic, of the generous, +feather-headed devotee, nothing of the hasty disciple or the impulsive +martyr. In my eyes he continued to be the passionless master-criminal, +the cold, slow-eyed source of hidden evil, the designer of an +intricate and viewless intrigue against the state. + +His head remained bent over the paper toy in his hands. Was his hair +gray with age or excesses, or was it only colorless like the rest of +his exterior? + +"Restitution is not expiation," he said, sadly, without looking up. +"I loved the cause; I love it still; I practised deception, and I am +here to ask this gentle lady to forgive me for an unworthy yet +unselfish use of her money and her hospitality. If she can pardon me I +welcome whatever punishment may be meted out." + +The Countess dropped her elbow on the arm of my chair and rested her +face in her hand. + +"Swept away by my passion for the cause of universal brotherhood," +said Buckhurst, in his low, caressing voice, "I ventured to spend +this generous lady's money to carry the propaganda into the more +violent centres of socialism--into the clubs in Montmartre and +Belleville. There I urged non-resistance; I pleaded moderation and +patience. What I said helped a little, I think--" + +He hesitated, twisting his fly-box into a paper creature with four +legs. + +"I was eager; people listened. I thought that if I had a little more +money I might carry on this work.... I could not come to you, +madame--" + +"Why not?" said the Countess, looking at him quickly. "I have never +refused you money!" + +"No," he said, "you never refused me. But I knew that La Trappe was +mortgaged, that even this house in Morsbronn was loaded with debt. I +knew, madame, that in all the world you had left but one small roof to +cover you--the house in Morbihan, on Point Paradise. I knew that if I +asked for money you would sell Paradise,... and I could not ask so +much,... I could not bring myself to ask that sacrifice." + +"And so you stole the crucifix of Louis XI.," I suggested, +pleasantly. + +He did not look at me, but the Countess did. + +"Bon," I thought, watching Buckhurst's deft fingers; "he means to be +taken back into grace. I wonder exactly why? And ... is it worth this +fortune in diamonds to him to be pardoned by a penniless girl whom he +and his gang have already stripped?" + +"Could you forgive me, madame?" murmured Buckhurst. + +"Would you explain that stick of dynamite first?" I interposed. + +The Countess turned and looked directly at Buckhurst. He sat with +humble head bowed, nimbly constructing a paper bird. + +"That was not dynamite; it was concentrated phosphorus," he said, +without resentment. "Naturally it burned when you lighted it, but if +you had not burned it I could easily have shown Madame la Comtesse +what it really was." + +"I also," said I, "if I had thrown it at your feet, Mr. Buckhurst." + +"Do you not believe me?" he asked, meekly, looking up at the +Countess. + +"Mr. Buckhurst," said the young Countess, turning to me, "has aided +me for a long time in experiments. We hoped to find some cheap method +of restoring nitrogen and phosphorus to the worn-out soil which our +poor peasants till. Why should you doubt that he speaks the truth? At +least he is guiltless of any connection with the party which advocated +violence." + +I looked at Buckhurst. He was engaged in constructing a multi-pointed +paper star. What else was he busy with? Perhaps I might learn if I +ceased to manifest distrust. + +"Does concentrated phosphorus burn like dynamite?" I asked, as if +with newly aroused interest. + +"Did you not know it?" he said, warily. + +But was he deceived by my manner? Was that the way for me to learn +anything? + +There was perhaps another way. Clearly this extraordinary man depended +upon his persuasive eloquence for his living, for the very shoes on +his little, flat feet, as do all such chevaliers of industry. If he +would only begin to argue, if I could only induce him to try his +eloquence on me, and if I could convince him that I myself was but an +ignorant, self-centred, bullet-headed gendarme, doing my duty only +because of perspective advancement, ready perhaps to take +bribes--perhaps even weakly, covetously, credulous--well, perhaps I +might possibly learn why he desired to cling to this poor young lady, +whose life had evidently gone dreadfully to smash, to land her among +such a coterie of thieves and lunatics. + +"Mr. Buckhurst," I said, pompously, "in bringing these diamonds to +me you have certainly done all in your power to repair an injury which +concerned all France. + +"As I am situated, of course I cannot now ask you to accompany me to +Paris, where doubtless the proper authorities would gladly admit +extenuating circumstances, and credit you with a sincere repentance. +But I put you on your honor to surrender at the first opportunity." + +It was as stupidly trite a speech as I could think of. + +Buckhurst glanced up at me. Was he taking my measure anew, judging me +from my bray? + +"I could easily aid you to leave Morsbronn," he said, stealthily. + +"O-ho," thought I, "so you're a German agent, too, as I suspected." +But I said, aloud, simulating astonishment: "Do you mean to say, Mr. +Buckhurst, that you would deliberately risk death to aid a police +officer to bring you before a military tribunal in Paris?" + +"I do not desire to pose as a hero or a martyr," he said, quietly, +"but I regret what I have done, and I will do what an honest man can +do to make the fullest reparation--even if it means my death." + +I gazed at him in admiration--real admiration--because the gross +bathos he had just uttered betrayed a weakness--vanity. Now I began to +understand him; vanity must also lead him to undervalue men. True, +with the faintest approach to eloquence he could no doubt hold the +"Clubs" of Belleville spellbound; with self-effacing adroitness to +cover stealthy persuasion, he had probably found little difficulty in +dominating this inexperienced girl, who, touched to the soul with +pity for human woe, had flung herself and her fortune to the howling +proletariat. + +But that he should so serenely undervalue me at my first bray was more +than I hoped for. So I brayed again, the good, old, sentimental bray, +for which all Gallic lungs are so marvellously fashioned: + +"Monsieur, such sentiments honor you. I am only a rough soldier of +the Imperial Police, but I am profoundly moved to find among the +leaders of the proletariat such delicate and chivalrous emotions--" I +hesitated. Was I buttering the sop too thickly? + +Buckhurst, eyes bent on the floor, began picking to pieces his paper +toy. Presently he looked up, not at me, but at the Countess, who sat +with hands clasped earnestly watching him. + +"If--if the state pardons me, can ... you?" he murmured. + +She looked at him with intense earnestness. I saw he was sailing on +the wrong tack. + +"I have nothing to pardon," she said, gravely. "But I must tell +you the truth, Mr. Buckhurst, I cannot forget what you have done. It +was something--the one thing that I cannot understand--that I can +never understand--something so absolutely alien to me that +it--somehow--leaves me stunned. Don't ask me to forget it.... I +cannot. I do not mean to be harsh and cruel, or to condemn you. +Even if you had taken the jewels from me, and had asked my +forgiveness, I would have given it freely. But I could not be as I +was, a comrade to you." + +There was a silence. The Countess, looking perfectly miserable, still +gazed at Buckhurst. He dropped his gray, symmetrical head, yet I felt +that he was listening to every minute sound in the room. + +"You must not care what I say," she said. "I am only an unhappy +woman, unused to the liberty I have given myself, not yet habituated +to the charity of those blameless hearts which forgive everything! I +am a novice, groping my way into a new and vast world, a limitless, +generous, forgiving commune, where love alone dominates.... And if I +had lived among my brothers long enough to be purged of those +traditions which I have drawn from generations, I might now be noble +enough and wise enough to say I do forgive and forget that you--" + +"That you were once a thief," I ended, with the genial officiousness +of the hopelessly fat-minded. + +In the stillness I heard Buckhurst draw in his breath--once. Some day +he would try to kill me for that; in the mean time my crass stupidity +was no longer a question in his mind. I had hurt the Countess, too, +with what she must have believed a fool's needless brutality. But it +had to be so if I played at Jaques Bonhomme. + +So I put the finishing whine to it--"Our Lord died between two +thieves"--and relapsed into virtuous contemplation of my finger-tips. + +"Madame," said Buckhurst, in a low voice, "your contempt of me is +part of my penalty. I must endure it. I shall not complain. But I +shall try to live a life that will at least show you my deep +sincerity." + +"I do not doubt it," said the Countess, earnestly. "Don't think that +I mean to turn away from you or to push you away. There is nothing of +the Pharisee in me. I would gladly trust you with what I have. I will +consult you and advise with you, Mr. Buckhurst--" + +"And ... despise me." + +The unhappy Countess looked at me. It goes hard with a woman when her +guide and mentor falls. + +"If you return to Paradise, in Morbihan,... as we had planned, may I +go," he asked, humbly, "only as an obscure worker in the cause? I +beg, madame, that you will not cast me off." + +So he wanted to go to Morbihan--to the village of Paradise? Why? + +The Countess said: "I welcome all who care for the cause. You will +never hear an unkind word from me if you desire to resume the work in +Paradise. Dr. Delmont will be there; Monsieur Tavernier also, I hope; +and they are older and wiser than I, and they have reached that lofty +serenity which is far above my troubled mind. Ask them what you have +asked of me; they are equipped to answer you." + +It was time for another discord from me, so I said: "Madame, you have +seen a thousand men lay down their lives for France. Has it not shaken +your allegiance to that ghost of patriotism which you call the +'Internationale'?" + +Here was food for thought, or rather fodder for asses--the Police +Oracle turned missionary under the nose of the most cunning criminal +in France and the vainest. Of course Buckhurst's contempt for me at +once passed all bounds, and, secure in that contempt, he felt it +scarcely worth while to use his favorite weapon--persuasion. Still, if +the occasion should require it, he was quite ready, I knew, to loose +his eloquence on the Countess, and on me too. + +The Countess turned her troubled eyes to me. + +"What I have seen, what I have thought since yesterday has distressed +me dreadfully," she said. "I have tried to include all the world in a +broader pity, a broader, higher, and less selfish love than the +jealous, single-minded love for one country--" + +"The mother-land," I said, and Buckhurst looked up, adding, "The +world is the true mother-land." + +Whereupon I appeared profoundly impressed at such a novel and +epigrammatic view. + +"There is much to be argued on both sides," said the young Countess, +"but I am utterly unfitted to struggle with this new code of ethics. +If it had been different--if I had been born among the poor, in +misery!--But you see I come a pilgrim among the proletariat, clothed +in conservatism, cloaked with tradition, and if at heart I burn with +sorrow for the miserable, and if I gladly give what I have to help, I +cannot with a single gesture throw off those inherited garments, +though they tortured my body like the garment of Nessus." + +I did not smile or respect her less for the stilted phrases, the +pathetic poverty of metaphor. Profoundly troubled, struggling with a +reserve the borders of which she strove so bravely to cross, her +distress touched me the more because I knew it aroused the uneasy +contempt of Buckhurst. Yet I could not spare her. + +"You saw the cuirassiers die in the street below," I repeated, with +the obstinacy of a limited intellect. + +"Yes--and my heart went out to them," she replied, with an emphasis +that pleased me and startled Buckhurst. + +Buckhurst began to speak, but I cut him short. + +"Then, madame, if your heart went out to the soldiers of France, it +went out to France, too!" + +"Yes--to France," she repeated, and I saw her lip begin to quiver. + +"Wherein does love for France conflict with our creed, madame?" asked +Buckhurst, gently. "It is only hate that we abjure." + +She turned her gray eyes on him. "I will tell you: in that dreadful +moment when the cavalry of France cheered Death in his own awful +presence, I loved them and their country--_my_ country!--as I had +never loved in all my life.... And I hated, too! I hated the men who +butchered them--more!--I hated the country where the men came from; I +hated race and country and the blows they dealt, and the evil they +wrought on France--_my France_! That is the truth; and I realize it!" + +There was a silence; Buckhurst slowly unrolled the wrinkled paper he +had been fingering. + +"And now?" he asked, simply. + +"Now?" she repeated. "I don't know--truly, I do not know." She +turned to me sorrowfully. "I had long since thought that my heart was +clean of hate, and now I don't know." And, to Buckhurst, again: "Our +creed teaches us that war is vile--a savage betrayal of humanity by a +few dominant minds; a dishonorable ingratitude to God and country. But +from that window I saw men die for honor of France with God's name on +their lips. I saw one superb cuirassier, trapped down there in the +street, sit still on his horse, while they shot at him from every +window, and I heard him call up to a Prussian officer who had just +fired at him: 'My friend, you waste powder; the heart of France is +cuirassed by a million more like me!'" A rich flush touched her face; +her gray eyes grew brighter. + +"Is there a Frenchwoman alive whose blood would not stir at such a +scene?" she said. "They shot him through his armor, his breastplate +was riddled, he clung to his horse, always looking up at the riflemen, +and I heard the bullets drumming on his helmet and his cuirass like +hailstones on a tin roof, and I could not look away. And all the while +he was saying, quietly: 'It is quite useless, friends; France lives! +You waste your powder!' and I could not look away or close my eyes--" + +She bent her head, shivering, and her interlocked fingers whitened. + +"I only know this," she said: "I will give all I have--I will give +my poor self to help the advent of that world-wide brotherhood which +must efface national frontiers and end all war in this sad world. But +if you ask me, in the presence of war, to look on with impartiality, +to watch my own country battling for breath, to stop my ears when a +wounded mother-land is calling, to answer the supreme cry of France +with a passionless cry, 'Repent!' I cannot do it--I will not! I was +not born to!" + +Deeply moved, she had risen, confronting Buckhurst, whose stone-cold +eyes were fixed on her. + +"You say I hold you unworthy," she said. "Others may hold me, too, +unworthy because I have not reached that impartial equipoise whence, +impassive, I can balance my native land against its sins and watch +blind justice deal with it all unconcerned. + +"In theory I have done it--oh, it is simple to teach one's soul in +theory! But when my eyes saw my own land blacken and shrivel like a +green leaf in the fire, and when with my own eyes I saw the best, the +noblest, the crown of my country's chivalry fall rolling in the mud of +Morsbronn under the feet of Prussia, every drop of blood in my body +was French--hot and red and French! And it is now; and it will always +be--as it has always been, though I did not understand." + +After a silence Buckhurst said: "All that may be, madame, yet not +impair your creed." + +"What!" she said, "does not hatred of the stranger impair my +creed?" + +"It will die out and give place to reason." + +"When? When I attain the lofty, dispassionate level I have never +attained? That will not be while this war endures." + +"Who knows?" said Buckhurst, gently. + +"I know!" replied the Countess, the pale flames in her cheeks +deepening again. + +"And yet," observed Buckhurst, patiently, "you are going to Paradise +to work for the Internationale." + +"I shall try to do my work and love France," she said, steadily. "I +cannot believe that one renders the other impossible." + +"Yet," said I, "if you teach the nation non-resistance, what would +become of the armies of France?" + +"I shall not teach non-resistance until we are at peace," she +said--"until there is not a German soldier left in France. After that +I shall teach acquiescence and personal liberty." + +I looked at her very seriously; logic had no dwelling-place within her +tender and unhappy heart. + +And what a hunting-ground was that heart for men like Buckhurst! I +could begin to read that mouse-colored gentleman now, to follow, after +a fashion, the intricate policy which his insolent mind was +shaping--shaping in stealthy contempt for me and for this young girl. +Thus far I could divine the thoughts of Mr. Buckhurst, but there were +other matters to account for. Why did he choose to spare my life when +a word would have sent me before the peloton of execution? Why had he +brought to me the fortune in diamonds which he had stolen? Why did he +eat humble-pie before a young girl from whom he and his companions had +wrung the last penny? Why did he desire to go to Morbihan and be +received among the elect in the Breton village of Paradise? + +I said, abruptly: "So you are not going to denounce me to the +Prussian provost?" + +He lifted his well-shaped head and gazed at the Countess with an +admirable pathos which seemed a mute appeal for protection from +brutality. + +"That question is a needless one," said the Countess, quietly. "It +was a cruel one, also, Monsieur Scarlett." + +"I did not mean it as an offensive question," said I. "I was merely +reciting a fact, most creditable to Mr. Buckhurst. Mon Dieu, madame, I +am an officer of Imperial Police, and I have lived to hear blunt +questions and blunter answers. And if it be true that Monsieur +Buckhurst desires to atone for--for what has happened, then it is +perfectly proper for me, even as a prisoner myself, to speak +plainly." + +I meant this time to thoroughly convince Buckhurst of my ability to +gabble platitude. My desire that he should view me as a typical +gendarme was intense. + +So I coughed solemnly behind my hand, knit my eyebrows, and laid one +finger alongside of my nose. + +"Is it not my duty, as a guardian of national interests, to point out +to Mr. Buckhurst his honest errors? Certainly it is, madame, and this +is the proper time." + +Turning pompously to Buckhurst, I fancied I could almost detect a +sneer on that inexpressive mask he wore--at least I hoped I could, and +I said, heavily: + +"Monsieur, for a number of years there has passed under our eyes here +in France certain strange phenomena. Thousands of Frenchmen have, so +to speak, separated themselves from the rest of the nation. + +"All the sentiments that the nation honors itself by professing these +other Frenchmen rebuke--the love of country, public spirit, accord +between citizens, social repose, and respect for communal law and +order--these other Frenchmen regard as the hallucinations of a nation +of dupes. + +"Separated by such unfortunate ideas from the nation within whose +boundaries they live, they continue to abuse, even to threaten, the +society and the country which gives them shelter. + +"France is only a name to them; they were born there, they live +there, they derive their nourishment from her without gratitude. +But France is nothing to them; _their mother-land is the +Internationale_!" + +I was certain now that the shadow of a sneer had settled in the +corners of Buckhurst's thin lips. + +"I do not speak of anarchists or of terrorists," I continued, nodding +as though profoundly impressed by my own sagacity. "I speak of +socialists--that dangerous society to which the cry of Karl Marx was +addressed with the warning, 'Socialists! Unite!' + +"The government has reason to fear socialism, not anarchy, for it +will never happen in France, where the passion for individual property +is so general, that a doctrine of brutal destruction could have the +slightest chance of success. + +"But wait, here is the point, Monsieur Buckhurst. Formerly the name +of 'terrorist' was a shock to the entire civilized world; it evoked +the spectres of a year that the world can never forget. And so our +modern reformers, modestly desiring to evade the inconveniences of +such memories among the people, call themselves the 'Internationale.' +Listen to them; they are adroit, they blame and rebuke violence, they +condemn anarchy, they would not lay their hands on public or +individual property--no, indeed! + +"Ah, madame, but you should hear them in their own clubs, where the +ladies and gentlemen of the gutters, the barriers, and the abattoirs +discuss 'individual property,' 'the tyranny of capital,' and similar +subjects which no doubt they are peculiarly fitted to discuss. + +"Believe me, madame, the little coterie which you represent is +already the dupe and victim of this terrible Internationale. Their +leaders work their will through you; a vast conspiracy against all +social peace is spread through your honest works of mercy. The time +is coming when the whole world will rise to combat this +Internationale; and when the mask is dragged from its benignant +visage, there, grinning behind, will appear the same old 'Spectre +Rouge,' torch in one hand, gun in the other, squatting behind a +barricade of paving-blocks." + +I wagged my head dolefully. + +"I could not have rested had I not warned Mr. Buckhurst of this," I +said, sentimentally. + +Which was fairly well done, considering that I was figuratively +lamenting over the innocence of the most accomplished scoundrel that +ever sat in the supreme council of the Internationale. + +Buckhurst looked thoughtfully at the floor. + +"If I thought," he murmured--"if I believed for one instant--" + +"Believe me, my dear sir," I said, "that you are playing into the +hands of the wickedest villains on earth!" + +"Your earnestness almost converts me," he said, lifting his stealthy +eyes. + +The Countess appeared weary and perplexed. + +"At all events," she said, "we must do nothing to embarrass France +now; we must do nothing until this frightful war is ended." + +After a silence Buckhurst said, "But you will go to Paradise, +madame?" + +"Yes," replied the Countess, listlessly. + +Now, what in Heaven's name attracted that rogue to Paradise? + + + + +VII + +A STRUGGLE FORESHADOWED + + +I took my breakfast by the window, watching the German soldiery +cleaning up Morsbronn. For that wonderful Teutonic administrative +mania was already manifesting itself while ruined houses still smoked; +method replaced chaos, order marched on the heels of the Prussian +rear-guard, which enveloped Morsbronn in a whirlwind of Uhlans, and +left it a silent, blackened landmark in the August sunshine. + +Soldiers in canvas fatigue-dress, wearing soft, round, visorless caps, +were removing the débris of the fatal barricade; soldiers with shovel +and hoe filled in the trenches and raked the long, winding street +clean of all litter; soldiers with trowel and mortar were perched on +shot-torn houses, mending chimneys and slated roofs so that their +officers might enjoy immunity from rain and wind and defective flues. + +In the court-yards and stables I could see cavalrymen in +stable-jackets, whitewashing walls and out-buildings and ill-smelling +stalls, while others dug shovelfuls of slaked lime from wheelbarrows +and spread it through stable-yards and dirty alleys. Everywhere quiet, +method, order, prompt precision reigned; I even noticed a big, +red-fisted artilleryman tying up tall, blue larkspurs, dahlias, and +phlox in a trampled garden, and he touched the ragged masses of bloom +with a tenderness peculiar to a flower-loving and sentimental people, +whose ultimate ambition is a quart of beer, a radish, and a green leaf +overhead. + +At the corners of the walls and blind alleys, placards in French and +German were posted, embodying regulations governing the village under +Prussian military rule. The few inhabitants of Morsbronn who had +remained in cellars during the bombardment shuffled up to read these +notices, or to loiter stupidly, gaping at the Prussian eagles +surmounting the posters. + +A soldier came in and started the fire in my fireplace. When he went +out I drew my code-book from my breeches-pocket and tossed it into the +fire. After it followed my commission, my memoranda, and every scrap +of writing. The diamonds I placed in the bosom of my flannel shirt. + +Toward one o'clock I heard the shrill piping of a goat-herd, and I saw +him, a pallid boy, clumping along in his wooden shoes behind his two +nanny-goats, while the German soldiers, peasants themselves, looked +after him with curious sympathy. + +A little later a small herd of cattle passed, driven to pasture by a +stolid Alsatian, who replied to the soldiers' questions in German +patois and shrugged his heavy shoulders like a Frenchman. + +A cock crowed occasionally from some near dunghill; once I saw a cat +serenely following the course of a stucco wall, calm, perfectly +self-composed, ignoring the blandishments of the German soldiers, who +called, "Komm mitz! mitz!" and held out bits of sausage and black +bread. + +A German ambulance surgeon arrived to see me in the afternoon. The +Countess was busy somewhere with Buckhurst, who had come with news for +her, and the German surgeon's sharp double rap at the door did not +bring her, so I called out, "Entrez donc!" and he stalked in, +removing his fatigue-cap, which action distinguished him from his +brother officers. + +He was a tall, well-built man, perfectly uniformed in his +double-breasted frocked tunic, blue-eyed, blond-bearded, and +immaculate of hand and face, a fine type of man and a credit to any +army. + +After a brief examination he sat down and resumed a very bad cigar, +which had been smouldering between his carefully kept fingers. + +"Do you know," he said, admiringly, "that I have never before seen +just such a wound. The spinal column is not even grazed, and if, as I +understand from you, you suffered temporarily from complete paralysis +of the body below your waist, the case is not only interesting but +even remarkable." + +"Is the superficial lesion at all serious?" I asked. + +"Not at all. As far as I can see the blow from the bullet temporarily +paralyzed the spinal cord. There is no fracture, no depression. I do +not see why you should not walk if you desire to." + +"When? Now?" + +"Try it," he said, briefly. + +I tried. Apart from a certain muscular weakness and a great fatigue, I +found it quite possible to stand, even to move a few steps. Then I sat +down again, and was glad to do so. + +The doctor was looking at my legs rather grimly, and it suddenly +flashed on me that I had dropped my blanket and he had noticed my +hussar's trousers. + +"So," he said, "you are a military prisoner? I understood from the +provost marshal that you were a civilian." + +As he spoke Buckhurst appeared at the door, and then sauntered in, +quietly greeting the surgeon, who looked around at the sound of his +footsteps on the stone floor. There was no longer a vestige of doubt +in my mind that Buckhurst was a German agent, or at least that the +Germans _believed_ him to be in their pay. And doubtless he was in +their pay, but to whom he was faithful nobody could know with any +certainty. + +"How is our patient, doctor?" he asked. + +"Convalescent," replied the doctor, shortly, as though not exactly +relishing the easy familiarity of this pale-eyed gentleman in gray. + +"Can he travel to-day?" inquired Buckhurst, without apparent +interest. + +"Before he travels," said the officer, "it might be well to find out +why he wears part of a hussar uniform." + +"I've explained that to the provost," observed Buckhurst, examining +his well-kept finger-nails. "And I have a pass for him also--if he is +in a fit condition to travel." + +The officer gave him a glance full of frank dislike, adjusted his +sabre, pulled on his white gloves, and, bowing very slightly to me, +marched straight out of the room and down the stairs without taking +any notice of Buckhurst. The latter looked after the officer, then his +indifferent eyes returned to me. Presently he sat down and produced a +small slip of paper, which he very carefully twisted into a cocked +hat. + +"I suppose you doubt my loyalty to France," he said, intent on his +bit of paper. + +Then, logically continuing my rôle of the morning, I began to upbraid +him for a traitor and swear that I would not owe my salvation to him, +and all the while he was calmly transforming his paper from one toy +into another between deft, flat fingers. + +"You are unjust and a trifle stupid," he said. "I am paid by Prussia +for information which I never give. But I have the entre of their +lines. I do it for the sake of the Internationale. The Internationale +has a few people in its service ... _And it pays them well_." + +He looked squarely at me as he said this. I almost trembled with +delight: the man undervalued me, he had taken me at my own figure, and +now, holding me in absolute contempt, he was going to begin on me. + +"Scarlett," he said, "what does the government pay you?" + +I began to protest in a torrent of patriotism and sentimentality. He +watched me impassively while I called Heaven to witness and proclaimed +my loyalty to France, ending through sheer breathlessness in a +maundering, tearful apotheosis where mixed metaphors jostled each +other--the government, the Emperor, and the French flag, consecrated +in blood--and finally, calling his attention to the fact that twenty +centuries had once looked down on this same banner, I collapsed in my +chair and gave him his chance. + +He took it. With subtle flattery he recognized in me a powerful arm of +a corrupt Empire, which Empire he likened to the old man who rode +Sindbad the Sailor. He admitted my noble loyalty to France, pointing +out, however, that devotion to the Empire was not devotion to France, +but the contrary. Skilfully he pictured the unprepared armies of the +Empire, huddled along the frontier, seized and rent to fragments, one +by one; adroitly he painted the inevitable ending, the armies that +remained cut off and beaten in detail. + +And as I listened I freely admitted to myself that I had undervalued +him; that he was no crude Belleville orator, no sentimental +bathos-peddling reformer, no sansculotte with brains ablaze, squalling +for indiscriminate slaughter and pillage; he was a cool student in +crime, taking no chances that he was not forced to take, a calm, +adroit, methodical observer, who had established a theory and was +carefully engaged in proving it. + +"Scarlett," he said, in English, "let us come to the point. I am a +mercenary American; you are an American mercenary, paid by the French +government. You care nothing for that government or for the country; +you would drop both to-day if your pay ceased. You and I are +outsiders; we are in the world to watch our chances. And our chance is +here." + +He unfolded the creased bit of paper and spread it out on his knees, +smoothing it thoughtfully. + +"What do I care for the Internationale?" he asked, blandly. "I am +high in its councils; Karl Marx knows less about the Internationale +than do I. As for Prussia and France--bah!--it's a dog-fight to me, +and I lack even the interest to bet on the German bull-dog. + +"You will know me better some day, and when you do you will know that +I am a man who has determined to get rich if I have to set half of +France against the other half and sack every bank in the Empire. + +"And now the time is coming when the richest city in Europe will be +put to the sack. You don't believe it? Yet you shall live to see Paris +besieged, and you shall live to see Paris surrender, and you shall +live to see the Internationale rise up from nowhere, seize the +government by the throat, and choke it to death under the red flag of +universal--ahem!... license"--the faintest sneer came into his pallid +face--"and every city of France shall be a commune, and we shall pass +from city to city, leisurely, under the law--_our_ laws, which we will +make--and I pity the man among us who cannot place his millions in the +banks of England and America!" + +He began to worry the creased bit of paper again, stealthy eyes on the +floor. + +"The revolt is as certain as death itself," he said. "The Society of +the Internationale honeycombs Europe--your police archives show you +that--and I tell you that, of the two hundred thousand soldiers of +the national guard in Paris to-day, ninety per cent. are +ours--_ours_, soul and body. You don't believe it? Wait! + +"Yet, for a moment, suppose I am right? Where are the government +forces? Who can stop us from working our will? Not the fragments of +beaten and exhausted armies! Not the thousands of prisoners which you +will see sent into captivity across the Rhine! What has the government +to lean on--a government discredited, impotent, beaten! What in the +world can prevent a change, an uprising, a revolution? Why, even if +there were no such thing as the Internationale and its secret Central +Committee--to which I have the honor to belong"--and here his sneer +was frightful--"I tell you that before a conquering German army had +recrossed the Rhine this land of chattering apes would be tearing one +another for very want of a universal scape-goat. + +"But that is exactly where we come into the affair. We find the +popular scape-goat and point him out--the government, my friend. And +all we have to do is to let the mob loose, stand back, and count +profits." + +He leaned forward in his chair, idly twisting his crumpled bit of +paper in one hand. + +"I am not fool enough to believe that our reign will last," he said. +"It may last a month, two months, perhaps three. Then we leaders will +be at one another's throats--and the game is up! It's always so--mob +rule can't last--it never has lasted and never will. But the prudent +man will make hay before the brief sunshine is ended; I expect to +economize a little, and set aside enough--well, enough to make it pay, +you see." + +He looked up at me quietly. + +"I am perfectly willing to tell you this, even if you used your +approaching liberty to alarm the entire country, from the Emperor to +the most obscure scullion in the Tuileries. Nothing can stop us now, +nothing in the world can prevent our brief reign. Because these +things are certain, the armies of France will be beaten--they are +already beaten. Paris will hold out; Paris will fall; and with Paris +down goes France! And as sure as the sun shall rise on a conquered +people, so sure shall rise that red spectre we call the +Internationale." + +The man astonished me. He put into words a prophecy which had haunted +me from the day that war was declared--a prophetic fear which had +haunted men higher up in the service of the Empire--thinking men who +knew what war meant to a country whose government was as rotten as its +army was unprepared, whose political chiefs were as vain, incompetent, +ignorant, and weak as were the chiefs of its brave army--an army +riddled with politics, weakened by intrigue and neglect--an army used +ignobly, perverted, cheated, lied to, betrayed, abandoned. + +That, for once, Buckhurst spoke the truth as he foresaw it, I did not +question. That he was right in his infernal calculations, I was +fearsomely persuaded. And now the game had advanced, and I must +display what cards I had, or pretended to have. + +"Are you trying to bribe me?" I blurted out, weakly. + +"Bribe you," he repeated, in contempt. "No. If the prospect does not +please you, I have only to say a word to the provost marshal." + +"Wouldn't that injure your prospects with the Countess?" I said, with +fat-brained cunning. "You cannot betray me and hope for her +friendship." + +He glanced up at me, measured my mental capacity, then nodded. + +"I can't force you that way," he admitted. + +"He's bound to get to Paradise. Why?" I wondered, and said, aloud: + +"What do you want of me?" + +"I want immunity from the secret police, Mr. Scarlett." + +"Where?" + +"Wherever I may be." + +"In Morbihan?" + +"Yes." + +"In Paradise?" + +"Yes." + +I was silent for a moment, then, looking him in the eye, "What do I +gain?" + +Ah, the cat was out now. Buckhurst did not move, but I saw the muscles +of his face relax, and he drew a deep, noiseless breath. + +"Well," he said, coolly, "you may keep those diamonds, for one +thing." + +Presently I said, "And for the next thing?" + +"You are high-priced, Mr. Scarlett," he observed. + +"Oh, very," I said, with that offensive, swaggering menace in my +voice which is peculiar to the weak criminal the world over. + +So I asserted myself and scowled at him and told him I was no fool and +taunted him with my importance to his schemes and said I was not born +yesterday, and that if Paris was to be divided I knew what part I +wanted and meant to stand no nonsense from him or anybody. + +All of which justified the opinion he had already formed of me, and +justified something else, too--his faith in his own eloquence, logic, +and powers of persuasion. Not that I meant to make his mistake and +undervalue him; he was an intelligent, capable, remarkable +criminal--with the one failing--an overconfident contempt of _all_ +men. + +"There is one thing I want to ask you," said I. "Why do you desire +to go to Paradise?" + +He did not answer me at once, and I studied his passionless profile as +he gazed out of the window. + +"Well," he said, slowly, "I shall not tell you." + +"Why not?" I demanded. + +"--But I'll say this," he continued. "I want you to come to Paradise +with me and that fool of a woman. I want you to report to your +government that you are watching the house in Paradise, and that you +are hoping to catch me there." + +"How can I do that?" I asked. "As soon as the government catches the +Countess de Vassart she will be sent across the frontier." + +"Not if you inform your government that you desire to use her and the +others as a bait to draw me to Paradise." + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" I asked, thoughtfully. + +"Yes," said Buckhurst, "that's it." + +"And you do not desire to inform me why you are going to stay in +Paradise?" + +"Don't you think you'll be clever enough to find out?" he asked, with +a sneer. + +I did think so; more than that, I let him see that I thought so, and +he was contented with my conceit. + +"One thing more," I said, blustering a little, "I want to know +whether you mean any harm to that innocent girl?" + +"Who? The Countess? What do you mean? Harm her? Do you think I waste +my thoughts on that little fool? She is not a factor in +anything--except that just now I'm using her and mean to use her house +in Paradise." + +"Haven't you stripped her of every cent she has?" I asked. "What do +you want of her now?" And I added something about respect due to +women. + +"Oh yes, of course," he said, with a vague glance at the street +below. "You need not worry; nobody's going to hurt her--" He suddenly +shifted his eyes to me. "You haven't taken a fancy to her, have +you?" he asked, in faint disgust. + +I saw that he thought me weak enough for any sentiment, even a noble +one. + +"If you think it pays," he muttered, "marry her and beat her, for +all I care; but don't play loose with me, my friend; as a plain matter +of business it won't pay you." + +"Is that a threat?" I asked, in the bullying tone of a born coward. + +"No, not a threat, a plain matter of profit and loss, a simple +business proposition. For, suppose you betray me--and, by a miracle, +live to boast of it? What is your reward? A colonelcy in the Military +Police with a few thousand francs salary, and, in your old age, a +pension which might permit you to eat meat twice a week. Against that, +balance what I offer--free play in a helpless city, and no one to +hinder you from salting away as many millions as you can carry off!" + +Presently I said, weakly, "And what, once more, is the service you +ask of me?" + +"I ask you to notify the government that you are watching Paradise, +that you do not arrest the Countess and Dr. Delmont because you desire +to use them as a bait to catch me." + +"Is that all?" + +"That is all. We will start for Paris together; I shall leave you +before we get there. But I'll see you later in Paradise." + +"You refuse to tell me why you wish to stay at the house in +Paradise?" + +"Yes,... I refuse. And, by-the-way, the Countess is to think that I +have presented myself in Paris and that the government has pardoned +me." + +"You are willing to believe that I will not have you arrested?" + +"I don't ask you to promise. If you are fool enough to try it--try +it! But I'm not going to give you the chance in Paris--only in +Paradise." + +"You don't require my word of honor?" + +"Word of--what? Well--no;... it's a form I can dispense with." + +"But how can you protect yourself?" + +"If all the protection I had was a 'word of honor,' I'd be in a +different business, my friend." + +"And you are willing to risk me, and you are perfectly capable of +taking care of yourself?" + +"I think so," he said, quietly. + +"Trusting to my common-sense as a business man not to be fool enough +to cut my own throat by cutting yours?" I persisted. + +"Exactly, and trusting to a few other circumstances, the details of +which I beg permission to keep to myself," he said, with a faint +sneer. + +He rose and walked to the window; at the same moment I heard the sound +of wheels below. + +"I believe that is our carriage," he said. "Are you ready to start, +Mr. Scarlett?" + +"Now?" I exclaimed. + +"Why not? I'm not in the habit of dawdling over anything. Come, sir, +there is nothing very serious the matter with you, is there?" + +I said nothing; he knew, of course, the exact state of the wound I had +received, that the superficial injury was of no account, that the +shock had left me sound as a silver franc though a trifle weak in the +hips and knees. + +"Is the Countess de Vassart to go with us?" I asked, trying to find a +reason for these events which were succeeding one another too quickly +to suit me. + +He gave me an absent-minded nod; a moment later the Countess entered. +She had mended her black crêpe gown where I tore it when I hung in +the shadow of death under the battlements of La Trappe. She wore black +gloves, a trifle shabby, and carried a worn satchel in her hands. + +Buckhurst aided me to rise, the Countess threw my hussar jacket over +my shoulders and buttoned it; I felt the touch of her cool, little +fingers on my hot, unshaved throat. + +"I congratulate you on your convalescence," she said, in a low voice. +"Lean on me, monsieur." + +My head swam; hips and knees were without strength; she aided me down +the stairway and out into the pale sunshine, where stood the same +mud-splashed, rusty vehicle which had brought us hither from La +Trappe. + +The Countess had only a satchel and a valise; Buckhurst's luggage +comprised a long, flat, steel-bound box, a satchel, and a parcel. I +had nothing. My baggage, which I had left in Morsbronn, had without +doubt been confiscated long since; my field-glasses, sabre, and +revolver were gone; I had only what clothes I was wearing--a dirty, +ragged, gray-blue flannel shirt, my muddy jacket, scarlet +riding-breeches, and officer's boots. But in one of the hip-pockets of +my breeches I carried a fortune in diamonds. + +As I stood beside the carriage, wondering how I was going to get in, I +felt an arm slip under my neck and another slide gently under my +knees, and Buckhurst lifted me. Beneath the loose, gray coat-sleeves +his bent arms were rigid as steel; his supple frame straightened; he +moved a step forward and laid me on the shabby cushions. + +The Countess looked at me, turned and glanced up at her +smoke-blackened house, where a dozen Prussian soldiers leaned from the +lower windows smoking their long porcelain pipes and the provost +marshal stood in the doorway, helmeted, spurred, immaculate from +golden cheek-guard to the glittering tip of his silver scabbard. An +Uhlan, dismounted, stood on guard below the steps, his lance at a +"present," the black-and-white swallow-tailed pennon drooping from +the steel point. + +The Countess bent her pretty head under its small black hat; the +provost's white-gloved hand flew to his helmet peak. + +"Fear nothing, madame," he said, pompously. "Your house and its +contents are safe until you return. This village is now German soil." + +The Countess looked at him steadily, gravely. + +"I thank you, monsieur, but frontiers are not changed in a day." + +But she was mistaken. Alsace henceforth must be written Elsass, and +the devastated province called Lothringen was never again to be +written Lorraine. + +The Countess stepped into the carriage and took her place beside me; +Buckhurst followed, seating himself opposite us, and the Alsatian +driver mounted to the box. + +"Your safe-conduct carries you to the French outposts at Saverne," +said the provost, dryly. "If there are no longer French outposts at +Saverne, you may demand a visé for your pass and continue south to +Strasbourg." + +Buckhurst half turned towards the driver. "Allez," he said, quietly, +and the two gaunt horses moved on. + +There was a chill in the white sunshine--the first touch of autumn. +Not a trace of the summer's balm remained in the air; every tree on +the mountain outlines stood out sharp-cut in the crystalline light; +the swift little streams that followed the road ran clear above +autumn-brown pebbles and golden sands. + +Distant beachwoods were turning yellow; yellow gorse lay like patches +of sunshine on the foot-hills; oceans of yellow grain belted the +terraced vineyards. Here and there long, velvety, black strips cut the +green and gold, the trail of fire which had scarred the grain belts; +here and there pillars of smoke floated, dominating blue woodlands, +where the flames of exploding shells had set the forest afire. + +Already from the plateau I could see a streak of silver reflecting the +intense blue sky--the Rhine, upon whose westward cliffs France had +mounted guard but yesterday. + +And now the Rhine was lost, and the vast granite bastions of the +Vosges looked out upon a sea of German forests. Above the Col du +Pigeonnier the semaphore still glistened, but its signals now +travelled eastward, and strange flags fluttered on its invisible +halliards. And every bridge was guarded by helmeted men who halted us, +and every tunnel was barred by mounted Uhlans who crossed their lances +to the ominous shout: "Wer da? On ne basse bas!" The Vosges were +literally crawling with armed men! + +Driving slowly along the base of the hills, I had glimpses of rocky +defiles which pierced the mountain wall; and through every defile +poured infantry and artillery in unbroken columns, and over every +mountain pass streamed endless files of horsemen. Railroad tunnels +were choked with slowly moving trains piled high with artillery; +viaducts glistened with helmets all moving westward; every hillock, +every crag, every height had its group of tiny dark dots or its +solitary Uhlan. + +Very far away I heard cannon--so far away that the hum of the +cannonade was no louder than the panting of our horses on the white +hill-road, and I could hear it only when the carriage stopped at +intervals. + +"Do we take the railroad at Saverne?" I asked at last. "Is there a +railroad there?" + +[Illustration: "EVERY BRIDGE WAS GUARDED"] + +Buckhurst looked up at me. "It is rather strange that a French +officer should not know the railroads in his own country," he said. + +I was silent. I was not the only officer whose shame was his +ignorance of the country he had sworn to defend. Long before the +war broke out, every German regimental officer, commissioned and +non-commissioned, carried a better map of France than could be +found in France itself. And the French government had issued to us +a few wretched charts of Germany, badly printed, full of gross +errors, one or two maps to a regiment, and a few scattered about +among the corps headquarters--among officers who did not even know the +general topography of their own side of the Rhine. + +"Is there a railroad at Saverne?" I repeated, sullenly. + +"You will take a train at Strasbourg," replied Buckhurst. + +"And then?" + +"And then you go to Avricourt," he said. "I suppose at least you +know where that is?" + +"It is on the route to Paris," said I, keeping my temper. "Are we +going direct to Paris?" + +"Madame de Vassart desires to go there," he said, glancing at her +with a sort of sneaking deference which he now assumed in her +presence. + +"It is true," said the Countess, turning to me. "I wish to rest for +a little while before I go to Point Paradise. I am curiously tired of +poverty, Monsieur Scarlett," she added, and held out her shabby gloves +with a gesture of despair; "I am reduced to very little--I have +scarcely anything left,... and I am weak enough to long for the scent +of the winter violets on the boulevards." + +With a faint smile she touched the bright hair above her brow, where +the wind had flung a gleaming tendril over her black veil. + +As I looked at her, I marvelled that she had found it possible to +forsake all that was fair and lovely in life, to dare ignore caste, to +deliberately face ridicule and insult and the scornful anger of her +own kind, for the sake of the filthy scum festering in the sinkholes +of the world. + +There are brave priests who go among lepers, there are brave +missionaries who dispute with the devil over the souls of half-apes in +the Dark Continent. Under the Cross they do the duty they were bred +to. + +But she was bred to other things. Her lungs were never made to breathe +the polluted atmosphere of the proletariat, yelping and slavering in +their kennels; her strait young soul was never born for communion with +the crooked souls of social pariahs, with the stunted and warped +intelligence of fanatics, with the crippled but fierce minds which +dominated the Internationale. + +Not that such contact could ever taint her; but it might break her +heart one day. + +"You will think me very weak and cowardly to seek shelter and comfort +at such a time," she said, raising her gray eyes to me. "But I feel +as though all my strength had slipped away from me. I mean to go back +to my work; I only need a few days of quiet among familiar +scenes--pleasant scenes that I knew when I was young. I think that if +I could only see a single care-free face--only one among all those +who--who once seemed to love me--" + +She turned her head quickly and stared out at the tall pines which +fringed the dusty road. + +Buckhurst blinked at her. + + * * * * * + +It was late in the afternoon when the last Prussian outpost hailed us. +I had been asleep for hours, but was awakened by the clatter of +horses, and I opened my eyes to see a dozen Uhlans come cantering up +and surround our carriage. + +After a long discussion with Buckhurst and a rigid scrutiny of our +permit to pass the lines, the slim officer in command viséd the order. +One of the troopers tied a white handkerchief to his lance-tip, +wheeled his wiry horse, and, followed by a trumpeter, trotted off +ahead of us. Our carriage creaked after them, slowly moving to the +summit of a hill over which the road rose. + +Presently, very far away on the gray-green hill-side, I saw a bit of +white move. The Uhlan flourished his lance from which the handkerchief +fluttered; the trumpeter set his trumpet to his lips and blew the +parley. + +One minute, two, three, ten passed. Then, distant galloping sounded +along the road, nearer, nearer; three horsemen suddenly wheeled into +view ahead--French dragoons, advancing at a solid gallop. The Uhlan +with the flag spurred forward to meet them, saluted, wheeled his +horse, and came back. + +Paid mercenary that I was, my heart began to beat very fast at sight +of those French troopers with their steel helmets bound with +leopard-hide and their horsehair plumes whipping the breeze, and their +sun-bronzed, alert faces and pleasant eyes. I had had enough of the +supercilious, near-sighted eyes of the Teuton. + +As for the young Countess, she sat there smiling, while the clumsy +dragoons came rattling up, beaming at my red riding-breeches, and all +saluting the Countess with a cheerful yet respectful swagger that +touched me deeply as I noted the lines of hunger in their lean jaws. + +And now the brief ceremony was over and our rusty vehicle moved off +down the hill, while the Uhlans turned bridle and clattered off, +scattering showers of muddy gravel in the rising wind. + +The remains of our luncheon lay in a basket under our seat--plenty of +bread and beef, and nearly a quart of red wine. + +"Call the escort--they are starving," I said to Buckhurst. + +"I think not," he said, coolly. "I may eat again." + +"Call the escort!" I repeated, sharply. + +Buckhurst looked up at me in silence, then glanced warily at the +Countess. + +A few moments later the gaunt dragoons were munching dry bread as they +rode, passing the bottle from saddle to saddle. + +We were ascending another hill; the Countess, anxious to stretch her +limbs, had descended to the road, and now walked ahead, one hand +holding her hat, which the ever-freshening wind threatened. + +Buckhurst bent towards me and said: "My friend, your suggestion that +we deprive ourselves to feed those cavalrymen was a trifle peremptory +in tone. I am wondering how much your tone will change when we reach +Paris." + +"You will see," said I. + +"Oh, of course I'll see," he said,... "and so will you." + +"I thought you had means to protect yourself," I observed. + +"I have. Besides, I think you would rather keep those diamonds than +give them up for the pleasure of playing me false." + +I laughed in a mean manner, which reassured him. "Look here," said I, +"if I were to make trouble for you in Paris I'd be the most besotted +fool in France, and you know it." + +He nodded. + +And so I should have been. For there was something vastly more +important to do than to arrest John Buckhurst for theft; and before I +suffered a hair of his sleek, gray head to come to harm I'd have hung +myself for a hopeless idiot. Oh no; my friend John Buckhurst had such +colossal irons in the fire that I knew it would take many more men as +strong as he to lift them out again. And I meant to know what those +irons were for, and who were the gentlemen to aid him lift them. So +not only must Buckhurst remain free as a lively black cricket in a +bog, but he must not be frightened if I could help it. + +And to that end I leered at him knowingly, and presently bestowed a +fatuous wink upon him. + +It was unpleasant for me to do this, for it implied that I was his +creature; and, in spite of the remorseless requirements of my +profession, I have an inborn hatred of falsehood in any shape. To lie +in the line of duty is one of the disagreeable necessities of certain +professions; and mine is not the only one nor the least respectable. +The art of war is to deceive; strategy is the art of demonstrating +falsehood plausibly; there is nothing respectable in the military +profession except the manual--which is now losing importance in the +eyes of advanced theorists. All men are liars--a few are unselfish +ones. + +"You have given me your word of honor," said Buckhurst. + +"Have I?" I had not, and he knew it. I hoped I might not be forced +to. + +"Haven't you?" asked Buckhurst. + +"You sneered at my word of honor," I said, with all the spite of a +coward; "now you don't get it." + +He no longer wanted it, but all he said was: "Don't take unnecessary +offence; you're smart enough to know when you're well off." + + * * * * * + +I dozed towards sunset, waking when the Countess stepped back into the +carriage and seated herself by my side. Then, after a little, I slept +again. And it was nearly dark when I was awakened by the startling +whistle of a locomotive. The carriage appeared to be moving slowly +between tall rows of poplars and telegraph-poles; a battery of +artillery was clanking along just ahead. In the dark southern sky a +luminous haze hung. + +"The lights of Strasbourg," whispered the Countess, as I sat up, +rubbing my hot eyes. + +I looked for Buckhurst; his place was empty. + +"Mr. Buckhurst left us at the railroad crossing," she said. + +"Left us!" + +"Yes! He boarded a train loaded with wounded.... He had business to +transact in Colmar before he presented himself to the authorities in +Paris.... And we are to go by way of Avricourt." + +So Buckhurst had already begun to execute his programme. But the +abrupt, infernal precision of the man jarred me unpleasantly. + +In the dark I felt cautiously for my diamonds; they were safe in my +left hip-pocket. + + * * * * * + +The wind had died out, and a fine rain began to filter down through a +mist which lay over the flat plain as we entered the suburbs of +Strasbourg. + +Again and again we were halted by sentinels, then permitted to proceed +in the darkness, along deserted avenues lighted by gas-jets burning in +tall bronze lamp-posts through a halo of iridescent fog. + +We passed deserted suburban villas, blank stretches of stucco walls +enclosing gardens, patches of cabbages, thickets of hop-poles to which +the drenched vines clung fantastically, and scores of abandoned +houses, shutters locked, blinds drawn. + +High to the east the ramparts of the city loomed, set at regular +distances with electric lights; from the invisible citadel rockets +were rising, spraying the fog with jewelled flakes, crumbling to +golden powder in the starless void above. + +Presently our carriage stopped before a tremendous mass of masonry +pierced by an iron, arched gate, through which double files of +farm-wagons were rolling, escorted by customs guards and marines. + +"No room! no room!" shouted the soldiers. "This is the Porte de +Pierre. Go to the Porte de Saverne!" + +So we passed on beneath the bastions, skirting the ramparts to the +Porte de Saverne, where, after a harangue, the gate guards admitted +us, and we entered Strasbourg in the midst of a crush of vehicles. At +the railroad station hundreds of cars choked the tracks; loaded +freight trains stalled in the confusion, trains piled with ammunition +and provisions, trains crowded with horses and cattle and sheep, +filling the air with melancholy plaints; locomotives backing and +whistling, locomotives blowing off deafening blasts of steam; gongs +sounding, bells ringing, station-masters' trumpets blowing; and, above +all, the immense clamor of human voices. + +The Countess and our Alsatian driver helped me to the platform, I +looked around with dread at the throng, being too weak to battle for a +foothold; but the brave Alsatian elbowed a path for me, and the +Countess warded off the plunging human cattle, and at length I found +myself beside the cars where line-soldiers stood guard at every ten +paces and gendarmes stalked about, shoving the frantic people into +double files. + +"Last train for Paris!" bawled an official in gilt and blue; and to +the anxious question of the Countess he shook his head, saying, +"There is no room, madame; it is utterly impossible--pardon, I cannot +discuss anything now; the Prussians are signalled at Ostwald, and +their shells may fall here at any moment." + +"If that is so," I said, "this lady cannot stay here!" + +"I can't help that!" he shouted, starting off down the platform. + +I caught the sleeve of a captain of gendarmerie who was running to +enter a first-class compartment. + +"Eh--what do you want, monsieur?" he snapped, in surprise. Then, as I +made him a sign, he regarded me with amazement. I had given the +distress signal of the secret police. + +"Try to make room for this lady in your compartment," I said. + +"Willingly, monsieur. Hasten, madame; the train is already moving!" +and he tore open the compartment door and swung the Countess to the +car platform. + +I suppose she thought I was to follow, for when the officer slammed +the compartment door she stepped to the window and tried to open it. + +"Quick!" she cried to the guard, who had just locked the door; "help +that officer in! He is wounded--can't you see he is wounded?" + +The train was gliding along the asphalt platform; I hobbled beside the +locked compartment, where she stood at the window. + +"Will you unlock that door?" said the Countess to the guard. "I wish +to leave the train!" + +The cars were rolling a little faster than I could move along. + +The Countess leaned from the open window; through the driving rain her +face in the lamp-light was pitifully white. I made a last effort and +caught up with her car. + +"A safe journey, madame," I stammered, catching at the hand she held +out and brushing the shabby-gloved fingers with my lips. + +[Illustration: "SISTERS OF CHARITY WERE GIVING FIRST AID"] + +"I shall never forgive this wanton self-sacrifice," she said, +unsteadily. Then the car rolled silently past me, swifter, swifter, +and her white face faded from my sight. Yet still I stood there, +bareheaded, in the rain, while the twin red lamps on the rear car grew +smaller and smaller, until they, too, were shut out in the closing +curtains of the fog. + +As I turned away into the lighted station a hospital train from the +north glided into the yard and stopped. Soldiers immediately started +carrying out the wounded and placing them in rows on mattresses ranged +along the walls of the passenger depot; sisters of charity, hovering +over the mutilated creatures, were already giving first aid to the +injured; policemen kept the crowd from trampling the dead and dying; +gendarmes began to clear the platforms, calling out sharply, "No more +trains to-night! Move on! This platform is for government officials +only!" + +Through the scrambling mob a file of wounded tottered, escorted by +police; women were forced back and pushed out into the street, only to +be again menaced by galloping military ambulances arriving, +accompanied by hussars. The confusion grew into a tumult; men +struggled and elbowed for a passage to the platforms, women sobbed and +cried; through the uproar the treble wail of terrified children broke +out. + +Jostled, shoved, pulled this way and that, I felt that I was destined +to go down under the people's feet, and I don't know what would have +become of me had not a violent push sent me against the door of the +telegraph office. The door gave way, and I fell on my knees, staggered +to my feet, and crept out once more to the platform. + +The station-master passed, a haggard gentleman in rumpled uniform and +gilt cap; and as he left the office by the outer door the heavy +explosion of a rampart cannon shook the station. + +"Can you get me to Paris?" I asked. + +"Quick, then," he muttered; "this way--lean on me, monsieur! I am +trying to send another train out--but Heaven alone knows! Quick, this +way!" + +The glare of a locomotive's headlight dazzled me; I made towards it, +clinging to the arm of the station-master; the ground under my feet +rocked with the shock of the siege-guns. Suddenly a shell fell and +burst in the yard outside; there was a cry, a rush of trainmen, a +gendarme shouting; then the piercing alarm notes of locomotives, +squealing like terrified leviathans. + +The train drawn up along the platform gave a jerk and immediately +moved out towards the open country, compartment doors swinging wide, +trainmen and guards running alongside, followed by a mob of frenzied +passengers, who leaped into empty compartments, flinging satchels and +rugs to the four winds. Crash! A shell fell through the sloping roof +of the platform and blew up. Through the white cloud and brilliant +glare I saw a porter, wheeling boxes and trunks, fall, buried under an +avalanche of baggage, and a sister of charity throw up her arms as +though to shield her face from the fragments. + +A car, doors swinging wide, glided past me; I caught the rail and fell +forward into a compartment. The cushions of the seats were afire, and +a policeman was hammering out the sparks with naked fists. + +I was too weak to aid him. Presently he hurled the last burning +cushion from the open door and leaped out into the train-yard, where +red and green lamps glowed and the brilliant flare of bursting shells +lighted the fog. By this time the train was moving swiftly; the car +windows shook with the thunder from the ramparts under which we were +passing; then came inky darkness--a tunnel--then a rush of mist and +wind from the open door as we swept out into the country. + +Passengers clinging to the platforms now made their way into the +compartment where I lay almost senseless, and soon the little place +was crowded, and somebody slammed the door. + +Then the flying locomotive, far ahead, shrieked, and the train leaped, +rushing forward into the unknown. Blackness, stupefying blackness, +outside; inside, unseen, the huddled passengers, breathing heavily +with sudden stifled sobs, or the choked, indrawn breath of terror; but +not a word, not a quaver of human voices; peril strangled speech as +our black train flew onward through the night. + + + + +VIII + +A MAN TO LET + + +The train which bore me out of the arc of the Prussian fire at +Strasbourg passed in between the fortifications of Paris the next +morning about eleven o'clock. Ten minutes later I was in a closed cab +on my way to the headquarters of the Imperial Military Police, +temporarily housed in the Luxembourg Palace. + +The day was magnificent; sunshine flooded the boulevards, and a few +chestnut-trees in the squares had already begun to blossom for the +second time in the season; there seemed to be no prophecy of autumn in +sky or sunlight. + +The city, as I saw it from the open window of my cab, appeared to be +in a perfectly normal condition. There were, perhaps, a few more +national-guard soldiers on the streets, a few more brightly colored +posters, notices, and placards on the dead walls, but the life of the +city itself had not changed at all; the usual crowds filled the +boulevards, the usual street cries sounded, the same middle-aged +gentlemen sat in front of the cafés reading the same daily papers, the +same waiters served them the same drinks; rows of cabs were drawn up +where cabs are always to be found, and the same policemen dawdled in +gossip with the same flower-girls. I caught the scent of early winter +violets in the fresh Parisian breeze. + +Was this the city that Buckhurst looked upon as already doomed? + +On the marble bridge gardeners were closing up the morning +flower-market; blue-bloused men with jointed hose sprinkled the +asphalt in front of the Palais de Justice; students strolled under the +trees from the School of Medicine to the Sorbonne; the Luxembourg +fountain tossed its sparkling sheets of spray among the lotus. + +All this I saw, yet a sinister foreboding oppressed me, and I could +not shake it off even in this bright city where September was +promising only a new lease of summer and the white spikes of chestnut +blossoms hummed with eager bees. + +Physically I felt well enough; the cramped sleep in the dark +compartment, far from exhausting me, had not only rested me, but had +also brought me an appetite which I meant to satisfy as soon as might +be. As for my back, it was simply uncomfortable, but all effects of +the shock had disappeared--unless this heavy mental depression was due +to it. + +My cab was now entering the Palace of the Luxembourg by the great arch +facing the Rue de Tournon; the line sentinels halted us; I left the +cab, crossed the parade in front of the guard-house, turned to the +right, and climbed the stairs straight to my own quarters, which were +in the west wing of the palace, and consisted of a bedroom, a working +cabinet, and a dressing-room. + +But I did not enter my door or even glance at it; I continued straight +on, down the corridor to a door, on the ground-glass panes of which +was printed in red lettering: + + HEADQUARTERS + IMPERIAL MILITARY POLICE + SAFE DEPOSIT + +The sentinel interrogated me for form's sake, although he knew me; I +entered, passed rapidly along the face of the steel cage behind which +some officers sat on high stools, writing, and presented myself at the +guichet marked, "Foreign Division." + +There was no military clerk in attendance there, and, to my surprise, +the guichet was closed. + +However, a very elegant officer strolled up to the guichet as I laid +my bag of diamonds on the glass shelf, languidly unlocked the steel +window-gate, and picked up the bag of jewels. + +The officer was Mornac, the Emperor's alter ego, or âme damnée, who +had taken over the entire department the very day I left Paris for the +frontier. Officially, I could not recognize him until I presented +myself to Colonel Jarras with my report; so I saluted his uniform, +standing at attention in my filthy clothes, awaiting the usual +question and receipt. + +"Name and number?" inquired Mornac, indolently. + +I gave both. + +"You desire to declare?" + +I enumerated the diamonds, and designated them as those lately stolen +from the crucifix of Louis XI. + +Mornac handed me a printed certificate of deposit, opened a +compartment in the safe, and tossed in the bag without sealing it. +And, as I stood waiting, he lighted a scented cigarette, glanced over +at me, puffed once or twice, and finally dismissed me with a +discourteous nod. + +I went, because he was Mornac; I thought that I was entitled to a +bureau receipt, but could scarcely demand one from the chief of the +entire department who had taken over the bureau solely in order to +reform it, root and branch. Doubtless his curt dismissal of me without +the customary receipt and his failure to seal the bag were two of his +reforms. + +I limped off past the glittering steel cage, thankful that the jewels +were safe, turned into the corridor, and hastened back to my own +rooms. + +To tear off my rags, bathe, shave, and dress in a light suit of +civilian clothes took me longer than usual, for I was a trifle lame. + +Bath and clean clothes ought to have cheered me; but the contrary was +the case, and I sat down to a breakfast brought by a palace servant, +and ate it gloomily, thinking of Buckhurst, and the Countess, and of +Morsbronn, and of the muddy dead lying under the rifle smoke below my +turret window. + +I thought, too, of that astonishing conspiracy which had formed under +the very shadow of the imperial throne, and through which already the +crucifix and diamonds of Louis XI. had been so nearly lost to France. + +Who besides Buckhurst was involved? How far had Colonel Jarras gone in +the investigation during my absence? How close to the imperial throne +had the conspiracy burrowed? + +Pondering, I slowly retraced my steps through the bedroom and +dressing-room, and out into the tiled hallway, where, at the end of +the dim corridor, the door of Colonel Jarras's bureau stood partly +open. + +Jarras was sitting at his desk as I entered, and he gave me a +leaden-eyed stare as I closed the door behind me and stood at +attention. + +For a moment he said nothing, but presently he partly turned his +ponderous body towards me and motioned me to a chair. + +As I sat down I glanced around and saw my old comrade, Speed, sitting +in a dark corner, chewing a cigarette and watching me in alert +silence. + +"You are present to report?" suggested Colonel Jarras, heavily. + +I bowed, glancing across at Speed, who shrugged his shoulders and +looked at the floor with an ominous smile. + +Mystified, I began my report, but was immediately stopped by Jarras +with a peevish gesture: "All right, all right; keep all that for the +Chief of Department. Your report doesn't concern me." + +"Doesn't concern you!" I repeated; "are you not chief of this +bureau, Colonel Jarras?" + +"No," snapped Jarras; "and there's no bureau now--at least no bureau +for the Foreign Division." + +Speed leaned forward and said: "Scarlett, my friend, the Foreign +Division of the Imperial Military Police is not in favor just now. It +appears the Foreign Division is suspected." + +"Suspected? Of what?" + +"Treason, I suppose," said Speed, serenely. + +I felt my face begin to burn, but the astonishing news left me +speechless. + +"I said," observed Speed, "that the Foreign Division is suspected; +that is not exactly the case; it is not suspected, simply because it +has been abolished." + +"Who the devil did that?" I asked, savagely. + +"Mornac." + +Mornac! The Emperor's shadow! Then truly enough it was all up with the +Foreign Division. But the shame of it!--the disgrace of as faithful a +body of police, mercenaries though they were, as ever worked for any +cause, good or bad. + +"So it's the old whine of treason again, is it?" I said, while the +blood beat in my temples. "Oh, very well, doubtless Monsieur Mornac +knows his business. Are we transferred, Speed, or just kicked out into +the street?" + +"Kicked out," replied Speed, rubbing his slim, bony hands together. + +"And you, sir?" I asked, turning to Jarras, who sat with his fat, +round head buried in his shoulders, staring at the discolored blotter +on his desk. + +The old Corsican straightened as though stung: "Since when, monsieur, +have subordinates assumed the right to question their superiors?" + +I asked his pardon in a low voice, although I was no longer his +subordinate. He had been a good and loyal chief to us all; the least I +could do now was to show him respect in his bitter humiliation. + +I think he felt our attitude and that it comforted him, but all he +said was: "It is a heavy blow. The Emperor knows best." + +As we sat there in silence, a soldier came to summon Colonel Jarras, +and he went away, leaning on his ivory-headed cane, head bowed over +the string of medals on his breast. + +When he had gone, Speed came over and shut the door, then shook hands +with me. + +"He's gone to see Mornac; it will be our turn next. Look out for +Mornac, or he'll catch you tripping in your report. Did you find +Buckhurst?" + +"Look here," I said, angrily, "how can Mornac catch me tripping? I'm +not under his orders." + +"You are until you're discharged. You see, they've taken it into +their heads, since the crucifix robbery, to suspect everybody and +anybody short of the Emperor. Mornac came smelling around here the day +you left. He's at the bottom of all this--a nice business to cast +suspicion on our division because we're foreigners. Gad, he looks like +a pickpocket himself--he's got the oblique trick of the eyes and the +restless finger movement." + +"Perhaps he is," I said. + +Speed looked at me sharply. + +"If I were in the service now I'd arrest Mornac--if I dared." + +"You might as well arrest the Emperor," I said, wearily. + +"That's it," observed Speed, throwing away his chewed cigarette. +"Nobody dare touch Mornac; nobody dare even watch him. But if there's +a leak somewhere, it's far more probable that Mornac did the dirty +work than that there's a traitor in our division." + +Presently he added: "Did you catch Buckhurst?" + +"I don't want to talk about it," I said, disgusted. + +"--Because," continued Speed, "if you've got him, it may save us. +Have you?" + +How I wished that I had Buckhurst safely handcuffed beside me! + +"If you've got him," persisted Speed, "we'll shake him like a rat +until he squeals. And if he names Mornac--" + +"Do you think that Mornac would give him or us the chance?" I said. +"Rubbish! He'd do the shaking _in camera_; and it would only be a +hand-shaking if Buckhurst is really his creature. And he's rid himself +of our division, anyhow. Wait!" I added, sharply; "perhaps that is +the excuse! Perhaps that is the very reason that he's abolished the +foreign division! We may have been getting too close to the root of +this matter; I had already caught Buckhurst--" + +"You had?" cried Speed, eagerly. + +"But I'm not going to talk about it now," I added, sullenly. "My +troubles are coming; I've a story to tell that won't please Mornac, +and I have an idea that he means mischief to me." + +Speed looked curiously at me, and I went on: + +"I used my own judgment--supposing that Jarras was my chief. I knew +he'd let me take my own way--but I don't know what Mornac will say." + +However, I was soon to know what Mornac had to say, for a soldier +appeared to summon us both, and we followed to the temporary bureau +which looked out to the east over the lovely Luxembourg gardens. + +Jarras passed us as we entered; his heavy head was bent, and I do not +suppose that he saw either us or our salutes, for he shuffled off down +the dark passage, tapping his slow way like a blind man; and Speed and +I entered, saluting Mornac. + +The personage whom we saluted was a symmetrical, highly colored +gentleman, with black mustache and Oriental eyes. His skin was too +smooth--there was not a line or a wrinkle visible on hand or face, +nothing but plump flesh pressing the golden collar of his light-blue +tunic and the half-dozen gold rings on his carefully kept, restless +fingers. His light, curved sabre hung by its silver chain from a nail +on a wall behind him; beside it, suspended by the neck cord, was his +astrakhan-trimmed dolman of palest turquoise-blue, and over that hung +his scarlet cap. + +As he raised his heavy-lidded, insolent eyes to me, I thought I had +never before appreciated the utter falseness of his visage as I did at +that moment. Instantly I decided that he meant evil to me; and I +instinctively glanced at Speed, standing beside me at attention, his +clear blue eyes alert, his lank limbs and lean head fairly tremulous +with comprehension. + +At a careless nod from Mornac I muttered the formal "I have to +report, sir--" and began mumbling a perfunctory account of my +movements since leaving Paris. He listened, idly contemplating a +silver penknife which he alternately snapped open and closed, the +click of the spring punctuating my remarks. + +I told the truth as far as I went, which brought me to my capture by +Uhlans and the natural escape of my prisoner, Buckhurst. I merely +added that I had secured the diamonds and had managed to reach Paris +via Strasbourg. + +"Is that all?" inquired Mornac, listlessly. + +"All I have to report, sir." + +"Permit me to be the judge of how much you have to report," said +Mornac. "Continue." + +I was silent. + +"Do you prefer that I draw out information by questions?" asked +Mornac, looking up at me. + +I was already in his net; I ought not to have placed myself in the +position of concealing anything, yet I distrusted him and wished to +avoid giving him a chance to misunderstand me. But now it was too +late; if the error could be wiped out at all, the only way to erase it +was by telling him everything and giving him his chance to +misinterpret me if he desired it. + +He listened very quietly while I told of my encounter with Buckhurst +in Morsbronn, of our journey to Saverne, to Strasbourg, and finally my +own arrival in Paris. + +"Where is Buckhurst?" he asked. + +"I do not know," I replied, doggedly. + +"That is to say that you had him in your power within the French +lines yet did not secure him?" + +"Yes." + +"Your orders were to arrest him?" + +"Yes." + +"And shoot him if he resisted?" + +"Yes." + +"But you let him go?" + +"There was something more important to do than to arrest Buckhurst. I +meant to find out what he had on hand in Paradise." + +"So you disobeyed orders?" + +"If you care to so interpret my action." + +"Why did you not arrest the Countess de Vassart?" + +"I did; the Uhlans made me prisoner as I reported to you." + +"I mean, why did you not arrest her after you left Morsbronn?" + +"That would have prevented Buckhurst from going to Paradise." + +"Your orders were to arrest the Countess?" + +"Yes." + +"Did you obey those orders?" + +"No," I said, between my teeth. + +"Why?" + +"I had every reason to believe that an important conspiracy was being +ripened somewhere near Paradise. I had every reason to believe that +the robbery of the crown jewels might furnish funds for the plotters. + +"The arrest of one man could not break up the conspiracy; I desired +to trap the leaders; and to that end I deliberately liberated this man +Buckhurst as a stool-pigeon. If my judgment has been at fault, I +accept the blame." + +Mornac's silver penknife closed. Presently he opened the blade again +and tested the edge on his plump forefinger. + +"I beg to call your attention to the fact," I continued, "that a +word from Buckhurst to the provost at Morsbronn would have sent me +before the squad of execution. In a way, I bought my freedom. But," I +added, slowly, "I should never have bought it if the bargain by which +I saved my own skin had been a betrayal of France. Nobody wants to +die; but in my profession we discount that. No man in my division is a +physical coward. I purchased my freedom not only without detriment to +France, but, on the contrary, to the advantage of France." + +"At the expense of your honor," observed Mornac. + +My ears were burning; I advanced a pace and looked Mornac straight +between the eyes; but his eyes did not meet mine--they were fixed on +his silver penknife. + +"I did the best I could do in the line of duty," I said. "You ask me +why I did not break my word and arrest Buckhurst after we left the +German lines. And I answer you that I had given my word not to arrest +him, in pursuance of my plan to use him further." + +Mornac examined his carefully kept finger-tips in detail. + +"You say he bribed you?" + +"I said that he attempted to do so," I replied, sharply. + +"With the diamonds?" + +"Yes." + +"You have them?" + +"I deposited them as usual." + +"Bring them." + +Angry as I was, I saluted, wheeled, and hastened off to the safe +deposit. The jewel-bag was delivered when I presented my printed slip; +I picked it up and marched back, savagely biting my mustache and +striving to control my increasing exasperation. Never before had I +endured insolence from a superior officer. + +Mornac was questioning Speed as I entered, and that young man, who has +much self-control to learn, was already beginning to answer with +disrespectful impatience, but my advent suspended matters, and Mornac +took the bag of jewels from my hands and examined it. He seemed to be +in no hurry to empty it; he lolled in his chair with an absent-minded +expression like the expression of a cat who pretends to forget the +mouse between her paws. Danger was written all over him; I squared my +shoulders and studied him, braced for a shock. + +The shock came almost immediately, for, without a word, he suddenly +emptied the jewel-bag on the desk before him. The bag contained +little pebbles wrapped in tissue-paper. + +I heard Speed catch his breath sharply; I stared stupidly at the +pebbles. Mornac made a careless, sweeping gesture, spreading the +pebbles out before us with his restless, ringed fingers. + +"Suppose you explain this farce?" he suggested, unmoved. + +"Suppose _you_ explain it!" I stammered. + +He raised his delicately arched eyebrows. "What do you mean?" + +"I mean that an hour ago that bag contained the diamonds from the +crucifix of Louis XI! I mean that I handed them over to you on my +arrival at this bureau!" + +"Doubtless you can prove what you say," he observed, and his silver +penknife snapped shut like the click of a trap, and he lay back in his +padded chair and slipped the knife into his pocket. + +I looked at Speed; his sandy hair fairly bristled, but his face was +drawn and tense. I looked at Mornac; his heavy, black eyes met mine +steadily. + +"It seems to me," he said, "that it was high time we abolished the +Foreign Division, Imperial Military Police." + +"I refuse to be discharged!" I said, hoarsely. "It is your word +against mine; I demand an investigation!" + +"Certainly," he replied, almost wearily, and touched a bell. "Bring +that witness," he added to the soldier who appeared in answer to the +silvery summons. + +"I mean an official inquiry," I said--"a court-martial. It is my +right where my honor is questioned." + +"It is my right, when you question my honor, to throw you into Mont +Valérien, neck and heels," he said, showing his teeth under his silky, +black mustache. + +Almost stunned by his change of tone, I stood like a stone. Somebody +entered the room behind me, passed me; there was an odor of violets in +the air, a faint rustle of silk, and I saw Mornac rise and bow to his +guest and conduct her to a chair. + +His guest was the young Countess de Vassart. + +She looked up at me brightly, gave me a pretty nod of recognition, +then turned expectantly to Mornac, who was still standing at her +elbow, saying, "Then it is no longer a question of my exile, +monsieur?" + +"No, madame; there has been a mistake. The government has no reason +to suspect your loyalty." He turned directly on me. "Madame, do you +know this officer?" + +"Yes," said the Countess, smiling. + +"Did you see him receive a small sack of diamonds in Morsbronn?" + +The Countess gave me a quick glance of surprise. "Yes," she said, +wonderingly. + +"Thank you, madame; that is sufficient," he replied; and before I +could understand what he was about he had conducted the Countess to +the next room and had closed the door behind him. + +"Quick!" muttered Speed at my elbow; "let's back out of this trap. +There's no use; he's one of them, and he means to ruin you." + +"I won't go!" I said, in a cold fury; "I'll choke the truth out of +him, I tell you." + +"Man! Man! He's the Emperor's shadow! You're done for; come on while +there's time. I tell you there's no hope for you here." + +"Hope! What do I care?" I said, harshly. "Why, Speed, that man is a +common thief." + +"What of it?" whispered Speed. "Doesn't everybody know that the +conspiracy runs close to the throne? What do you care? Come on, I tell +you; I've had enough of this rotten government. So have you. And +we've both seen enough to ruin us. Come on!" + +"But he's got those diamonds! Do you think I can stand that?" + +"I think you've got to," muttered Speed, savagely. "Do you want to +rot in Cayenne? If you do, stay here and bawl for a court-martial!" + +"But the government--" + +"Let the government go to the devil! It's going fast enough, anyhow. +Come, don't let Mornac find us here when he returns. He may be coming +now--quick, Scarlett! We've got to cut for it!" + +"Speed," I said, unsteadily, "it's enough to make an honest man +strike hands with Buckhurst in earnest." + +Speed took my arm with a cautious glance at the door of the next room, +and urged me toward the corridor. + +"The government has kicked us out into the street," he muttered; "be +satisfied that the government didn't kick us into Biribi. And it will +yet if you don't come." + +"Come? Where? I haven't any money, and now they've got my honor--" + +"Rubbish!" he whispered, fairly dragging me into the hallway. "Here! +No--don't go to your rooms. Leave everything--get clear of this +rat-pit, I tell you." + +He half pushed, half dragged me to the parade; then, dropping my arm, +he struck a jaunty pace through the archway, not even glancing at the +sentinels. I kept pace with him, scarcely knowing what I did. + +In the Rue de Seine I halted suddenly, crying out that I must go back, +but he seized me with a growl of "Idiot! come on!" and fairly shoved +me through the colonnades of the Institute, along the quay, down the +river-wall, to a dock where presently a swift river-boat swung in for +passengers. And when the bateau mouche shot out again into mid-stream, +Speed and I stood silently on deck, watching the silver-gray façades +of Paris fly past above us under the blue sky. + +We sat far forward, quite alone, and separated from the few passengers +by the pilot-house and jointed funnel. And there, carelessly lounging, +with one of his lank legs crossed over the other and a cigar between +his teeth, my comrade coolly recounted to me the infamous history of +the past week: + +"Jarras put his honest, old, square-toed foot in it by accident; I +don't know how he managed to do it, but this is certain: he suddenly +found himself on a perfectly plain trail which could only end at +Mornac's threshold. + +"Then he did a stupid thing--he called Mornac in and asked him, in +perfect faith, to clear up the affair, never for a moment suspecting +that Mornac was the man. + +"That occurred the day you started to catch Buckhurst. And on that +day, too, I had found out something; and like a fool I told Jarras." + +Speed chewed his cigar and laughed. + +"In twenty-four hours Jarras was relieved of his command; I was +requested not to leave the Luxembourg--in other words, I was under +arrest, and Mornac took over the entire department and abolished the +Foreign Division 'for the good of the service,' as the _Official_ had +it next day. + +"Then somebody--Mornac probably--let loose a swarm of those shadowy +lies called rumors--you know how that is done!--and people began to +mutter, and the cafés began to talk of treason among the foreign +police. Of course Rochefort took it up; of course the _Official_ +printed a half-hearted denial which was far worse than an avowal. Then +the division was abolished, and the illustrated papers made filthy +caricatures of us, and drew pictures of Mornac, sabre in hand, +decapitating a nest full of American rattlesnakes and British cobras, +and Rochefort printed a terrible elaboration of the fable of the +farmer and the frozen serpent." + +"Oh, that's enough," I said, sick with rage and disgust. "Let them +look out for their own country now. I pity the Empress; I pity the +Emperor. I don't know what Mornac means to do, but I know that the +Internationale boa-constrictor is big enough to swallow government, +dynasty, and Empire, and it is going to try." + +"I am certain of one thing," said Speed, staring out over the sun-lit +water with narrowing eyes. "I know that Mornac is using Buckhurst." + +"Perhaps it is Buckhurst who is using Mornac," I suggested. + +"I think both those gentlemen have the same view in end--to feather +their respective nests under cover of a general smash," said Speed. +"It would not do for Mornac to desert the Empire under any +circumstances. But he can employ Buckhurst to squeeze it dry and then +strike an attitude as its faithful defender in adversity." + +"But why does Buckhurst desire to go to Paradise?" I asked. + +The boat swung into a dock near the Point du Jour; a few passengers +left, a few came aboard; the boat darted on again under the high +viaduct of masonry, past bastions on which long siege cannon glistened +in the sunshine, past lines of fresh earthworks, past grassy +embankments on which soldiers moved to the rumble of drums. + +"I know something about Paradise," said Speed, in a low voice. + +I waited; Speed chewed his cigar grimly. + +"Look here, Scarlett," he said. "Do you know what has become of the +crown jewels of France?" + +"No," I said. + +"Well, I'll tell you. You know, of course, that the government is +anxious; you know that Paris is preparing to stand siege if the +Prussians double up Bazaine and the army of Châlons in the north. But +you don't know what a pitiable fright the authorities are in. Why, +Scarlett, they are scared almost to the verge of idiocy." + +"They've passed that verge," I observed. + +"Yes, they have. They have had a terrible panic over the safety of +the crown jewels--they were nervous enough before the robbery. And +this is what they've done in secret: + +"The crown jewels, the bars of gold of the reserve, the great +pictures from the Louvre, the antiques of value, including the Venus +of Milo, have been packed in cases and loaded on trains under heavy +guard. + +"Twelve of these trains have already left Paris for the war-port of +Lorient. The others are to follow, one every twenty-four hours at +midnight. + +"Whether these treasures are to be locked up in Lorient, or whether +they are to be buried in the sand-dunes along the coast, I don't know. +But I know this: a swift cruiser--the _Fer-de-Lance_--is lying off +Paradise, between the light-house and the Ile de Groix, with steam up +night and day, ready to receive the treasures of the government at the +first alarm and run for the French possessions in Cochin-China. + +"And now, perhaps, you may guess why Buckhurst is so anxious to hang +around Paradise." + +Of course I was startled. Speed's muttered information gave me the +keys to many doors. And behind each door were millions and millions +and millions of francs' worth of plunder. + +Our eyes met in mute interrogation; Speed smiled. + +"Of course," said I, with dry lips, "Buckhurst is devil enough to +attempt anything." + +"Especially if backed by Mornac," said Speed. + +Suddenly the professional aspect of the case burst on me like a shower +of glorious sunshine. + +"Oh, for the chance!" I said, brokenly. "Speed! Think of it! Think +how completely we have the thing in hand!" + +"Yes," he said, with a shrug, "only we have just been kicked out of +the service in disgrace, and we are now going to be fully occupied in +running away from the police." + +That was true enough; I had scarcely had time to realize our position +as escaped suspects of the department. And with the recognition of my +plight came a rush of hopeless rage, of bitter regret, and +soul-sickening disappointment. + +So this was the end of my career--a fugitive, disgraced, probably +already hunted. This was my reward for faithful service--penniless, +almost friendless, liable to arrest and imprisonment with no hope of +justice from Emperor or court-martial--a banned, ruined, proscribed +outcast, in blind flight. + +"I've thought of the possibility of this," observed Speed, quietly. +"We've got to make a living somehow. In fact, I'm to let--and so are +you." + +I looked at him, too miserable to speak. + +"I had an inkling of it," he said. A shrewd twinkle came into his +clear, Yankee eyes; he chewed his wrecked cigar and folded his lank +arms. + +"So," he continued, tranquilly, blinking at the sparkling river, "I +drew out all my money--and yours, too." + +"Mine!" I stammered. "How could you?" + +"Forged an order," he admitted. "Can you forgive me, Scarlett?" + +"Forgive you! Bless your generous heart!" I muttered, as he handed me +a sealed packet. + +"Not at all," he said, laughing; "a crime in time saves nine--eh, +Scarlett? Pocket it; it's all there. Now listen. I have made +arrangements of another kind. Do you remember an application for +license from the manager of a travelling American show--a Yankee +circus?" + +"Byram's Imperial American Circus?" I said. + +"That's it. They went through Normandy last summer. Well, Byram's +agent is going to meet us at Saint-Cloud. We're engaged; I'm to do +ballooning--you know I worked one of the military balloons before +Petersburg. You are to do sensational riding. You were riding-master +in the Spahis--were you not?" + +I looked at him, almost laughing. Suddenly the instinct of my vagabond +days returned like a sweet wind from the wilds, smiting me full in the +face. + +"I tamed three lions for my regiment at Constantine," I said. + +"Good lad! Then you can play with Byram's lions, too. Oh, what the +devil!" he cried, recklessly; "it's all in a lifetime. Quand même, +and who cares? We've life before us and an honest living in view, and +Byram has packed two of his men back to England and I've tinkered up +their passports to suit us. So we're reasonably secure." + +"Will you tell me, Speed, why you were wise enough to do all this +while I was gone?" I asked, in astonishment. + +"Because," said Speed, deliberately, "I distrusted Mornac from the +hour he entered the department." + +A splendid officer of police was spoiled when Mornac entered the +department. + +Presently the deck guard began to shout: "Saint-Cloud! Saint-Cloud!" +and the little boat glided up alongside the floating pier. Speed rose; +I followed him across the gang-plank; and, side by side, we climbed +the embankment. + +"Do you mean to say that Byram is going travelling about with his +circus in spite of the war?" I whispered. + +"Yes, indeed. We start south from Chartres to-morrow." + +Presently I said: "Do you suppose we will go to Lorient +or--Paradise?" + +"We will if I have anything to say about it," replied Speed, throwing +away his ragged cigar. + +And I walked silently beside him, thinking of the young Countess and +of Buckhurst. + + + + +PART SECOND + + + + +IX + +THE ROAD TO PARADISE + + +On the 3d of November Byram's American Circus, travelling slowly +overland toward the Spanish frontier, drew up for an hour's rest at +Quimperlé. I, however, as usual, prepared to ride forward to select a +proper place for our night encampment, and to procure the necessary +license. + +The dusty procession halted in the town square, which was crowded, and +as I turned in my saddle I saw Byram stand up on the red-and-gold +band-wagon and toss an armful of circulars and bills into the throng. + +The white bits of paper fluttered wide and disappeared in the sea of +white Breton head-dresses; there was a rhythmic clatter of wooden +shoes, an undulation of snowy coiffes, then a low murmur as the people +slowly read the circulars aloud, their musical monotone accompanying +the strident nasal voice of Byram, who stood on the tarnished +band-wagon shouting his crowd around him. + +"Mossoors et madams! Ecooty see voo play! J'ai l'honnoor de vous +presenter le ploo magnifique cirque--" And the invariable réclame +continued to the stereotyped finis; the clown bobbed up behind Byram +and made his usual grimaces, and the band played "The Cork Leg." + +The Bretons looked on in solemn astonishment: my comrade, Speed, +languidly stood up on the elephant and informed the people that our +circus was travelling to Lorient to fill a pressing engagement, and if +we disappointed the good people of Lorient a riot would doubtless +result, therefore it was not possible to give any performance before +we reached Lorient--and the admission was only ten sous. + +Our clown then picked up the tatters of his threadbare comic speech. +Speed, munching a stale sandwich, came strolling over to where I stood +sponging out my horse's mouth with cool water. + +"We'll ride into Paradise in full regalia, I suppose," he observed, +munching away reflectively; "it's the cheapest réclame." + +I dashed a bucket of water over my horse's legs. "You'd better look +out for your elephant; those drunken Bretons are irritating him," I +said. "Mahouts are born, not made." + +Speed turned; the elephant was squealing and thrusting out a +prehensile trunk among the people. There would be trouble if any fool +gave him tobacco. + +"Hi!" cried Speed, "tobah! Let the mem-log alone! Ai! he's snatched +a coiffe! Drop it, Djebe! C'hast buhan! Don't be afraid, mesdames; the +elephant is not ugly! Chomit oll en ho trankilite!" + +The elephant appeared to understand the mixture of Hindu, French, and +Breton--or perhaps it was the sight of the steel ankus that Speed +flourished in his quality of mahout. The crowd pressed forward again, +reassured by the "Chomit oll en ho trankilite!" + +Speed swallowed the last crumb of his sandwich, wiped his hands on his +handkerchief, and shoved them into his shabby pockets; the ankus +dangled from his wrist. + +We were in seedy circumstances; an endless chain of bad luck had +followed us from Chartres--bad weather, torrents of rain, flooded +roads, damaging delays on railways already overcrowded with troops +and war material, and, above all, we encountered everywhere that +ominous apathy which burdened the whole land, even those provinces +most remote from the seat of war. The blockade of Paris had paralyzed +France. + +The fortune that Byram had made in the previous year was already gone; +we no longer travelled by rail; we no longer slept at inns; we could +barely pay for the food for our animals. + +As for the employés, the list had been cut down below the margin of +safety, yet for a month no salaries had been paid. + +As I stood there in the public square of Quimperlé, passing the +cooling sponge over my horse's nose, old Byram came out of the hotel +on the corner, edged his way through the stolid crowd that surrounded +us gaunt mountebanks, and shuffled up to me. + +"I guess we ain't goin' to push through to-night, Scarlett," he +observed, wiping his sweating forehead on the sleeve of his linen +duster. + +"No, governor, it's too far," I said. + +"We'll be all right, anyway," added Speed; "there's a change in the +moon and this warm weather ought to hold, governor." + +"I dunno," said Byram, with an abstracted glance at the crowd around +the elephant. + +"Cheer up, governor," I said, "we ought at least to pay expenses to +the Spanish frontier. Once out of France we'll find your luck again +for you." + +"Mebbe," he said, almost wearily. + +I glanced at Speed. This was the closest approach to a whine that we +had heard from Byram. But the man had changed within a few days; his +thin hair, brushed across his large, alert ears, was dusty and +unkempt; hollows had formed under his shrewd eyes; his black +broadcloth suit was as soiled as his linen, his boots shabby, his +silk hat suitable only for the stage property of our clown. + +"Don't ride too far," said Byram, as I set foot to stirrup, "them +band-wagon teams is most done up, an' that there camuel gits meaner +every minute." + +I wheeled my horse out into the road to Paradise, cursing the +"camuel," the bane of our wearied caravan. + +"Got enough cash for the license?" asked Byram, uneasily. + +"Plenty, governor; don't worry. Speed, don't let him mope. We'll be +in Lorient this time to-morrow," I called back, with a swagger of +assumed cheerfulness. + +Speed stepped swiftly across the square and laid his hand on my +stirrup. + +"What are you going to do if you see Buckhurst?" + +"Nothing." + +"Or the Countess?" + +"I don't know." + +"I suppose you will go out of your way to find her if she's in +Paradise?" + +"Yes." + +"And tell her the truth about Buckhurst?" + +"I expect to." + +After a moment's silence he said: "Don't do anything until I see you +to-night, will you?" + +"All right," I replied, and set my horse at a gallop over the old +stone bridge. + +The highway to the sea which winds down through acres of yellow gorse +and waving broom to the cliffs of Paradise is a breezy road, swept by +the sweet winds that blow across Brittany from the Côte d'Or to the +Pyrenees. + +It is a land of sea-winds; and when in the still noontide of midsummer +the winds are at play far out at sea, their traces remain in the +furrowed wheat, in the incline of solitary trees, in the breezy trend +of the cliff-clover and the blackthorn and the league-wide sweep of +the moorlands. + +And through this land whose inland perfume always savored the unseen +sea I rode down to Paradise. + +It was not until I had galloped through the golden forest of Kerselec +that I came in sight of the ocean, although among the sunbeams and the +dropping showers of yellow beech-leaves I fancied I could hear the +sound of the surf. + +And now I rode slowly, in full sight of the sea where it lay, an +immense gray band across the world, touching a looming horizon, and in +throat and nostril the salt stung sweetly, and the whole world seemed +younger for the breath of the sea. + +From the purple mystery of the horizon to the landward cliffs the +ocean appeared motionless; it was only when I had advanced almost to +the cliffs that I saw the movement of waves--that I perceived the +contrast between inland inertia and the restless repose of the sea, +stirring ceaselessly since creation. + +The same little sparkling river I had crossed in Quimperlé I now saw +again, spreading out a wide, flat current which broke into waves where +it tumbled seaward across the bar; I heard the white-winged gulls +mewing, the thunderous monotone of the surf, and a bell in some unseen +chapel ringing sweetly. + +I passed a stone house, another; then the white road curved under the +trees and I rode straight into the heart of Paradise, my horse's hoofs +awaking echoes in the silent, stone-paved square. + +Never had I so suddenly entered a place so peaceful, so quiet in the +afternoon sun--yet the silence was not absolute, it was thrilling with +exquisite sound, lost echoes of the river running along its quay of +stone, half-heard harmonies of the ocean where white surf seethed over +the sands beyond the headland. + +There was a fountain, too, dripping melodiously under the trees; I +heard the breathless humming of a spinning-wheel from one of the low +houses of gray stone which enclosed the square, and a young girl +singing, and the drone of bees in a bed of resida. + +So this was Paradise! Truly the name did not seem amiss here, under +the still vault of blue above; Paradise means peace to so many of +us--surcease of care and sound and the brazen trample of nations--not +the quiet of palace corridors or the tremendous silence of a +cathedral, but the noiselessness of pleasant sounds, moving shadows of +trees, wordless quietude, simplicity. + +A young girl with a face like the Madonna stole across the square in +her felt shoes. + +"Can you tell me where the mayor lives?" I asked, looking down at her +from my horse. + +She raised her white-coiffed head with an innocent smile: "Eman' barz +ar sal o leina." + +"Don't you speak French?" I asked, appalled. + +"Ho! ia; oui, monsieur, s'il faut bien. The mayor is at breakfast in +his kitchen yonder." + +"Thank you, my child." + +I turned my horse across the shady square to a stone house banked up +with bed on bed of scarlet geraniums. The windows were open; a fat man +with very small eyes sat inside eating an omelet. + +He watched me dismount without apparent curiosity, and when I had tied +my horse and walked in at the open door he looked at me over the rim +of a glass of cider, and slowly finished his draught without blinking. +Then he said, "Bonjour." + +I told him that I wanted a license for the circus to camp for one +night; that I also desired permission to pitch camp somewhere in the +vicinity. He made out the license, stamped it, handed it to me, and I +paid him the usual fee. + +"I've heard of circuses," he said; "they're like those shows at +country fairs, I suppose." + +"Yes--in a way. We have animals." + +"What kind?" + +"Lions, tigers--" + +"I've seen them." + +"--a camel, an elephant--" + +"Alive?" + +"Certainly." + +"Ma doué!" he said, with slow emotion, "have you a live elephant?" + +I admitted that fact. + +Presently I said, "I hope the people of Paradise will come to the +circus when we get to Lorient." + +"Eh? Not they," said the mayor, wagging his head. "Do you think we +have any money here in Paradise? And then," he added, cunningly, "we +can all see your elephant when your company arrives. Why should we pay +to see him again? War does not make millionaires out of the poor." + +I looked miserably around. It was quite true that people like these +had no money to spend on strolling players. But we had to live +somehow, and our animals could not exist on air, even well-salted +air. + +"How much will it cost to have your town-crier announce the coming of +the circus?" I inquired. + +"That will cost ten sous if he drums and reads the announcement from +here to the château." + +I gave the mayor ten copper pennies. + +"What château?" I asked. + +"Dame, the château, monsieur." + +"Oh," said I, "where the Countess lives?" + +"The Countess? Yes, of course. Who else?" + +"Is the Countess there?" + +"Oui, dame, and others not to my taste." + +I asked no more questions, but the mayor did, and when he found it +might take some time to pump me, he invited me to share his omelet and +cider and afterwards to sit in the sun among his geraniums and satisfy +his curiosity concerning the life of a strolling player. + +I was glad of something to eat. After I had unsaddled my horse and led +him to the mayor's stable and had paid for hay and grain, I returned +to sit in the mayor's garden and sniff longingly at his tobacco smoke +and answer his impertinent questions as good-naturedly as they were +intended. + +But even the mayor of Paradise grew tired of asking questions in time; +the bees droned among the flowers, the low murmur of the sea stole in +on our ears, the river softly lapped the quay. The mayor slept. + +He was fat, very fat; his short, velvet jacket hung heavy with six +rows of enormous silver buttons, his little, round hat was tilted over +his nose. A silver buckle decorated it in front; behind, two little +velvet ribbons fluttered in futile conflict with the rising +sea-breeze. + +Men in embroidered knee-breeches, with bare feet thrust into +straw-filled sabots, sat sunning on the quay under the purple +fig-trees; one ragged fellow in soiled velvet bolero and embossed +leggings lay in the sun, chin on fists, wooden shoes crossed behind +him, watching the water with the eyes of a poacher. + +This mild, balmy November weather, this afterglow of summer which in +my own country we call Indian summer, had started new blossoms among +the climbing tea-roses, lovely orange-tinted blossoms, and some of a +clear lemon color, and their fragrance filled the air. Nowhere do +roses blow as they blow near the sea, nowhere have I breathed such +perfume as I breathed that drowsy afternoon in Paradise, where in +every door-yard thickets of clove-scented pinks carpeted the ground +and tall spikes of snowy phlox glimmered silver-white in the +demi-light. + +Where on earth could a more peaceful scene be found than in this +sea-lulled land, here in the subdued light under aged, spreading oaks, +where moss crept over the pavements and covered the little fountain as +though it had been the stony brink of a limpid forest spring? + +The mayor woke up toward five o'clock and stared at me with owlish +gravity as though daring me to say that he had been asleep. + +"Um--ah--ma fois oui!" he muttered, blowing his nose loudly in a +purple silk bandanna. Then he shrugged his shoulders and added: +"C'est la vie, monsieur. Que voulez-vous?" + +And it was one kind of life after all--a blessed release from the +fever of that fierce farandole which we of the outer world call +"life." + +The mayor scratched his ear, yawned, stretched one leg, then the +other, and glanced at me. + +"Paris still holds out?" he asked, with another yawn. + +"Oh yes," I replied. + +"And the war--is it still going badly for us?" + +"There is always hope," I answered. + +"Hope," he grumbled; "oh yes, we know what hope is--we of the coast +live on it when there's no bread; but hope never yet filled my belly +for me." + +"Has the war touched you here in Paradise?" I asked. + +"Touched us? Ho! Say it has crushed us and I'll strike palms with +you. Why, not a keel has passed out of the port since August. Where is +the fishing-fleet? Where are the sardine sloops that ought to have +sailed from Algiers? Where are the Icelanders?" + +"Well, where are they?" I suggested. + +"Where? Ask the semaphore yonder. Where are our salt schooners for +the Welsh coast? I don't know. They have not sailed, that's all I +know. You do well to come with your circus and your elephant! You can +peddle diamonds in the poor-house, too, if it suits your taste." + +"Have the German cruisers frightened all your craft from the sea?" I +asked, astonished. + +"Yes, partly. Then there's an ugly French cruiser lying off Groix, +yonder, and her black stacks are dribbling smoke all day and all +night. We have orders to keep off and use Lorient when we want a +port." + +"Do you know why the cruiser warns your fishing-boats from this +coast?" I inquired. + +"No," he said, shortly. + +"Do you know the name of the cruiser?" + +"She's a new one, the _Fer-de-Lance_. And if I were not a patriot and +a Breton I'd say: 'May Sainte-Anne rot her where she lies; she's +brought a curse on the coast from Lorient to the Saint-Julien +Light!--and the ghosts of the Icelanders will work her evil yet.'" + +The mayor's round, hairless face was red; he thumped the arm of his +chair with pudgy fists and wagged his head. + +"We have not seen the end of this," he said--"oh no! There's a curse +coming on Paradise--the cruiser brought it, and it's coming. Hé! did a +Bannalec man not hear the were-wolf in Kerselec forest a week since? +Pst! Not a word, monsieur. But old Kloark, of Roscoff, heard it +too--oui dame!--and he knows the howl of the Loup-Garou! Besides, did +I not with my own eyes see a black cormorant fly inland from the sea? +And, by Sainte-Éline of Paradise! the gulls squeal when there's no +storm brewing and the lançons prick the dark with flames along the +coast till you'd swear the witches of Ker-Is were lighting +death-candles from Paradise to Pont-Aven." + +"Do you believe in witches, monsieur the mayor?" I asked, gravely. + +He gave me a shrewd glance. "Not at all--not even in bed and the +light out," he said, with a fat swagger. "_I_ believe in magic? Ho! +foi non! But many do. Oui dame! Many do." + +"Here in Paradise?" + +"Parbleu! Men of parts, too, monsieur. Now there's Terrec, who has +the evil eye--not that I believe it, but, damn him, he'd better not +try any tricks on me! + +"Others stick twigs of aubépine in their pastures; the apothecary is +a man of science, yet every year he makes a bonfire of dried gorse and +drives his cattle through the smoke. It may keep off witches and +lightning--or it may not. I myself do not do such things." + +"Still you believe the cruiser out at sea yonder is going to bring +you evil?" + +"She has brought it. But it's all the same to me. I am mayor, and +exempt, and I have cider and tobacco and boudin for a few months +yet." + +He caressed his little, selfish chin, which hung between his mottled +jowls, peered cunningly at me, and opened his mouth to say something, +but at that moment we both caught sight of a peasant running and +waving a packet of blue papers in the air. "Monsieur the mayor! +Monsieur the mayor!" he called, while still far away. + +"Cré cochon de malheur!" muttered the mayor, turning pale. "He's got +a telegram!" + +The man came clattering across the square in his wooden shoes. + +"A telegram," repeated the mayor, wiping the sudden sweat from his +forehead. "I never get telegrams. I don't want telegrams!" + +He turned to me, almost bursting with suppressed prophecy. + +"It has come--the evil that the black cruiser brings us! You laughed! +Tenez, monsieur; there's your bad luck in these blue morsels of +paper!" + +And he snatched the telegram from the breathless messenger, reading it +with dilating eyes. + +For a long while he sat there studying the telegram, his fat +forefinger following the scrawl, a crease deepening above his +eyebrows, and all the while his lips moved in noiseless repetition of +the words he spelled with difficulty and his labored breathing grew +louder. + +When at length the magistrate had mastered the contents of his +telegram, he looked up with a stupid stare. + +"I want my drummer. Where's the town-crier?" he demanded, as though +dazed. + +"He has gone to Lorient, m'sieu the mayor," ventured the messenger. + +"To get drunk. I remember. Imbecile! Why did he go to-day? Are there +not six other days in this cursed week? Who is there to drum? Nobody. +Nobody knows how in Paradise. Seigneur, Dieu! the ignorance of this +town!" + +"M'sieu the mayor," ventured the messenger, "there's Jacqueline." + +"Ho! Vrai. The Lizard's young one! She can drum, they say. She stole +my drum once. Why did she steal it but to drum upon it?" + +"The little witch can drum them awake in Ker-Is," muttered the +messenger. + +The mayor rose, looked around the square, frowned. Then he raised his +voice in a bellow: "Jacqueline! Jacqueline! _Thou_ Jacqueline!" + +A far voice answered, faintly breaking across the square from the +bridge: "She is on the rocks with her sea-rake!" + +The mayor thrust the blue telegram into his pocket and waddled out of +his garden, across the square, and up the path to the cliffs. + +Uninvited, I went with him. + + + + +X + +THE TOWN-CRIER + + +The bell in the unseen chapel ceased ringing as we came out on the +cliffs of Paradise, where, on the horizon, the sun hung low, belted +with a single ribbon of violet cloud. + +Over acres of foaming shoals the crimson light flickered and spread, +painting the eastern cliffs with sombre fire. The ebb-tide, red as +blood, tumbled seaward across the bar, leaving every ledge a glowing +cinder under the widening conflagration in the west. + +The mayor carried his silver-buttoned jacket over his arm; the air had +grown sultry. As we walked our gigantic shadows strode away before us +across the kindling stubble, seeming to lengthen at every stride. + +Below the cliffs, on a crescent of flat sand, from which sluggish, +rosy rivulets crawled seaward, a man stood looking out across the +water. And the mayor stopped and called down to him: "Ohé, the +Lizard! What do you see on the ocean--you below?" + +"I see six war-ships speeding fast in column," replied the man, +without looking up. + +The mayor hastily shaded his eyes with one fat hand, muttering: "All +poachers have eyes like sea-hawks. There is a smudge of smoke to the +north. Holy Virgin, what eyes the rascal has!" + +As for me, strain my eyes as I would, I saw nothing save the faintest +stain of smoke on the horizon. + +"Hé, Lizard! Are they German, your six war-ships?" bawled the mayor. +His voice had suddenly become tremulous. + +"They are French," replied the poacher, tranquilly. + +"Then Sainte-Éline keep them from the rocks!" sang out the mayor. +"Ohé, Lizard, I want somebody to drum and read a proclamation. +Where's Jacqueline?" + +At that instant a young girl, a mere child, appeared on the beach, +dragging a sea-rake over the ground behind her. She was a lithe +creature, bare-limbed and ragged, with the sea-tan on throat and knee. +The blue tatters of her skirt hung heavy with brine; the creamy skin +on her arms glittered with wet spray, and her hair was wet, too, +clustering across her cheeks in damp elf-locks. + +The mayor glanced at her with that stolid contempt which Finistère +Bretons cherish toward those women who show their hair--an immodesty +unpardonable in the eyes of most Bretons. + +The girl caught sight of the mayor and gave him a laughing greeting +which he returned with a shrug. + +"If you want a town-crier," she called up, in a deliciously fresh +voice, scarcely tinged with the accent, "I'll cry your edicts and +I'll drum for you, too!" + +"Can your daughter beat the drum?" asked the mayor of the poacher, +ignoring the girl's eager face upturned. + +"Yes," said the poacher, indifferently, "and she can also beat the +devil with two sticks." + +The girl threw her rake into a boat and leaped upon the rocks at the +base of the cliff. + +"Jacqueline! Don't come up that way!" bawled the mayor, horrified. +"Hey! Robert! Ohé! Lizard! Stop her or she'll break her neck!" + +The poacher looked up at his daughter then shrugged his shoulders and +squatted down on his ragged haunches, restless eyes searching the +level ocean, as sea-birds search. + +Breathless, hot, and laughing, the girl pulled herself up over the +edge of the cliff. I held out my hand to aid her, but she pushed it +away, crying, "Thank you all the same, but here I am!" + +"Spawn of the Lizard," I heard the mayor mutter to himself, "like a +snake you wriggle where honest folk fall to destruction!" But he spoke +condescendingly to the bright-eyed, breathless child. "I'll pay six +sous if you'll drum for me." + +"I'll do it for love," she said, saucily--"for the love of drumming, +not for your beaux yeux, m'sieu le maire." + +The mayor looked at her angrily, but, probably remembering he was at +her mercy, suppressed his wrath and held out the telegram. "Can you +read that, my child?" + +The girl, still breathing rapidly from her scramble, rested her hands +on her hips and, head on one side, studied the blue sheets of the +telegram over the mayor's outstretched arm. + +"Yes, I can read it. Why not? Can't you?" + +"Read? I the mayor of Paradise!" repeated the outraged magistrate. +"What do you mean, lizard of lizards! gorse cat!" + +"Now if you are going to say such things I won't drum for you," said +the child, glancing at me out of her sea-blue eyes and giving a shake +to her elf-locks. + +"Yes, you will!" bawled the angry mayor. "Shame on your manners, +Jacqueline Garenne! Shame on your hair hanging where all the world can +see it! Shame on your bare legs--" + +"Not at all," said the child, unabashed. "God made my legs, m'sieu +the mayor, and my hair, too. If my coiffe does not cover my hair, +neither does the small Paris hat of the Countess de Vassart cover her +hair. Complain of the Countess to m'sieu the curé, then I will listen +to you." + +The mayor glared at her, but she tossed her head and laughed. + +"Ho fois! Everybody knows what you are," sniffed the mayor--"and +nobody cares, either," he muttered, waddling past me, telegram in +hand. + +The child, quite unconcerned, fell into step beside me, saying, +confidentially: "When I was little I used to cry when they talked to +me like that. But I don't now; I've made up my mind that they are no +better than I." + +"I don't know why anybody should abuse you," I said, loudly enough +for the mayor to hear. But that functionary waddled on, puffing, +muttering, stopping every now and then in the narrow cliff-path to +strike flint to tinder or to refill the tiny bowl of his pipe, which a +dozen puffs always exhausted. + +"Oh, they all abuse us," said the child, serenely. "You see, you are +a stranger and don't understand; but you will if you live here." + +"Why is everybody unkind to you?" I asked, after a moment. + +"Why? Oh, because I am what I am and my father is the Lizard." + +"A poacher?" + +"Ah," she said, looking up at me with delicious malice, "what is a +poacher, monsieur?" + +"Sometimes he's a fine fellow gone wrong," I said, laughing. "So I +don't believe any ill of your father, or of you, either. Will you drum +for me, Jacqueline?" + +"For you, monsieur? Why, yes. What am I to read for you?" + +I gave her a hand-bill; at the first glance her eyes sparkled, the +color deepened under her coat of amber tan; she caught her breath and +read rapidly to the end. + +"Oh, how beautiful," she said, softly. "Am I to read this in the +square?" + +"I will give you a franc to read it, Jacqueline." + +"No, no--only--oh, do let me come in and see the heavenly wonders! +Would you, monsieur? I--I cannot pay--but would--_could_ you let me +come in? I will read your notice, anyway," she added, with a quaver in +her voice. + +The flushed face, the eager, upturned eyes, deep blue as the sea, the +little hands clutching the show-bill, which fairly quivered between +the tanned fingers--all these touched and amused me. The child was mad +with excitement. + +What she anticipated, Heaven only knows. Shabby and tarnished as we +were, the language of our hand-bills made up in gaudiness for the +dingy reality. + +"Come whenever you like, Jacqueline," I said. "Ask for me at the +gate." + +"And who are you, monsieur?" + +"My name is Scarlett." + +"Scarlett," she whispered, as though naming a sacred thing. + +The mayor, who had toddled some distance ahead of us, now halted in +the square, looking back at us through the red evening light. + +"Jacqueline, the drum is in my house. I'll lend you a pair of sabots, +too. Come, hasten little idler!" + +We entered the mayor's garden, where the flowers were glowing in the +lustre of the setting sun. I sat down in a chair; Jacqueline waited, +hands resting on her hips, small, shapely toes restlessly brushing the +grass. + +"Truly this coming wonder-show will be a peep into paradise," she +murmured. "Can all be true--really true as it is printed here in this +bill--I wonder--" + +Before she had time to speculate further, the mayor reappeared with +drum and drum-sticks in one hand and a pair of sabots in the other. He +flung the sabots on the grass, and Jacqueline, quite docile now, +slipped both bare feet into them. + +"You may keep them," said the mayor, puffing out his mottled cheeks +benevolently; "decency must be maintained in Paradise, even if it +beggars me." + +"Thank you," said Jacqueline, sweetly, slinging the drum across her +hip and tightening the cords. She clicked the ebony sticks, touched +the tightly drawn parchment, sounding it with delicate fingers, then +looked up at the mayor for further orders. + +"Go, my child," said the mayor, amiably, and Jacqueline marched +through the garden out into the square by the fountain, drum-sticks +clutched in one tanned fist, the scrolls of paper in the other. + +In the centre of the square she stood a moment, looking around, then +raised the drum-sticks; there came a click, a flash of metal, and the +quiet square echoed with the startling outcrash. Back from roof and +wall bounded the echoes; the stony pavement rang with the racket. +Already a knot of people had gathered around her; others came swiftly +to windows and doorsteps; the loungers left their stone benches by the +river, the maids of Paradise flocked from the bridge. Even Robert the +Lizard drew in his dripping line to listen. The drum-roll ceased. + +"_Attention! Men of Finistère!_ By order of the governor of Lorient, +all men between the ages of twenty and forty, otherwise not exempt, +are ordered to report at the navy-yard barracks, war-port of Lorient, +on the 5th of November of the present year, to join the army of the +Loire. + +"Whosoever is absent at roll-call will be liable to the punishment +provided for such delinquents under the laws governing the state of +siege now declared in Morbihan and Finistère. _Citizens, to arms!_ + +"The enemy is on the march! Though Metz has fallen through treachery, +Paris holds firm! Let the provinces rise and hurl the invader from the +soil of the mother-land! + +"_Bretons!_ France calls! Answer with your ancient battle-cry, +'Sainte-Anne! Sainte-Anne!' The eyes of the world are on Armorica! _To +arms!_" + +The girl's voice ceased; a dead silence reigned in the square. The men +looked at one another stupidly; a woman began to whimper. + +"The curse is on Paradise!" cried a hoarse voice. + +The drummer was already drawing another paper from her ragged pocket, +and again in the same clear, emotionless voice, but slightly drawling +her words, she read: + +"To the good people of Paradise! The manager of the famous American +travelling circus, lately returned from a tour of the northern +provinces, with camels, elephants, lions, and a magnificent company of +artists, announces a stupendous exhibition to be held in Lorient at +greatly reduced prices, thus enabling the intelligent and appreciative +people of Paradise to honor the Republican Circus, recently known as +the Imperial Circus, with their benevolent and discerning patronage! +Long live France! Long live the Republic! Long live the Circus!" + +A resounding roll of the drum ended the announcements; the girl slung +the drum over her shoulder, turned to the right, and passed over the +stone bridge, sabots clicking. Presently from the hamlet of Alincourt +over the stream came the dull roll of the drum again and the faint, +clear voice: + +"Attention! Men of Finistère! By order of the governor of Lorient, +all men--" The wind changed and her voice died away among the trees. + +The maids of Paradise were weeping now by the fountain; the men +gathered near, and their slow, hushed voices scarcely rose above the +ripple of the stream where Robert the Lizard fished in silence. + +It was after sunset before Jacqueline finished her rounds. She had +read her proclamation in Alincourt hamlet, she had read it in +Sainte-Ysole, her drum had aroused the inert loungers on the +breakwater at Trinité-on-Sea. Now, with her drum on her shoulder and +her sabots swinging in her left hand, she came down the cliffs beside +the Chapel of Our Lady of Paradise, excited and expectant. + +Of the first proclamation which she had read she apparently understood +little. When she announced the great disaster at Metz in the north, +and when her passionless young voice proclaimed the levée en +masse--the call to arms for the men of the coast from Sainte-Ysole to +Trinité Beacon--she scarcely seemed to realize what it meant, although +all around her women turned away sobbing, or clung, deathly white, to +sons and husbands. + +But there was certainly something in the other proclamation which +thrilled her and set her heart galloping as she loitered on the +cliff. + +I walked across to the Quimperlé road and met her, dancing along with +her drum; and she promptly confided her longings and desires to me as +we stood together for an instant on the high-road. The circus! Once, +it appeared, she had seen--very far off--a glittering creature turning +on a trapeze. It was at the fair near Bannalec, and it was so long ago +that she scarcely remembered anything except that somebody had pulled +her away while she stood enchanted, and the flashing light of +fairyland had been forever shut from her eyes. + +At times, when the maids of Paradise were sociable at the well in the +square, she had listened to stories of the splendid circus which came +once to Lorient. And now it was coming again! + +We stood in the middle of the high-road looking through the dust haze, +she doubtless dreaming of the splendors to come, I very, very tired. +The curtain of golden dust reddened in the west; the afterglow lit up +the sky once more with brilliant little clouds suspended from +mid-zenith. The moorland wind rose and tossed her elf-locks in her +eyes and whipped her skirt till the rags fluttered above her smooth, +bare knees. + +Suddenly, straight out of the flaming gates of the sunset, the miracle +was wrought. Celestial shapes in gold and purple rose up in the gilded +dust, chariots of silver, milk-white horses plumed with fire. + +Breathless, she shrank back among the weeds, one hand pressed to her +throbbing throat. But the vision grew as she stared; there was +heavenly music, too, and the clank of metal chains, and the smothered +pounding of hoofs. Then she caught sight of something through the dust +that filled her with a delicious terror, and she cried out. For there, +uptowering in the haze, came trudging a great, gray creature, a +fearsome, swaying thing in crimson trappings, flapping huge ears. It +shuffled past, swinging a dusty trunk; the sparkling horsemen cantered +by, tin armor blazing in the fading glory; the chariots dragged after, +and the closed dens of beasts rolled behind in single file, followed +by the band-wagon, where Heaven-inspired musicians played frantically +and a white-faced clown balanced his hat on a stick and shrieked. + +So the circus passed into Paradise; and I turned and followed in the +wake of dust, stale odors, and clamorous discord, sick at heart of +wandering over a world I had not found too kind. + +And at my heels stole Jacqueline. + + + + +XI + +IN CAMP + + +We went into camp under the landward glacis of the cliffs, in a field +of clover which was to be ploughed under in a few days. We all were +there except Kelly Eyre, who had gone to telegraph the governor of +Lorient for permission to enter the port with the circus. Another +messenger also left camp on private business for me. + +It was part of my duty to ration the hay for the elephant and the +thrice-accursed camel. The latter had just bitten Mr. Grigg, our +clown--not severely--and Speed and Horan the "Strong Man" were +hobbling the brute as I finished feeding my lions and came up to +assist the others. + +"Watch that darn elephant, too, Mr. Grigg," said Byram, looking up +from a plate of fried ham that Miss Crystal, our "Trapeze Lady," had +just cooked for him over our gypsy fires of driftwood. + +"Look at that elephant! Look at him!" continued Byram, with a trace +of animation lighting up his careworn face--"look at him now chuckin' +hay over his back. Scrape it up, Mr. Scarlett; hay's thirty a ton in +this war-starved country." + +As I started to clean up the precious hay, the elephant gave a curious +grunt and swung his trunk toward me. + +"There's somethin' paltry about that elephant," said Byram, in a +complaining voice, rising, with plate of ham in one hand, fork in the +other. "He's gittin' as mean as that crafty camuel. Make him move, +Mr. Speed, or he'll put his foot on the trombone." + +"Hô Djebe! Mâil!" said Speed, sharply. + +The elephant obediently shuffled forward; Byram sat down again, and +wearily cut himself a bit of fried ham; and presently we were all +sitting around the long camp-table in the glare of two smoky petroleum +torches, eating our bread and ham and potatoes and drinking Breton +cider, a jug of which Mr. Horan had purchased for a few coppers. + +Some among us were too tired to eat, many too tired for conversation, +yet, from habit we fell into small talk concerning the circus, the +animals, the prospects of better days. + +The ladies of the company, whatever quarrels they indulged in among +themselves, stood loyally by Byram in his anxiety and need. Miss +Crystal and Miss Delany displayed edifying optimism; Mrs. Horan +refrained from nagging; Mrs. Grigg, a pretty little creature, who was +one of the best equestriennes I ever saw, declared that we were living +too well and that a little dieting wouldn't hurt anybody. + +McCadger, our band-master, came over from the other fire to say that +the men had finished grooming the horses, and would I inspect the +picket-line, as Kelly Eyre was still absent. + +When I returned, the ladies had retired to their blankets under their +shelter-tent; poor little Grigg lay asleep at the table, his tired, +ugly head resting among the unwashed tin plates; Speed sprawled in his +chair, smoking a short pipe; Byram sat all hunched up, his head sunk, +eyes vacantly following the movements of two men who were washing +dishes in the flickering torch-light. + +He looked up at me, saying: "I guess Mr. Speed is right. Them lions +o' yourn is fed too much horse-meat. Overeatin' is overheatin'; we've +got to give 'em beef or they'll be clawin' you. Yes, sir, they're all +het up. Hear 'em growl!" + +"That's a fable, governor," I said, smiling and dropping into a +chair. "I've heard that theory before, but it isn't true." + +"The trouble with your lions is that you play with them too much and +they're losing respect for you," said Speed, drowsily. + +"The trouble with my lions," said I, "is that they were born in +captivity. Give me a wild lion, caught on his native heath, and I'll +know what to expect from him when I tame him. But no man on earth can +tell what a lion born in captivity will do." + +The hard cider had cheered Byram a little; he drew a cherished cigar +from his vest-pocket, offered it to me, and when I considerately +refused, he carefully set it alight with a splinter from the fire. Its +odor was indescribable. + +"Luck's a curious phenomena, ain't it, Mr. Scarlett?" he said. + +I agreed with him. + +"Luck," continued Byram, waving his cigar toward the four quarters of +the globe, "is the rich man's slave an' the poor man's tyrant. It's +also a see-saw. When the devil plays in luck the cherubim git +spanked--or words to that effec'--not meanin' no profanity." + +"It's about like that, governor," admitted Speed, lazily. + +Byram leaned back and sucked meditatively at his cigar. The new moon +was just rising over the elephant's hindquarters, and the poetry of +the incident appeared to move the manager profoundly. He turned and +surveyed the dim bivouac, the two silent tents, the monstrous, +shadowy bulk of the elephant, rocking monotonously against the sky. +"Kind of Silurian an' solemn, ain't it," he murmured, "the moon +shinin' onto the rump of that primeval pachyderm. It's like the dark +ages of the behemoth an' the cony. I tell you, gentlemen, when them +fearsome an' gigantic mamuels was aboundin' in the dawn of creation, +the public missed the greatest show on earth--by a few million +years!" + +We nodded sleepily but gravely. + +Byram appeared to have recovered something of his buoyancy and native +optimism. + +"Gentlemen," he said, "let's kinder saunter over to the inn and have +a night-cap with Kelly Eyre." + +This unusual and expensive suggestion startled us wide awake, but we +were only too glad to acquiesce in anything which tended to raise his +spirits or ours. Dog tired but smiling we rose; Byram, in his +shirt-sleeves and suspenders, wearing his silk hat on the back of his +head, led the way, fanning his perspiring face with a red-and-yellow +bandanna. + +"Luck," said Byram, waving his cigar toward the new moon, "is bound +to turn one way or t'other--like my camuel. Sometimes, resemblin' the +camuel, luck will turn on you. Look out it don't bite you. I once made +up a piece about luck: + + "'Don't buck + Bad luck + Or you'll get stuck--' + +I disremember the rest, but it went on to say a few other words to +that effec'." + +The lighted door of the inn hung ajar as we crossed the star-lit +square; Byram entered and stood a moment in the doorway, stroking his +chin. "Bong joor the company!" he said, lifting his battered hat. + +The few Bretons in the wine-room returned his civility; he glanced +about and his eye fell on Kelly Eyre, Speed's assistant balloonist, +seated by the window with Horan. + +"Well, gents," said Byram, hopefully, "an' what aire the prospects +of smilin' fortune when rosy-fingered dawn has came again to kiss us +back to life?" + +"Rotten," said Eyre, pushing a telegram across the oak table. + +Byram's face fell; he picked up the telegram and fumbled in his coat +for his spectacles with unsteady hand. + +"Let me read it, governor," said Speed, and took the blue paper from +Byram's unresisting, stubby fingers. + +"O-ho!" he muttered, scanning the message; "well--well, it's not so +bad as all that--" He turned abruptly on Kelly Eyre--"What the devil +are you scaring the governor for?" + +"Well, he's got to be told--I didn't mean to worry him," said Eyre, +stammering, ashamed of his thoughtlessness. + +"Now see here, governor," said Speed, "let's all have a drink first. +Hé ma belle!"--to the big Breton girl knitting in the corner--"four +little swallows of eau-de-vie, if you please! Ah, thank you, I knew +you were from Bannalec, where all the girls are as clever as they are +pretty! Come, governor, touch glasses! There is no circus but the +circus, and Byram is it's prophet! Drink, gentlemen!" + +But his forced gayety was ominous; we scarcely tasted the liqueur. +Byram wiped his brow and squared his bent shoulders. Speed, elbows on +the table, sat musing and twirling his half-empty glass. + +"Well, sir?" said Byram, in a low voice. + +"Well, governor? Oh--er--the telegram?" asked Speed, like a man +fighting for time. + +"Yes, the telegram," said Byram, patiently. + +"Well, you see they have just heard of the terrible smash-up in the +north, governor. Metz has surrendered with Bazaine's entire army. And +they're naturally frightened at Lorient.... And I rather fear that the +Germans are on their way toward the coast.... And ... well ... they +won't let us pass the Lorient fortifications." + +"Won't let us in?" cried Byram, hoarsely. + +"I'm afraid not, governor." + +Byram stared at us. We had counted on Lorient to pull us through as +far as the frontier. + +"Now don't take it so hard, governor," said Kelly Eyre; "I was +frightened myself, at first, but I'm ashamed of it now. We'll pull +through, anyhow." + +"Certainly," said Speed, cheerily, "we'll just lay up here for a few +days and economize. Why can't we try one performance here, Scarlett?" + +"We can," said I. "We'll drum up the whole district from Pontivy to +Auray and from Penmarch Point to Plouharnel! Why should the Breton +peasantry not come? Don't they walk miles to the Pardons?" + +A gray pallor settled on Byram's sunken face; with it came a certain +dignity which sorrow sometimes brings even to men like him. + +"Young gentlemen," he said, "I'm obliged to you. These here reverses +come to everybody, I guess. The Lord knows best; but if He'll just +lemme run my show a leetle longer, I'll pay my debts an' say, 'Thy +will be done, amen!'" + +"We all must learn to say that, anyway," said Speed. + +"Mebbe," muttered Byram, "but I must pay my debts." + +After a painful silence he rose, steadying himself with his hand on +Eyre's broad shoulder, and shambled out across the square, muttering +something about his elephant and his camuel. + +Speed paid the insignificant bill, emptied his glass, and nodded at +me. + +"It's all up," he said, soberly. + +"Let's come back to camp and talk it over," I said. + +Together we traversed the square under the stars, and entered the +field of clover. In the dim, smoky camp all lights were out except one +oil-drenched torch stuck in the ground between the two tents. Byram +had gone to rest, so had Kelly Eyre. But my lions were awake, moving +noiselessly to and fro, eyes shining in the dusk; and the elephant, a +shapeless pile of shadow against the sky, stood watching us with +little, evil eyes. + +Speed had some cigarettes, and he laid the pink package on the table. +I lighted one when he did. + +"Do you really think there's a chance?" he asked, presently. + +"I don't know," I said. + +"Well, we can try." + +"Oh yes." + +Speed dropped his elbows on the table. "Poor old governor," he said. + +Then he began to talk of our own prospects, which were certainly +obscure if not alarming; but he soon gave up speculation as futile, +and grew reminiscent, recalling our first acquaintance as discharged +soldiers from the African battalions, our hand-to-mouth existence as +gentlemen farmers in Algiers, our bankruptcy and desperate struggle in +Marseilles, first as dock-workmen, then as government horse-buyers for +the cavalry, then as employés of the Hippodrome in Paris, where I +finally settled down as bareback rider, lion-tamer, and instructor in +the haute-école; and he accepted a salary as aid to Monsieur Gaston +Tissandier, the scientist, who was experimenting with balloons at +Saint-Cloud. + +He spoke, too, of our enlistment in the Imperial Police, and the hopes +we had of advancement, which not only brought no response from me, but +left us both brooding sullenly on our wrongs, crouched there over the +rough camp-table under the stars. + +"Oh, hell!" muttered Speed, "I'm going to bed." + +But he did not move. Presently he said, "How did you ever come to +handle wild animals?" + +"I've always been fond of animals; I broke colts at home; I had bear +cubs and other things. Then, in Algiers, the regiment caught a couple +of lions and kept them in a cage, and--well, I found I could do what I +liked with them." + +"They're afraid of your eyes, aren't they?" + +"I don't know--perhaps it's that; I can't explain it--or, rather, I +could partly explain it by saying that I am not afraid of them. But I +never trust them." + +"You drag them all around the cage! You shove them about like sacks +of meal!" + +"Yes,... but I don't trust them." + +"It seems to me," said Speed, "that your lions are getting rather +impudent these days. They're not very much afraid of you now." + +"Nor I of them," I said, wearily; "I'm much more anxious about you +when you go sailing about in that patched balloon of yours. Are you +never nervous?" + +"Nervous? When?" + +"When you're up there?" + +"Rubbish." + +"Suppose the patches give way?" + +"I never think of that," he said, leaning on the table with a yawn. +"Oh, Lord, how tired I am!... but I shall not be able to sleep. I'm +actually too tired to sleep. Have you got a pack of cards, Scarlett? +or a decent cigar, or a glass of anything, or anything to show me +more amusing than that nightmare of an elephant? Oh, I'm sick of the +whole business--sick! sick! The stench of the tan-bark never leaves my +nostrils except when the odor of fried ham or of that devilish camel +replaces it. + +"I'm too old to enjoy a gypsy drama when it's acted by myself; I'm +tired of trudging through the world with my entire estate in my +pocket. I want a home, Scarlett. Lord, how I envy people with homes!" + +He had been indulging in this outburst with his back partly turned +toward me. I did not say anything, and, after a moment, he looked at +me over his shoulder to see how I took it. + +"I'd like to have a home, too," I said. + +"I suppose homes are not meant for men like you and me," he said. +"Lord, how I would appreciate one, though--anything with a bit of +grass in the yard and a shovelful of dirt--enough to grow some damn +flower, you know.... Did you smell the posies in the square +to-night?... Something of that kind,... anything, Scarlett--anything +that can be called a home!... But you can't understand." + +"Oh yes, I can," I said. + +He went on muttering, half to himself: "We're of the same +breed--pariahs; fortunately, pariahs don't last long,... like the wild +creatures who never die natural deaths,... old age is one of the +curses they can safely discount,... and so can we, Scarlett, so can +we.... For you'll be mauled by a lion or kicked into glory by a horse +or an ox or an ass,... and I'll fall off a balloon,... or the camel +will give me tetanus, or the elephant will get me in one way or +another,... or something...." + +Again he twisted around to look at me. "Funny, isn't it?" + +"Rather funny," I said, listlessly. + +He leaned over, pulled another cigarette from the pink packet, broke a +match from the card, and lighted it. + +"I feel better," he observed. + +I expressed sleepy gratification. + +"Oh yes, I'm much better. This isn't a bad life, is it?" + +"Oh no!" I said, sarcastically. + +"No, it's all right, and we've got to pull the poor old governor +through and give a jolly good show here and start the whole country +toward the tent door! Eh?" + +"Certainly. Don't let me detain you." + +"I'll tell you what," he said, "if we only had that poor little +girl, Miss Claridge, we'd catch these Bretons. That's what took the +coast-folk all over Europe, so Grigg says." + +Miss Claridge had performed in a large glass tank as the "Leaping +Mermaid." It took like wildfire according to our fellow-performers. We +had never seen her; she was killed by diving into her tank when the +circus was at Antwerp in April. + +"Can't we get up something like that?" I suggested, hopelessly. + +"Who would do it? Miss Claridge's fish-tights are in the prop-box; +who's to wear them?" + +He began to say something else, but stopped suddenly, eyes fixed. We +were seated nearly opposite each other, and I turned around, following +the direction of his eyes. + +Jacqueline stood behind me in the smoky light of the torch--Jacqueline, +bare of arm and knee, with her sea-blue eyes very wide and the witch-locks +clustering around the dim oval of her face. After a moment's absolute +silence she said: "I came from Paradise. Don't you remember?" + +"From Paradise?" said Speed, smiling; "I thought it might be from +elf-land." + +And I said: "Of course I remember you, Jacqueline. And I have an idea +you ought to be in bed." + +There was another silence. + +"Won't you sit down?" asked Speed. + +"Thank you," said Jacqueline, gravely. + +She seated herself on a sack of sawdust, clasping her slender hands +between her knees, and looked earnestly at the elephant. + +"He won't harm you," I assured her. + +"If you think I am afraid of _that_," she said, "you are mistaken, +Monsieur Scarlett." + +"I don't think you are afraid of anything," observed Speed, smiling; +"but I know you are capable of astonishment." + +"How do you know that?" demanded the girl. + +"Because I saw you with your drum on the high-road when we came past +Paradise. Your eyes were similar to saucers, and your mouth was not +closed, Mademoiselle Jacqueline." + +"Oh--pour ça--yes, I was astonished," she said. Then, with a quick, +upward glance: "Were you riding, in armor, on a horse?" + +"No," said Speed; "I was on that elephant's head." + +This appeared to make a certain impression on Jacqueline. She became +shyer of speech for a while, until he asked her, jestingly, why she +did not join the circus. + +"It is what I wish," she said, under her breath. + +"And ride white horses?" + +"Will you take me?" she cried, passionately, springing to her feet. + +Amazed at her earnestness, I tried to explain that such an idea was +out of the question. She listened anxiously at first, then her eyes +fell and she stood there in the torch-light, head hanging. + +"Don't you know," said Speed, kindly, "that it takes years of +practice to do what circus people do? And the life is not gay, +Jacqueline; it is hard for all of us. We know what hunger means; we +know sickness and want and cold. Believe me, you are happier in +Paradise than we are in the circus." + +"It may be," she said, quietly. + +"Of course it is," he insisted. + +"But," she flashed out, "I would rather be unhappy in the circus +than happy in Paradise!" + +He protested, smiling, but she would have her way. + +"I once saw a man, in spangles, turning, turning, and ever turning +upon a rod. He was very far away, and that was very long ago--at the +fair in Bannalec. But I have not forgotten! No, monsieur! In our +net-shed I also have fixed a bar of wood, and on it I turn, turn +continually. I am not ignorant of twisting. I can place my legs over +my neck and cross my feet under my chin. Also I can stand on both +hands, and I can throw scores of handsprings--which I do every morning +upon the beach--I, Jacqueline!" + +She was excited; she stretched out both bare arms as though preparing +to demonstrate her ability then and there. + +"I should like to see a circus," she said. "Then I should know what +to do. That I can swing higher than any girl in Paradise has been +demonstrated often," she went on, earnestly. "I can swim farther, I +can dive deeper, I can run faster, with bare feet or with sabots, than +anybody, man or woman, from the Beacon to Our Lady's Chapel! At bowls +the men will not allow me because I have beaten them all, monsieur, +even the mayor, which he never forgave. As for the farandole, I tire +last of all--and it is the biniou who cries out for mercy!" + +She laughed and pushed back her hair, standing straight up in the +yellow radiance like a moor-sprite. There was something almost +unearthly in her lithe young body and fearless sea-blue eyes, +sparkling from the shock of curls. + +"So you can dive and swim?" asked Speed, with a glance at me. + +"Like the salmon in the Läita, monsieur." + +"Under water?" + +"Parbleu!" + +After a pause I asked her age. + +"Fifteen, M'sieu Scarlett." + +"You don't look thirteen, Jacqueline." + +"I think I should grow faster if we were not so poor," she said, +innocently. + +"You mean that you don't get enough to eat?" + +"Not always, m'sieu. But that is so with everybody except the +wealthy." + +"Suppose we try her," said Speed, after a silence. "You and I can +scrape up a little money for her if worst comes to worst." + +"How about her father?" + +"You can see him. What is he?" + +"A poacher, I understand." + +"Oh, then it's easy enough. Give him a few francs. He'll take the +child's salary, anyway, if this thing turns out well." + +"Jacqueline," I said, "we can't afford to pay you much money, you +know." + +"Money?" repeated the child, vacantly. "_Money!_ If I had my arms +full--so!--I would throw it into the world--so!"--she glanced at +Speed--"reserving enough for a new skirt, monsieur, of which I stand +in some necessity." + +The quaint seriousness, the resolute fearlessness of this little maid +of Paradise touched us both, I think, as she stood there restlessly, +balancing on her slim bare feet, finger-tips poised on her hips. + +"Won't you take me?" she asked, sweetly. + +"I'll tell you what I'll do, Jacqueline," said I. "Very early in the +morning I'll go down to your house and see your father. Then, if he +makes no objection, I'll get you to put on a pretty swimming-suit, all +made out of silver scales, and you can show me, there in the sea, how +you can dive and swim and play at mermaid. Does that please you?" + +She looked earnestly at me, then at Speed. + +"Is it a promise?" she asked, in a quivering voice. + +"Yes, Jacqueline." + +"Then I thank you, M'sieu Scarlett,... and you, m'sieur, who ride the +elephant so splendidly.... And I will be waiting for you when you +come.... We live in the house below the Saint-Julien Light.... My +father is pilot of the port.... Anybody will tell you." ... + +"I will not forget," said I. + +She bade us good-night very prettily, stepped back out of the circle +of torch-light, and vanished--there is no other word for it. + +"Gracious," said Speed, "wasn't that rather sudden? Or is that the +child yonder? No, it's a bush. Well, Scarlett, there's an uncanny +young one for you--no, not uncanny, but a spirit in its most delicate +sense. I've an idea she's going to find poor Byram's lost luck for +him." + +"Or break her neck," I observed. + +Speed was quiet for a long while. + +"By-the-way," he said, at last, "are you going to tell the Countess +about that fellow Buckhurst?" + +"I sent a note to her before I fed my lions," I replied. + +"Are you going to see her?" + +"If she desires it." + +"Who took the note, Scarlett?" + +"Jacqueline's father,... that Lizard fellow." + +"Well, don't let's stir up Buckhurst now," said Speed. "Let's do +what we can for the governor first." + +"Of course," said I. "And I'm going to bed. Good-night." + +"Good-night," said Speed, thoughtfully. "I'll join you in a +moment." + +When I was ready for bed and stood at the tent door, peering out into +the darkness, I saw Speed curled up on a blanket between the +elephant's forefeet, sound asleep. + + + + +XII + +JACQUELINE + + +The stars were still shining when I awoke in my blanket, lighted a +candle, and stepped into the wooden tub of salt-water outside the +tent. + +I shaved by candle-light, dressed in my worn riding-breeches and +jacket, then, candle in hand, began groping about among the faded bits +of finery and tarnished properties until I found the silver-scaled +swimming-tights once worn by the girl of whom we had heard so much. + +She was very young when she leaped to her death in Antwerp--a slim +slip of a creature, they said--so I thought it likely that her suit +might fit Jacqueline. + +The stars had begun to fade when I stepped out through the dew-soaked +clover, carrying in one hand a satchel containing the swimming-suit, +in the other a gun-case, in which, carefully oiled and doubly cased in +flannel, reposed my only luxury--my breech-loading shot-gun. + +The silence, intensified by the double thunder of the breakers on the +sands, was suddenly pierced by a far cock-crow; vague gray figures +passed across the square as I traversed it; a cow-bell tinkled near +by, and I smelt the fresh-blown wind from the downs. + +Presently, as I turned into the cliff-path, I saw a sober little +Breton cow plodding patiently along ahead; beside her moved a +fresh-faced maid of Paradise in snowy collarette and white-winged +head-dress, knitting as she walked, fair head bent. + +As I passed her she glanced up with tear-dimmed eyes, murmuring the +customary salutation: "Bonjour d'ac'h, m'sieu!" And I replied in the +best patois I could command: "Bonjour d'ec'h a laran, na oeled Ket! +Why do you cry, mademoiselle?" + +"Cry, m'sieu? They are taking the men of Paradise to the war. France +must know how cruel she is to take our men from us." + +We had reached the green crest of the plateau; the girl tethered her +diminutive cow, sat down on a half-imbedded stone, and continued her +knitting, crying softly all the while. + +I asked her to direct me to the house where Robert, the Lizard, lived; +she pointed with her needles to a large stone house looming up in the +gray light, built on the rocks just under the beacon. It was white +with sea-slime and crusted salt, yet heavily and solidly built as a +fort, and doubtless very old, judging from the traces of sculptured +work over portal and windows. + +I had scarcely expected to find the ragged Lizard and more ragged +Jacqueline housed in such an anciently respectable structure, and I +said so to the girl beside me. + +"The house is bare as the bones of Sainte-Anne," she said. "There is +nothing within--not even crumbs enough for the cliff-rats, they say." + +So I went away across the foggy, soaking moorland, carrying my gun and +satchel in their cases, descended the grassy cleft, entered a +cattle-path, and picked my way across the wet, black rocks toward the +abode of the poacher. + +The Lizard was standing on his doorsill when I came up; he returned my +greeting sullenly, his keen eyes of a sea-bird roving over me from +head to foot. A rumpled and sulky yellow cat, evidently just awake, +sat on the doorstep beside him and yawned at intervals. The pair +looked as though they had made a night of it. + +"You took my letter last night?" I asked. + +"Yes." + +"Was there an answer for me?" + +"Yes." + +"Couldn't you have come to the camp and told me?" + +"I could, but I had other matters to concern me," he replied. +"Here's your letter," and he fished it out of his tattered pocket. + +I was angry enough, but I did not wish to anger him at that moment. So +I took the letter and read it--a formal line saying the Countess de +Vassart would expect me at five that afternoon. + +"You are not noted for your courtesy, are you?" I inquired, smiling. + +Something resembling a grin touched his sea-scarred visage. + +"Oh, I knew you'd come for your answer," he said, coolly. + +"Look here, Lizard," I said, "I intend to be friends with you, and I +mean to make you look on me as a friend. It's to my advantage and to +yours." + +"To mine?" he inquired, sneeringly, amused. + +"And this is the first thing I want," I continued; and without +further preface I unfolded our plans concerning Jacqueline. + +"Entendu," he said, drawling the word, "is that all?" + +"Do you consent?" + +"Is that all?" he repeated, with Breton obstinacy. + +"No, not all. I want you to be my messenger in time of need. I want +you to be absolutely faithful to me." + +"Is that all?" he drawled again. + +"Yes, that is all." + +"And what is there in this, to my advantage, m'sieu?" + +"This, for one thing," I said, carelessly, picking up my gun-case. I +slowly drew out the barrels of Damascus, then the rose-wood stock and +fore-end, assembling them lovingly; for it was the finest weapon I had +ever seen, and it was breaking my heart to give it away. + +The poacher's eyes began to glitter as I fitted the double bolts and +locked breech and barrel with the extension rib. Then I snapped on the +fore-end; and there lay the gun in my hands, a fowling-piece fit for +an emperor. + +"Give it?" muttered the poacher, huskily. + +"Take it, my friend the Lizard," I replied, smiling down the wrench +in my heart. + +There was a silence; then the poacher stepped forward, and, looking me +square in the eye, flung out his hand. I struck my open palm smartly +against his, in the Breton fashion; then we clasped hands. + +"You mean honestly by the little one?" + +"Yes," I said; "strike palms by Sainte Thekla of Ycône!" + +We struck palms heavily. + +"She is a child," he said; "there is no vice in her; yet I've seen +them nearly finished at her age in Paris." And he swore terribly as he +said it. + +We dropped hands in silence; then, "Is this gun mine?" he demanded, +hoarsely. + +"Yes." + +"Strike!" he cried; "take my friendship if you want it, on this +condition--what I am is my own concern, not yours. Don't interfere, +m'sieu; it would be useless. I should never betray you, but I might +kill you. Don't interfere. But if you care for the good-will of a man +like me, take it; and when you desire a service from me, tell me, and +I'll not fail you, by Sainte-Éline of Paradise!" + +"Strike palms," said I, gravely; and we struck palms thrice. + +He turned on his heel, kicking off his sabots on the doorsill. "Break +bread with me; I ask it," he said, gruffly, and stalked before me into +the house. + +The room was massive and of noble proportion, but there was scarcely +anything in it--a stained table, a settle, a little pile of rags on +the stone floor--no, not rags, but Jacqueline's clothes!--and there at +the end of the great chamber, built into the wall, was the ancient +Breton bed with its Gothic carving and sliding panels of black oak, +carved like the lattice-work in a chapel screen. + +Outside dawn was breaking through a silver shoal of clouds; already +its slender tentacles of light were probing the shadows behind the +lattice where Jacqueline lay sleeping. + +From the ashes on the hearth a spiral of smoke curled. The yellow cat +walked in and sat down, contemplating the ashes. + +Slowly a saffron light filled the room; Jacqueline awoke in the dim +bed. + +She pushed the panels aside and peered out, her sea-blue eyes heavy +with slumber. + +"Ma doué!" she murmured; "it is M'sieu Scarlett! Aie! Aie! Am I a +countess to sleep so late? Bonjour, m'sieu! Bonjour, pa-pa!" She +caught sight of the yellow cat, "Et bien le bonjour, Ange Pitou!" + +She swathed herself in a blanket and sat up, looking at me sleepily. + +"You came to see me swim," she said. + +"And I've brought you a fish's silver skin to swim in," I replied, +pointing at the satchel. + +She cast a swift glance at her father, who, with the gun on his +knees, sat as though hypnotized by the beauty of its workmanship. Her +bright eyes fell on the gun; she understood in a flash. + +"Then you'll take me?" + +"If you swim as well as I hope you can." + +"Turn your back!" she cried. + +I wheeled about and sat down on the settle beside the poacher. There +came a light thud of small, bare feet on the stone floor, then +silence. The poacher looked up. + +"She's gone to the ocean," he said; "she has the mania for +baths--like you English." And he fell to rubbing the gunstock with +dirty thumb. + +The saffron light in the room was turning pink when Jacqueline +reappeared on the threshold in her ragged skirt and stained velvet +bodice half laced, with the broken points hanging, carrying an armful +of driftwood. + +Without a word she went to work; the driftwood caught fire from the +ashes, flaming up in exquisite colors, now rosy, now delicate green, +now violet; the copper pot, swinging from the crane, began to steam, +then to simmer. + +"Papa!" + +"De quoi!" growled the poacher. + +"Were you out last night?" + +"Dame, I've just come in." + +"Is there anything?" + +The poacher gave me an oblique and evil glance, then coolly answered: +"Three pheasant, two partridges, and a sea-trout in the net-shed. All +are drawn." + +So swiftly she worked that the pink light had scarcely deepened to +crimson when the poacher, laying the gun tenderly in the blankets of +Jacqueline's tumbled bed, came striding back to the table where a +sea-trout smoked on a cracked platter, and a bowl of bread and milk +stood before each place. + +We ate silently. Ange Pitou, the yellow cat, came around with tail +inflated. There were fishbones enough to gratify any cat, and Ange +Pitou made short work of them. + +The poacher bolted his food, sombre eyes brooding or stealing across +the room to the bed where his gun lay. Jacqueline, to my amazement, +ate as daintily as a linnet, yet with a fresh, hearty unconsciousness +that left nothing in her bowl or wooden spoon. + +"Schist?" inquired the poacher, lifting his tired eyes to me. I +nodded. So he brought a jug of cold, sweet cider, and we all drank +long and deeply, each in turn slinging the jug over the crooked +elbow. + +The poacher rose, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and made +straight for his new gun. + +"You two," he said, with a wave of his arm, "you settle it among +yourselves. Jacqueline, is it true that Le Bihan saw woodcock dropping +into the fen last night?" + +"He says so." + +"He is not a liar--usually," observed the poacher. He touched his +beret to me, flung the fowling-piece over his shoulder, picked up a +canvas bag in which I heard cartridges rattling, stepped into his +sabots, and walked away. In a few moments the hysterical yelps of a +dog, pleased at the prospect of a hunt, broke out from the net-shed. + +Jacqueline placed the few dishes in a pan of hot water, wiped her +fingers, daintily, and picked up Ange Pitou, who promptly acknowledged +the courtesy by bursting into a crackling purring. + +"Show me the swimming-suit," she said, shyly. + +I drew it out of the satchel and laid it across my knees. + +"Oh, it has a little tail behind--like a fish!" she cried, enchanted. +"I shall look like the silver grilse of Quimperlé!" + +"Do you think you can swim in those scales?" I asked. + +"Swim? I--Jacqueline? Attendez un peu--you shall see!" + +She laughed an excited, confident little laugh and hugged Ange Pitou, +who closed his eyes in ecstasy sheathing and unsheathing his sharp +claws. + +"It is almost sunrise," I said. + +"It lacks many minutes to sunrise," she replied. "Ask Ange Pitou. At +sunrise he leaves me; nothing can hold him; he does not bite or +scratch, he just pushes and pulls until my arms are tired. Then he +goes. It is always so." + +"Why does he do that?" + +"Ask him. I have often asked, but he never tells me--do you, my +friend? I think he's a moor-sprite--perhaps a devil. Do devils hate +all kinds of water?" + +"No, only holy water," I replied. + +"Well, then, he's something else. Look! Look! He is beginning! See +him push to get free, see him drive his furry head into my hands. The +sun is coming up out of the sea! It will soon be here." + +She opened her arms; the cat sprang to the doorstep and vanished. + +Jacqueline looked at the swimming-suit, then at me. "Will you go down +to the beach, M'sieu Scarlett?" + +But I had not traversed half the strip of rock and hard sand before +something flew past--a slim, glittering shape which suddenly doubled +up, straightened again, and fell headlong into the thundering surf. + +The waves hurled her from crest to crest, clothing her limbs in froth; +the singing foam rolled her over and over, stranding her on bubbling +sands, until the swell found her again, lifted her, and tossed her +seaward into the wide, white arms of the breakers. + +Back to land she drifted and scrambled up on the beach, a slender, +drenched figure, glistening and flashing with every movement. + +Dainty of limb as a cat in wet grass, she shook the spray from her +fingers and scrubbed each palm with sand, then sprang again headlong +into the surf; there was a flash, a spatter, and she vanished. + +After a long, long while, far out on the water she rose, floating. + +Now the red sun, pushing above the ocean's leaden rim, flung its +crimson net across the water. String after string of white-breasted +sea-ducks beat to windward from the cove, whirling out to sea; the +gray gulls flapped low above the shoal and settled in rows along the +outer bar, tossing their sun-tipped wings; the black cormorant on the +cliff craned its hideous neck, scanning the ocean with restless, +brilliant eyes. + +Tossed back once more upon the beach like an opalescent shell, +Jacqueline, ankle-deep in foam, looked out across the flaming waters, +her drenched hair dripping. + +From the gorse on cliff and headland, one by one the larks shot +skyward like amber rockets, trailing a shower of melody till the whole +sky rained song. The crested vanneaux, passing out to sea, responded +plaintively, flapping their bronze-green wings. + +The girl twisted her hair and wrung it till the last salt drop had +fallen. Sitting there in the sands, idle fingers cracking the pods of +gilded sea-weed, she glanced up at me and laughed contentedly. +Presently she rose and walked out to a high ledge, motioning me to +follow. Far below, the sun-lit water shimmered in a shallow basin of +silver sand. + +"Look!" she cried, flinging her arms above her head, and dropped into +space, falling like a star, down, down into the shallow sea. Far below +I saw a streak of living light shoot through the water--on, on, closer +to the surface now, and at last she fairly sprang into the air, +quivering like a gaffed salmon, then fell back to float and clear her +blue eyes from her tangled hair. + +She gave me a glance full of malice as she landed, knowing quite well +that she had not only won, but had given me a shock with her long dive +into scarce three feet of water. + +Presently she climbed to the sun-warmed hillock of sand and sat down +beside me to dry her hair. + +A langouste, in his flaming scarlet coat of mail, passed through a +glassy pool among the rocks, treading sedately on pointed claws; the +lançons tunnelled the oozing beach under her pink feet, like streams +of living quicksilver; the big, blue sea-crabs sidled off the reef, +sheering down sideways into limpid depths. Landward the curlew walked +in twos and threes, swinging their long sickle bills; the sea-swallows +drove by like gray snow-squalls, melting away against the sky; a +vitreous living creature, blazing with purest sapphire light, floated +past under water. + +Ange Pitou, coveting a warm sun-bath in the sand, came wandering along +pretending not to see us; but Jacqueline dragged him into her arms for +a hug, which lasted until Ange Pitou broke loose, tail hoisted but +ears deaf to further flattery. + +So Jacqueline chased Ange Pitou back across the sand and up the rocky +path, pursuing her pet from pillar to post with flying feet that fell +as noiselessly as the velvet pads of Ange Pitou. + +"Come to the net-shed, if you please!" she called back to me, +pointing to a crazy wooden structure built above the house. + +As I entered the net-shed the child was dragging a pile of sea-nets to +the middle of the floor. + +"In case I fall," she said, coolly. + +"Better let me arrange them, then," I said, glancing up at the +improvised trapeze which dangled under the roof-beams. + +She thanked me, seized a long rope, and went up, hand over hand. I +piled the soft nets into a mattress, but decided to stand near, not +liking the arrangements. + +Meanwhile Jacqueline was swinging, head downward, from her trapeze. +Her cheeks flamed as she twisted and wriggled through a complicated +manoeuvre, which ended by landing her seated on the bar of the trapeze +a trifle out of breath. With both hands resting on the ropes, she +started herself swinging, faster, faster, then pretended to drop off +backward, only to catch herself with her heels, substitute heels for +hands, and hang. Doubling back on her own body, she glided to her +perch beneath the roof, shook her damp hair back, set the trapeze +flying, and curled up on the bar, resting as fearlessly and securely +as a bullfinch in a tree-top. + +Above her the red-and-black wasps buzzed and crawled and explored the +sun-scorched beams. Spiders watched her from their silken hammocks, +and the tiny cliff-mice scuttled from beam to beam. Through the open +door the sunshine poured a flood of gold over the floor where the +bronzed nets were spread. Mending was necessary; she mentioned it, and +set herself swinging again, crossing her feet. + +"You think you could drop from there into a tank of water?" I asked. + +"How deep?" + +"Say four feet." + +She nodded, swinging tranquilly. + +"Have you any fear at all, Jacqueline?" + +"No." + +"You would try whatever I asked you to try?" + +"If I thought I could," she replied, naïvely. + +"But that is not it. I am to be your master. You must have absolute +confidence in me and obey orders instantly." + +"Like a soldier?" + +"Exactly." + +"Bien." + +"Then hang by your hands!" + +Quick as a flash she hung above me. + +"You trust me, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes." + +"Then drop!" + +Down she flashed like a falling meteor. I caught her with that quick +trick known to all acrobats, which left her standing on my knee. + +"Jump!" + +She sprang lightly to the heap of nets, lost her balance, stumbled, +and sat down very suddenly. Then she threw back her head and laughed; +peal on peal of deliciously childish laughter rang through the ancient +net-shed, until, overhead, the passing gulls echoed her mirth with +querulous mewing, and the sea-hawk, towering to the zenith, wheeled +and squealed. + + + + +XIII + +FRIENDS + + +At seven o'clock that morning the men in the circus camp awoke, +worried, fatigued, vaguely resentful, unusually profane. Horan was +openly mutinous, and announced his instant departure. + +By eight o'clock a miraculous change had taken place; the camp was +alive with scurrying people, galvanized into hopeful activity by my +possibly unwarranted optimism and a few judiciously veiled threats. + +Clothed with temporary authority by Byram, I took the bit between my +teeth and ordered the instant erection of the main tents, the +construction of the ring, barriers, and benches, and the immediate +renovating of the portable tank in which poor little Miss Claridge had +met her doom. + +I detailed Kelly Eyre to Quimperlé with orders for ten thousand +crimson hand-bills; I sent McCadger, with Dawley, the bass-drummer, +and Irwin, the cornettist, to plaster our posters from Pont Aven to +Belle Isle, and I gave them three days to get back, and promised them +a hundred dollars apiece if they succeeded in sticking our bills on +the fortifications of Lorient and Quimper, with or without +permission. + +I sent Grigg and three exempt Bretons to beat up the country from +Gestel and Rosporden to Pontivy, clear across to Quiberon, and as far +east as St. Gildas Point. + +By the standing-stones of Carnac, I swore that I'd have all Finistère +in that tent. "Governor," said I, "we are going to feature +Jacqueline all over Brittany, and, if the ladies object, it can't be +helped! By-the-way, _do_ they object?" + +The ladies did object, otherwise they would not have been human +ladies; but the battle was sharp and decisive, for I was desperate. + +"It simply amounts to this," I said: "Jacqueline pulls us through or +the governor and I land in jail. As for you, Heaven knows what will +happen to you! Penal settlement, probably." + +And I called Speed and pointed at Jacqueline, sitting on her satchel, +watching the proceedings with amiable curiosity. + +"Speed, take that child and rehearse her. Begin as soon as the tent +is stretched and you can rig the flying trapeze. Use the net, of +course. Horan rehearsed Miss Claridge; he'll stand by. Miss Crystal, +your good-will and advice I depend upon. Will you help me?" + +"With all my heart," said Miss Crystal. + +That impulsive reply broke the sullen deadlock. + +Pretty little Mrs. Grigg went over and shook the child's hand very +cordially and talked broken French to her; Miss Delany volunteered to +give her some "Christian clothes"; Mrs. Horan burst into tears, +complaining that everybody was conspiring to injure her and her +husband, but a few moments later she brought Jacqueline some toast, +tea, and fried eggs, an attention shyly appreciated by the puzzled +child, who never before had made such a stir in the world. + +"Don't stuff her," said Speed, as Mrs. Horan enthusiastically trotted +past bearing more toast. "Here, Scarlett, the ladies are spoiling +her. Can I take her for the first lesson?" + +Byram, who had shambled up, nodded. I was glad to see him reassert his +authority. Speed took the child by the hand, and together they entered +the big white tent, which now loomed up like a mammoth mushroom +against the blue sky. + +"Governor," I said, "we're all a bit demoralized; a few of us are +mutinous. For Heaven's sake, let the men see you are game. This child +has got to win out for us. Don't worry, don't object; back me up and +let me put this thing through." + +The old man shoved his hands into his trousers-pockets and looked at +me with heavy, hopeless eyes. + +"Now here's the sketch for the hand-bill," I said, cheerfully, taking +a pencilled memorandum from my pocket. And I read: + + "THE PATRIOTIC ANTI-PRUSSIAN REPUBLICAN CIRCUS, + MORE STUPENDOUS, MORE GIGANTIC, MORE + OVERPOWERING THAN EVER! + GLITTERING, MARVELLOUS, SOUL-COMPELLING!" + +"What's 'soul-compelling'?" asked Byram. + +"Anything you please, governor," I said, and read on rapidly until I +came to the paragraph concerning Jacqueline: + + "THE WONDER OF EARTH AND HEAVEN! + THE UNUTTERABLY BEAUTIFUL FLYING + MERMAID! CAUGHT ON THE + COAST OF BRITTANY! + WHAT IS SHE? + FISH? BIRD? HUMAN? DIVINE? + WHO KNOWS? + THE SCIENTISTS OF FRANCE DO NOT KNOW!! + THE SCIENTISTS OF THE WORLD + ARE CONFOUNDED! + IS SHE + A LOST SOUL + FROM THE SUNKEN CITY OF KER-YS? + 50,000 FRANCS REWARD FOR THE BRETON WHO CAN + PROVE THAT SHE DID NOT COME STRAIGHT FROM + PARADISE!!!" + +"That's a damn good bill," said Byram, suddenly. + +He was so seldom profane that I stared at him, worried lest his +misfortunes had unbalanced him. But a faint, healthy color was already +replacing the pallor in his loose cheeks, a glint of animation came +into his sunken eyes. He lifted his battered silk hat, replaced it at +an angle almost defiant, and scowled at Horan, who passed us sullenly, +driving the camel tentwards with awful profanity. + +"Don't talk such langwidge in my presence, Mr. Horan," he said, +sharply; "a camuel is a camuel, but remember: 'kind hearts is more +than cornets,' an' it's easier for that there camuel to pass through +the eye of a needle than for a cussin' cuss to cuss his way into +Kingdom Come!" + +Horan, who had betrayed unmistakable symptoms of insubordination that +morning, quailed under the flowing rebuke. He was a man of muscular +strength and meagre intellect; words hit him like trip-hammers. + +"Certainly, governor," he stammered, and spoke to the camel politely, +guiding that enraged and squealing quadruped to his manger with a +forced smile. + +With mallet, hammer, saw, and screw-driver I worked until noon, +maturing my plans all the while. These plans would take the last penny +in the treasury and leave us in debt several thousand francs. But it +was win or go to smash now, and personally I have always preferred a +tremendous smash to a slow and oozy fizzle. + +A big pot of fragrant soup was served to the company at luncheon; and +it amused me to see Jacqueline troop into the tent with the others and +sit down with her bit of bread and her bowl of broth. + +She was flushed and excited, and she talked to her instructor, Speed, +all the while, chattering like a linnet between mouthfuls of bread and +broth. + +"How is she getting on?" I called across to Speed. + +"The child is simply startling," he said, in English. "She is not +afraid of anything. She and Miss Crystal have been doing that +hair-raising 'flying swing' _without rehearsal!_" + +Jacqueline, hearing us talking in English, turned and stared at me, +then smiled and looked up sweetly at Speed. + +"You seem to be popular with your pupil," I said, laughing. + +"She's a fine girl--a fine, fearless, straight-up-and-down girl," he +said, with enthusiasm. + +Everybody appeared to like her, though how much that liking might be +modified if prosperity returned I was unable to judge. + +Now all our fortunes depended on her. She was not a ballon d'essai; +she was literally the whole show; and if she duplicated the +sensational success of poor little Miss Claridge, we had nothing to +fear. But her troubles would then begin. At present, however, we were +waiting for her to pull us out of the hole before we fell upon her and +rent her professionally. And I use that "we" not only professionally, +but with an attempt at chivalry. + +Byram's buoyancy had returned in a measure. He sat in his +shirt-sleeves at the head of the table, vigorously sopping his tartine +in his soup, and, mouth full, leaned forward, chewing and listening to +the conversation around him. + +Everybody knew it was life or death now, that each one must drop petty +jealousies and work for the common salvation. An artificial and almost +feverish animation reigned, which I adroitly fed with alarming +allusions to the rigor of the French law toward foreigners and other +malefactors who ran into debt to French subjects on the sacred soil of +France. And, having lived so long in France and in the French +possessions, I was regarded as an oracle of authority by these +ambulant professional people who were already deadly homesick, and +who, in eighteen months of Europe, had amassed scarcely a dozen French +phrases among them all. + +"I'll say one thing," observed Byram, with dignity; "if ever I git +out of this darn continong with my circus, I'll recooperate in the +undulatin' medders an' j'yful vales of the United States. Hereafter +that country will continue to remain good enough for me." + +All applauded--all except Jacqueline, who looked around in +astonishment at the proceedings, and only smiled when Speed explained +in French. + +"Ask maddermoselle if she'll go home with us?" prompted Byram. "Tell +her there's millions in it." + +Speed put the question; Jacqueline listened gravely, hesitated, then +whispered to Speed, who reddened a trifle and laughed. + +Everybody waited for a moment. "What does she say?" inquired Byram. + +"Oh, nothing; she talked nonsense." + +But Jacqueline's dignity and serene face certainly contradicted +Speed's words. + +Presently Byram arose, flourishing his napkin. "Time's up!" he said, +with decision, and we all trooped off to our appointed labors. + +Now that I had stirred up this beehive and set it swarming again, I +had no inclination to turn drone. Yet I remembered my note to the +Countess de Vassart and her reply. So about four o'clock I made the +best toilet I could in my only other suit of clothes, and walked out +of the bustling camp into the square, where the mossy fountain +splashed under the oaks and the children of Paradise were playing. +Hands joined, they danced in a ring, singing: + + "_Barzig ha barzig a Goneri + Ari e mab roue gand daou pe dri_"-- + + "Little minstrel-bard of Conéri + The son of the King has come with two or three-- + Nay, with a whole bright flock of paroquets, + Crimson, silver, and violet." + +And the children, in their white coiffes and tiny wooden shoes, moved +round and round the circle, in the middle of which a little lad and a +little lass of Paradise stood motionless, hand clasping hand. + +The couplet ended, the two children in the middle sprang forward and +dragged a third child out of the circle. Then the song began again, +the reduced circle dancing around the three children in the middle. + + "--The son of the King has come with two or three-- + Nay, with a whole bright flock of paroquets, + Crimson, silver, and violet." + +It was something like a game I had played long ago--in the age of +fable--and I lingered, touched with homesickness. + +The three children in the middle took a fourth comrade from the +circle, crying, "Will you go to the moon or will you go to the +stars?" + +"The moon," lisped the little maid, and she was led over to the +fountain. + +"The stars," said the first prisoner, and was conducted to the stone +bridge. + +Soon a small company was clustered on the bridge, another band at the +fountain. Then, as there were no more to dance in a circle, the lad +and lassie who had stood in the middle to choose candidates for the +moon and stars clasped hands and danced gayly across the square to the +group of expectant children at the fountain, crying: + + "Baradoz! Baradoz!" + (Paradise! Paradise!) + +and the whole band charged on the little group on the bridge, shouting +and laughing, while the unfortunate tenants of the supposed infernal +regions fled in every direction, screaming: + + "Pater noster + Dibi doub! + Dibi doub! + Dibi doub!" + +Their shouts and laughter still came faintly from the tree-shaded +square as I crossed the bridge and walked out into the moorland toward +the sea, where I could see the sun gilding the headland and the +spouting-rocks of Point Paradise. + +Over the turning tide cormorants were flying, now wheeling like hawks, +now beating seaward in a duck-like flight. I passed little, lonely +pools on the moor, from which snipe rose with a startling squak! +squak! and darted away inland as though tempest blown. + +Presently a blue-gray mass in mid-ocean caught my eye. It was the +island of Groix, and between it and Point Paradise lay an ugly, naked, +black shape, motionless, oozing smoke from two stubby funnels--the +cruiser _Fer-de-Lance_! So solidly inert lay the iron-clad that it did +not seem as if she had ever moved or ever could move; she looked like +an imbedded ledge cropping up out of the sea. + +Far across the hilly moorland the white semaphore glistened like a +gull's wing--too far for me to see the balls and cones hoisted or the +bright signals glimmering along the halyards as I followed a trodden +path winding south through the gorse. Then a dip in the moorland hid +the semaphore and at the same moment brought a house into full +view--a large, solid structure of dark stone, heavily Romanesque, +walled in by an ancient buttressed barrier, above which I could see +the tree-tops of a fruit-garden. + +The Château de Trécourt was a fine example of the so called +"fortified farm"; it had its moat, too, and crumbling wing-walls, +pierced by loop-holes and over-hung with miniature battlements. A +walled and loop-holed passageway connected the house with another +stone enclosure in which stood stable, granary, cattle-house, and +sheepfold, all of stone, though the roofs of these buildings were +either turfed or thatched. And over them the weather-vane, a golden +Dorado, swam in the sunshine. + +One thing I noticed as I crossed the unused moat on a permanent +bridge: the youthful Countess no longer denied herself the services of +servants, for I saw a cloaked shepherd and his two wolf-like and +tailless sheep-dogs watching the flock scattered over the downs; and +there were at least half a dozen farm servants pottering about from +stable to granary, and a toothless porter to answer the gate-bell and +pilot me past the tiny loop-holed lodge-turret to the house. There was +also a man, lying belly down in the bracken, watching me; and as I +walked into the court I tried to remember where I had seen his face +before. + +The entire front of the house was covered with those splendid +orange-tinted tea-roses that I had noticed in Paradise; thicket on +thicket of clove-scented pinks choked the flower-beds; and a broad mat +of deep-tinted pansies lay on the lawn, spread out for all the world +like a glorious Eastern rug. + +There was a soft whirring in the air like the sound of a humming-bird +close by; it came from a spinning-wheel, and grew louder as a servant +admitted me into the house and guided me to a sunny room facing the +fruit garden. + +The spinner at the wheel was singing in an undertone--singing a Breton +"gwerz," centuries old, retained in memory from generation to +generation: + + "Woe to the Maids of Paradise, + Yvonne! + Twice have the Saxons landed; twice! + Yvonne! + Yet must Paradise see them thrice! + Yvonne! Yvonne! Marivonik." + +Old as were the words, the melody was older--so old and quaint and +sweet that it seemed a berceuse fashioned to soothe the drowsing +centuries, lest the memories of ancient wrongs awake and rouse the +very dead from their Gothic tombs. + +All the sad history of the Breton race was written in every minor +note; all the mystery, the gentleness, the faith of the lost people of +Armorica. + +And now the singer was intoning the "Gwerz Ar Baradoz"--the +"Complaint of Paradise"--a slow, thrilling miséréré, scarcely +dominating the velvet whir of the spinning-wheel. + +Suddenly the melody ceased, and a young Bretonne girl appeared in the +doorway, courtesying to me and saying in perfect English: "How do you +do, Mr. Scarlett; and how do you like my spinning songs, if you +please?" + +The girl was Mademoiselle Sylvia Elven, the marvellously clever +actress from the Odéon, the same young woman who had played the +Alsacienne at La Trappe, as perfectly in voice and costume as she now +played the Bretonne. + +"You need not be astonished at all," she said, calmly, "if you will +only reflect that my name is Elven, which is also the name of a Breton +town. Naturally, I am a Bretonne from Elven, and my own name is +Duhamel--Sylvenne Duhamel. I thought I ought to tell you, so that you +would not think me too clever and try to carry me off on your horse +again." + +I laughed uncertainly; clever women who talk cleverly always disturb +me. Besides, somehow, I felt she was not speaking the truth, yet I +could not imagine why she should lie to me. + +"You were more fluent to the helpless turkey-girl," she suggested, +maliciously. + +I had absolutely nothing to say, which appeared to gratify her, for +she dimpled and smiled under her snowy-winged coiffe, from which a +thick gold strand of hair curled on her forehead--a sad bit of +coquetry in a Bretonne from Elven, if she told the truth. + +"I only came to renew an old and deeply valued friendship," she said, +with mock sentimentality; "I am going back to my flax now." + +However, she did not move. + +"And, by-the-way," she said, languidly, "is there in your +intellectual circus company a young gentleman whose name is Eyre?" + +"Kelly Eyre? Yes," I said, sulkily. + +"Ah." + +She strolled out of the room, hesitated, then turned in the doorway +with a charming smile. + +"The Countess will return from her gallop at five." + +She waited as though expecting an answer, but I only bowed. + +"Would you take a message to Mistaire Kelly Eyre for me?" she asked, +sweetly. + +I said that I would. + +"Then please say that: '_On Sunday the book-stores are closed in +Paris._'" + +"Is that what I am to say?" + +"Exactly that." + +"Very well, mademoiselle." + +"Of course, if he asks who told you--you may say that it was a +Bretonne at Point Paradise." + +"Nothing else?" + +"Nothing, monsieur." + +She courtesied and vanished. + +"Little minx," I thought, "what mischief are you preparing now?" and +I rested my elbow on the window-sill and gazed out into the garden, +where apricot-trees and fig-trees lined the winding walks between beds +of old-fashioned herbs, anise, basil, caraway, mint, sage, and +saffron. + +Sunlight lay warm on wall and gravel-path; scarlet apples hung aloft +on a few young trees; a pair of trim, wary magpies explored the +fig-trees, sometimes quarrelling, sometimes making common cause +against the shy wild-birds that twittered everywhere among the vines. + +I fancied, after a few moments, that I heard the distant thudding of a +horse's hoofs; soon I was sure of it, and rose to my feet expectantly, +just as a flushed young girl in a riding-habit entered the room and +gave me her gloved hand. + +Her fresh, breezy beauty astonished me; could this laughing, gray-eyed +girl with her silky, copper-tinted hair be the same slender, grave +young Countess whom I had known in Alsace--this incarnation of all +that is wholesome and sweet and winning in woman? What had become of +her mission and the soiled brethren of the proletariat? What had +happened? + +I looked at her earnestly, scarcely understanding that she was saying +she was glad I had come, that she had waited for me, that she had +wanted to see me, that she had wished to tell me how deeply our tragic +experience at La Trappe and in Morsbronn had impressed her. She said +she had sent a letter to me in Paris which was returned, _opened_, +with a strange note from Monsieur Mornac. She had waited for some +word from me, here in Paradise, since September; "waited +impatiently," she added, and a slight frown bent her straight brows +for a moment--a moment only. + +"But come out to my garden," she said, smiling, and stripping off her +little buff gauntlets. "There we will have tea a l'Anglaise, and +sunshine, and a long, long, satisfying talk; at least I will," she +added, laughing and coloring up; "for truly, Monsieur Scarlett, I do +not believe I have given you one second to open your lips." + +Heaven knows I was perfectly content to watch her lips and listen to +the music of her happy, breathless voice without breaking the spell +with my own. + +She led the way along a path under the apricots to a seat against a +sunny wall, a wall built of massive granite, deeply thatched with +fungus and lichens, where, palpitating in the hot sun, the tiny +lizards lay glittering, and the scarlet-banded nettle-butterflies +flitted and hovered and settled to sun themselves, wings a-droop. + +Here in the sunshine the tea-rose perfume, mingling with the incense +of the sea, mounted to my head like the first flush of wine to a man +long fasting; or was it the enchantment of her youth and +loveliness--the subtle influence of physical vigor and spiritual +innocence on a tired, unstrung man? + +"First of all," she said, impulsively, "I know your life--all of it +in minute particular. Are you astonished?" + +"No, madame," I replied; "Mornac showed you my dossier." + +"That is true," she said, with a troubled look of surprise. + +I smiled. "As for Mornac," I began, but she interrupted me. + +"Ah, Mornac! Do you suppose I believed him? Had I not proof on proof +of your loyalty, your honor, your courtesy, your chivalry--" + +"Madame, your generosity--and, I fear, your pity--overpraises." + +"No, it does not! I know what you are. Mornac cannot make white +black! I know what you have been. Mornac could not read you into +infamy, even with your dossier under my own eyes!" + +"In my dossier you read a sorry history, madame." + +"In your dossier I read the tragedy of a gentleman." + +"Do you know," said I, "that I am now a performer in a third-rate +travelling circus?" + +"I think that is very sad," she said, sweetly. + +"Sad? Oh no. It is better than the disciplinary battalions of +Africa." + +Which was simply acknowledging that I had served a term in prison. + +The color faded in her face. "I thought you were pardoned." + +"I was--from prison, not from the battalion of Biribi." + +"I only know," she said, "that they say you were not guilty; that +they say you faced utter ruin, even the possibility of death, for the +sake of another man whose name even the police--even Monsieur de +Mornac--could never learn. Was there such a man?" + +I hesitated. "Madame, there is such a man; _I_ am the man who +_was_." + +"With no hope?" + +"Hope? With every hope," I said, smiling. "My name is not my own, +but it must serve me to my end, and I shall wear it threadbare and +leave it to no one." + +"Is there no hope?" she asked, quietly. + +"None for the man who _was_. Much for James Scarlett, tamer of lions +and general mountebank," I said, laughing down the rising tide of +bitterness. Why had she stirred those dark waters? I had drowned +myself in them long since. Under them lay the corpse of a man I had +forgotten--my dead self. + +"No hope?" she repeated. + +Suddenly the ghost of all I had lost rose before me with her +words--rose at last after all these years, towering, terrible, free +once more to fill the days with loathing and my nights with hell +eternal,... after all these years! + +Overwhelmed, I fought down the spectre in silence. Kith and kin were +not all in the world; love of woman was not all; a chance for a home, +a wife, children, were not all; a name was not all. Raising my head, a +trifle faint with the struggle and the cost of the struggle, I saw the +distress in her eyes and strove to smile. + +"There is every hope," I said, "save the hopes of youth--the hope of +a woman's love, and of that happiness which comes through love. I am a +man past thirty, madame--thirty-five, I believe my dossier makes it. +It has taken me fifteen years to bury my youth. Let us talk of +Mornac." + +"Yes, we will talk of Mornac," she said, gently. + +So with infinite pains I went back and traced for her the career of +Buckhurst, sparing her nothing; I led up to my own appearance on the +scene, reviewed briefly what we both knew, then disclosed to her in +its most trivial detail the conference between Buckhurst and myself in +which his cynical avowal was revealed in all its native hideousness. + +She sat motionless, her face like cold marble, as I carefully gathered +the threads of the plot and gently twitched that one which galvanized +the mask of Mornac. + +"Mornac!" she stammered, aghast. + +I showed her why Buckhurst desired to come to Paradise; I showed her +why Mornac had initiated her into the mysteries of my dossier, taking +that infernal precaution, although he had every reason to believe he +had me practically in prison, with the keys in his own pocket. + +"Had it not been for my comrade, Speed," I said, "I should be in one +of Mornac's fortress cells. He overshot the mark when he left us +together and stepped into his cabinet to spread my dossier before you. +He counted on an innocent man going through hell itself to prove his +innocence; he counted on me, and left Speed out of his calculations. +He had your testimony, he had my dossier, he had the order for my +arrest in his pocket.... And then I stepped out of sight! I, the +honest fool, with my knowledge of his infamy, of Buckhurst's +complicity and purposes--I was gone. + +"And now mark the irony of the whole thing: he had, criminally, +destroyed the only bureau that could ever have caught me. But he did +his best during the few weeks that were left him before the battle of +Sedan. After that it was too late; it was too late when the first +Uhlan appeared before the gates of Paris. And now Mornac, shorn of +authority, is shut up in a city surrounded by a wall of German steel, +through which not one single living creature has penetrated for two +months." + +I looked at her steadily. "Eliminate Mornac as a trapped rat; cancel +him as a dead rat since the ship of Empire went down at Sedan. I do +not know what has taken place in Paris--save what all now know that +the Empire is ended, the Republic proclaimed, and the Imperial police +a memory. Then let us strike out Mornac and turn to Buckhurst. Madame, +I am here to serve you." + +The dazed horror in her face which had marked my revelations of +Buckhurst's villanies gave place to a mantling flush of pure anger. +Shame crimsoned her neck, too; shame for her credulous innocence, her +belief in this rogue who had betrayed her, only to receive pardon for +the purpose of baser and more murderous betrayal. + +I said nothing for a long time, content to leave her to her own +thoughts. The bitter draught she was draining could not harm her, +could not but act as the most wholesome of tonics. + +Hers was not a weak character to sink, embittered, under the weight of +knowledge--knowledge of evil, that all must learn to carry lightly +through life; I had once thought her weak, but I had revised that +opinion and substituted the words "pure in thought, inherently loyal, +essentially unsuspicious." + +"Tell me about Buckhurst," I said, quietly. "I can help you, I +think." + +The quick tears of humiliation glimmered for a second in her angry +eyes; then pride fell from her, like a stately mantle which a princess +puts aside, tired and content to rest. + +This was a phase I had never before seen--a lovely, natural young +girl, perplexed, troubled, deeply wounded, ready to be guided, ready +for reproof, perhaps even for that sympathy without which reproof is +almost valueless. + +She told me that Buckhurst came to her house here in Paradise early in +September; that while in Paris, pondering on what I had said, she had +determined to withdraw herself absolutely from all organized +socialistic associations during the war; that she believed she could +do the greatest good by living a natural and cheerful life, by +maintaining the position that birth and fortune had given her, and by +using that position and fortune for the benefit of those less +fortunate. + +This she had told Buckhurst, and the rascal appeared to agree with her +so thoroughly that, when Dr. Delmont and Professor Tavernier arrived, +they also applauded the choice she made of Buckhurst as distributer of +money, food, and clothing to the provincial hospitals, now crowded to +suffocation with the wreck of battle. + +Then a strange thing occurred. Dr. Delmont and Professor Tavernier +disappeared without any explanation. They had started for St. Nazaire +with a sum of money--twenty thousand francs, locked in the private +strong-box of the Countess--to be distributed among the soldiers of +Chanzy; and they had never returned. + +In the light of what she had learned from me, she feared that +Buckhurst had won them over; perhaps not--she could not bear to +suspect evil of such men. + +But she now believed that Buckhurst had used every penny he had +handled for his own purposes; that not one hospital had received what +she had sent. + +"I am no longer wealthy," she said, anxiously, looking up at me. "I +did find time in Paris to have matters straightened; I sold La Trappe +and paid everything. It left me with this house in Paradise, and with +means to maintain it and still have a few thousand francs to give +every year. Now it is nearly gone--I don't know where. I am dreadfully +unhappy; I have such a horror of treachery that I cannot even +understand it, but this ignoble man, Buckhurst, is assuredly a +heartless rascal." + +"But," I said, patiently, "you have not yet told me where he is." + +"I don't know," she said. "A week ago a dreadful creature came here +to see Buckhurst; they went across the moor toward the semaphore and +stood for a long while looking at the cruiser which is anchored off +Groix. Then Buckhurst came back and prepared for a journey. He said +he was going to Tours to confer with the Red Cross. I don't know where +he went. He took all the money for the general Red Cross fund." + +"When did he say he would return?" + +"He said in two weeks. He has another week yet." + +"Is he usually prompt?" + +"Always so--to the minute." + +"That is good news," I said, gayly. "But tell me one thing: do you +trust Mademoiselle Elven?" + +"Yes, indeed!--indeed!" she cried, horrified. + +"Very well," said I, smiling. "Only for the sake of caution--extra, +and even perhaps useless caution--say nothing of this matter to her, +nor to any living soul save me." + +"I promise," she said, faintly. + +"One thing more: this conspiracy against the state no longer concerns +me--officially. Both Speed and I did all we could to warn the Emperor +and the Empress; we sent letters through the police in London, we used +the English secret-service to get our letters into the Emperor's hand, +we tried every known method of denouncing Mornac. It was useless; +every letter must have gone through Mornac's hands before it reached +the throne. We did all we dared do; we were in disguise and in hiding +under assumed names; we could not do more. + +"Now that Mornac is not even a pawn in the game--as, indeed, I begin +to believe he never really was, but has been from the first a dupe of +Buckhurst--it is the duty of every honest man to watch Buckhurst and +warn the authorities that he possibly has designs on the crown jewels +of France, which that cruiser yonder is all ready to bear away to +Saïgon. + +"How he proposes to attempt such a robbery I can't imagine. I don't +want to denounce him to General Chanzy or Aurelles de Palladine, +because the conspiracy is too widely spread and too dangerous to be +defeated by the capture of one man, even though he be the head of it. + +"What I want is to entrap the entire band; and that can only be done +by watching Buckhurst, not arresting him. + +"Therefore, madame, I have written and despatched a telegram to +General Aurelles de Palladine, offering my services and the services +of Mr. Speed to the Republic without compensation. In the event of +acceptance, I shall send to London for two men who will do what is to +be done, leaving me free to amuse the public with my lions. Meanwhile, +as long as we stay in Paradise we both are your devoted servants, and +we beg the privilege of serving you." + +During all this time the young Countess had never moved her eyes from +my face--perhaps I was flattered--perhaps for that reason I talked on +and on, pouring out wisdom from a somewhat attenuated supply. + +And I now rose to take my leave, bowing my very best bow; but she sat +still, looking up quietly at me. + +"You ask the privilege of serving me," she said. "You could serve me +best by giving me your friendship." + +"You have my devotion, madame," I said. + +"I did not ask it. I asked your friendship--in all frankness and +equality." + +"Do you desire the friendship of a circus performer?" I asked, +smiling. + +"I desire it, not only for what you are, but for what you have +been--have always been, let them say what they will!" + +I was silent. + +"Have you never given women your friendship?" she asked. + +"Not in fifteen years--nor asked theirs." + +"Will you not ask mine?" + +I tried to speak steadily, but my voice was uncertain; I sat down, +crushed under a flood of memories, hopes accursed, ambitions damned +and consigned to oblivion. + +"You are very kind," I said. "You are the Countess de Vassart. A man +is what he makes himself. I have made myself--with both eyes open; and +I am now an acrobat and a tamer of beasts. I understand your goodness, +your impulse to help those less fortunate than yourself. I also +understand that I have placed myself where I am, and that, having done +so deliberately, I cannot meet as friends and equals those who might +have been my equals if not friends. Besides that, I am a native of a +paradox--a Republic which, though caste-bound, knows no caste abroad. +I might, therefore, have been your friend if you had chosen to waive +the traditions of your continent and accept the traditions of mine. +But now, madame, I must beg permission to make my adieux." + +She sprang up and caught both my hands in her ungloved hands. "Won't +you take my friendship--and give me yours--my friend?" + +"Yes," I said, slowly. The blood beat in my temples, almost blinding +me; my heart hammered in my throat till I shivered. + +As in a dream I bent forward; she abandoned her hands to me; and I +touched a woman's hands with my lips for the first time in fifteen +years. + +"In all devotion and loyalty--and gratitude," I said. + +"And in friendship--say it!" + +"In friendship." + +"Now you may go--if you desire to. When will you come again?" + +"When may I?" + +"When you will." + + + + +XIV + +THE PATH OF THE LIZARD + + +About nine o'clock the next morning an incident occurred which might +have terminated my career in one way, and did, ultimately, end it in +another. + +I had been exercising my lions and putting them through their paces, +and had noticed no unusual insubordination among them, when suddenly, +Timour Melek, a big Algerian lion, flew at me without the slightest +provocation or warning. + +Fortunately I had a training-chair in my hand, on which Timour had +just been sitting, and I had time to thrust it into his face. Thrice +with incredible swiftness he struck the iron-chair, right, left, and +right, as a cat strikes, then seized it in his teeth. At the same +moment I brought my loaded whip heavily across his nose. + +"Down, Timour Melek! Down! down! down!" I said, steadily, +accompanying each word with a blow of the whip across the nose. + +The brute had only hurt himself when he struck the chair, and now, +under the blows raining on his sensitive nose, he doubtless remembered +similar episodes in his early training, and shrank back, nearly +deafening me with his roars. I followed, punishing him, and he fled +towards the low iron grating which separated the training-cage from +the night-quarters. + +This I am now inclined to believe was a mistake of judgment on my +part. I should have driven him into a corner and thoroughly cowed him, +using the training-chair if necessary, and trusting to my two +assistants with their irons, who had already closed up on either side +of the cage. + +I was not in perfect trim that morning. Not that I felt nervous in the +least, nor had I any lack of self-confidence, but I was not myself. I +had never in my life entered a lion-cage feeling as I did that +morning--an indifference which almost amounted to laziness, an apathy +which came close to melancholy. + +The lions knew I was not myself--they had been aware of it as soon as +I set foot in their cage; and I knew it. But my strange apathy only +increased as I went about my business, perfectly aware all the time +that, with lions born in captivity, the unexpected is always to be +expected. + +Timour Melek was now close to the low iron door between the +partitions; the other lions had become unusually excited, bounding at +a heavy gallop around the cage, or clinging to the bars like enormous +cats. + +Then, as I faced Timour, ready to force him backward through the door +into the night-quarters, something in the blank glare of his eyes +seemed to fascinate me. I had an absurd sensation that he was slipping +away from me--escaping; that I no longer dominated him nor had +authority. It was not panic, nor even fear; it was a faint +paralysis--temporary, fortunately; for at that instant instinct saved +me; I struck the lion a terrific blow across the nose and whirled +around, chair uplifted, just in time to receive the charge of Empress +Khatoun, consort of Timour. + +She struck the iron-bound chair, doubling it up like crumpled paper, +hurling me headlong, not to the floor of the cage, but straight +through the sliding-bars which Speed had just flung open with a shout. +As for me, I landed violently on my back in the sawdust, the breath +knocked clean out of me. + +When I could catch my breath again I realized that there was no time +to waste. Speed looked at me angrily, but I jerked open the grating, +flung another chair into the cage, leaped in, and, singling out +Empress Khatoun, I sailed into her with passionless thoroughness, +punishing her to a stand-still, while the other lions, Aicha, +Marghouz, Timour, and Genghis Khan snarled and watched me steadily. + +As I emerged from the cage Speed asked me whether I was hurt, and I +gasped out that I was not. + +"What went wrong?" he persisted. + +"Timour and that young lioness--no, _I_ went wrong; the lions knew it +at once; something failed me, I don't know what; upon my soul, Speed, +I don't know what happened." + +"You lost your nerve?" + +"No, not that. Timour began looking at me in a peculiar way--he +certainly dominated me for an instant--for a tenth of a second; and +then Khatoun flew at me before I could control Timour--" + +I hesitated. + +"Speed, it was one of those seconds that come to us, when the +faintest shadow of indecision settles matters. Engineers are subject +to it at the throttle, pilots at the helm, captains in battle--" + +"Men in love," added Speed. + +I looked at him, not comprehending. + +"By-the-way," said Speed, "Leo Grammont, the greatest lion-tamer who +ever lived, once told me that a man in love with a woman could not +control lions; that when a man falls in love he loses that intangible, +mysterious quality--call it mesmerism or whatever you like--the occult +force that dominates beasts. And he said that the lions knew it, that +they perceived it sometimes even before the man himself was aware +that he was in love." + +I looked him over in astonishment. + +"What's the matter with you?" he asked, amused. + +"What's the matter with _you_?" I demanded. "If you mean to intimate +that I have fallen in love you are certainly an astonishing ass!" + +"Don't talk that way," he said, good-humoredly. "I didn't dream of +such a thing, or of offending you, Scarlett." + +It struck me at the same moment that my irritable and unwarranted +retort was utterly unlike me. + +"I beg your pardon," I said. "I don't know exactly what is the +matter with me to-day. First I quarrel with poor old Timour Melek, +then I insult you. I've discovered that I have nerves; I never before +knew it." + +"Cold flap-jacks and cider would have destroyed Hercules himself in +time," observed Speed, following with his eyes the movements of a +lithe young girl, who was busy with the hoisting apparatus of the +flying trapeze. The girl was Jacqueline, dressed in a mended gown of +Miss Delany's. + +"At times," muttered Speed, partly to himself, "that little witch +frightens me. There is no risk she dares not take; even Horan gets +nervous; and when that bull-necked numbskull is scared there's reason +for it." + +We walked out into the main tent, where simultaneous rehearsals were +everywhere in progress; and I picked up the ring-master's whip and +sent it curling after "Briza," a harmless, fat, white mare on which +pretty Mrs. Grigg was sitting expectantly. Round and round the ring +she cantered, now astride two horses, now guiding a "spike," +practising assiduously her acrobatics. At intervals, far up in the +rigging overhead, I caught glimpses of Miss Crystal swinging on her +trapeze, watching the ring below. + +Byram came in to rehearse the opening processional and to rebuke his +dearest foe, the unspeakable "camuel," bestridden by Mrs. Horan as +Fatima, Queen of the Desert. Speed followed, squatted on the head of +the elephant, ankus on thigh, shouting, "Hôut! Mäil! Djebé Noain! +Mäil the hezar! Mäil!" he thundered, triumphantly, saluting Byram with +lifted ankus as the elephant ambled past in a cloud of dust. + +"Clear the ring!" cried Byram. + +Miss Delany, who was outlining Jacqueline with juggler's knives, began +to pull her stock of cutlery from the soft pine backing; elephant, +camel, horses trampled out; Miss Crystal caught a dangling rope and +slid earthward, and I turned and walked towards the outer door with +Byram. + +As I looked back for an instant I saw Jacqueline, in her glittering +diving-skin, calmly step out of her discarded skirt and walk towards +the sunken tank in the middle of the ring, which three workmen were +uncovering. + +She was to rehearse her perilous leap for the first time to-day, and I +told Speed frankly that I was too nervous to be present, and so left +him staring across the dusky tent at the slim child in spangles. + +I had an appointment to meet Robert the Lizard at noon, and I was +rather curious to find out how much his promises were worth when the +novelty of his new gun had grown stale. So I started towards the +cliffs, nibbling a crust of bread for luncheon, though the incident of +the morning had left me small appetite for food. + +The poacher was sunning himself on his doorsill when I came into view +over the black basalt rocks. To my surprise, he touched his cap as I +approached, and rose civilly, replying to my greeting with a brief, +"Salute, m'sieu!" + +"You are prompt to the minute," I said, pleasantly. + +"You also," he observed. "We are quits, m'sieu--so far." + +I told him of the progress that Jacqueline was making; he listened in +silence, and whether or not he was interested I could not determine. + +There was a pause; I looked out across the sun-lit ocean, taking time +to arrange the order of the few questions which I had to ask. + +"Come to the point, m'sieu," he said, dryly. "We have struck +palms." + +Spite of my training, spite of the caution which experience brings to +the most unsuspicious of us, I had a curious confidence in this +tattered rascal's loyalty to a promise. And apparently without reason, +too, for there was something wrong with his eyes--or else with the way +he used them. They were wonderful, vivid blue eyes, well set and well +shaped, but he never looked at anybody directly except in moments of +excitement or fury. At such moments his eyes appeared to be lighted up +from behind. + +"Lizard," I said, "you are a poacher." + +His placid visage turned stormy. + +"None of that, m'sieu," he retorted; "remember the bargain! Concern +yourself with your own affairs!" + +"Wait," I said. "I'm not trying to reform you. For my purposes it is +a poacher I want--else I might have gone to another." + +"That sounds more reasonable," he admitted, guardedly. + +"I want to ask this," I continued: "are you a poacher from +necessity, or from that pure love of the chase which is born in even +worse men than you and I?" + +"I poach because I love it. There are no poachers from necessity; +there is always the sea, which furnishes work for all who care to +steer a sloop, or draw a seine, or wield a sea-rake. I am a pilot." + +"But the war?" + +"At least the war could not keep me from the sardine grounds." + +"So you poach from choice?" + +"Yes. It is in me. I am sorry, but what shall I do? _It's in me_." + +"And you can't resist?" + +He laughed grimly. "Go and call in the hounds from the stag's +throat!" + +Presently I said: + +"You have been in jail?" + +"Yes," he replied, indifferently. + +"For poaching?" + +"Eur e'harvik rous," he said in Breton, and I could not make out +whether he meant that he had been in jail for the sake of a woman or +of a "little red doe." The Breton language bristles with double +meanings, symbols, and allegories. The word for doe in Breton is +_karvez_; or for a doe which never had a fawn, it is _heiez_; for a +fawn the word is _karvik_. + +I mentioned these facts to him, but he only looked dangerous and +remained silent. + +"Lizard," I said, "give me your confidence as I give you mine. I +will tell you now that I was once in the police--" + +He started. + +"And that I expect to enter that corps again. And I want your aid." + +"My aid? For the police?" His laugh was simply horrible. "I? The +Lizard? Continue, m'sieu." + +"I will tell you why. Yesterday, on a visit to Point Paradise, I saw +a man lying belly down in the bracken; but I didn't let him know I saw +him. I have served in the police; I think I recognize that man. He is +known in Belleville as Tric-Trac. He came here, I believe, to see a +man called Buckhurst. Can you find this Tric-Trac for me? Do you, +perhaps, know him?" + +"Yes," said the Lizard, "I knew him in prison." + +"You have seen him here?" + +"Yes, but I will not betray him." + +"Why?" + +"Because he is a poor, hunted devil of a poacher like me!" cried the +Lizard, angrily. "He must live; there's enough land in Finistère for +us both." + +"How long has he been here in Paradise?" + +"For two months." + +"And he told you he lived by poaching?" + +"Yes." + +"He lies." + +The Lizard looked at me intently. + +"He has played you; he is a thief, and he has come here to rob. He is +a filou--a town rat. Can he bend a hedge-snare? Can he line a string +of dead-falls? Can he even snare enough game to keep himself from +starving? He a woodsman? _He_ a poacher of the bracken? You are +simple, my friend." + +The veins in the poacher's neck began to swell and a dull color +flooded his face. + +"Prove that he has played me," he said. + +"Prove it yourself." + +"How?" + +"By watching him. He came here to meet a man named Buckhurst." + +"I have seen that man Buckhurst, too. What is he doing here?" asked +the Lizard. + +"That is what I want you to find out and help me to find out!" I +said. "Voilà! Now you know what I want of you." + +The sombre visage of the poacher twitched. + +"I take it," said I, "that you would not make a comrade of a petty +pickpocket." + +The poacher uttered an oath and shook his fist at me. "Bon sang!" he +snarled, "I am an honest man if I am a poacher!" + +"That's the reason I trusted you," said I, good-humoredly. "Take +your fists down, my friend, and think out a plan which will permit me +to observe this Monsieur Tric-Trac at my leisure, without I myself +being observed." + +"That is easy," he said. "I take him food to-day." + +"Then I was right," said I, laughing. "He is a Belleville rat, who +cannot feed himself where there are no pockets to pick. Does he know a +languste from a linnet? Not he, my friend!" + +The Lizard sat still, head bent, knees drawn up, apparently buried in +thought. There is no injury one can do a Breton of his class like the +injury of deceiving and mocking. + +If Tric-Trac, a man of the city, had come here to profit by the +ignorance of a Breton--and perhaps laugh at his stupidity! + +But I let the ferment work in the dark blood of the Lizard, leaving +him to his own sombre logic, undisturbed. + +Presently the Lizard raised his head and fixed his bright, intelligent +eyes on me. + +"M'sieu," he said, in a curiously gentle voice, "we men of Paradise +are called out for the army. I must go, or go to jail. How can I +remain here and help you trap these filous?" + +"I have telegraphed to General Chanzy," I said, frankly. "If he +accepts--or if General Aurelles de Palladine is favorable--I shall +make you exempt under authority from Tours. I mean to keep you in my +service, anyway," I added. + +"You mean that--that I need not go to Lorient--to this war?" + +"I hope so, my friend." + +He looked at me, astonished. "If you can do that, m'sieu, you can do +anything." + +"In the meanwhile," I said, dryly, "I want another look at +Tric-Trac." + +"I could show you Tric-Trac in an hour--but to go to him direct would +excite his suspicion. Besides, there are two gendarmes in Paradise to +conduct the conscripts to Lorient; there are also several +gardes-champêtre. But I can get you there, in the open moorland, too, +under everybody's noses! Shall I?" he said, with an eager ferocity +that startled me. + +"You are not to injure him, no matter what he does or says," I said, +sharply. "I want to watch him, not to frighten him away. I want to +see what he and Buckhurst are doing. Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +"Then strike palms!" + +We struck vigorously. + +"Now I am ready to start," I said, pleasantly. + +"And now I am ready to tell you something," he said, with the fierce +light burning behind his blue eyes. "If you were already in the +police I would not help you--no, not even to trap this filou who has +mocked me! If you again enter the police I will desert you!" + +He licked his dry lips. + +"Do you know what a blood-feud is?" + +"Yes," I said. + +"Then understand that a man in a high place has wronged me--and that +he is of the police--the Imperial Military police!" + +"Who?" + +"You will know when I pass my fagot-knife into his throat," he +snarled--"not before." + +The Lizard picked up his fishing-rod, slung a canvas bag over his +stained velveteen jacket, gathered together a few coils of hair-wire, +a pot of twig-lime, and other odds and ends, which he tucked into his +broad-flapped coat-pocket. "Allons," he said, briefly, and we +started. + +The canvas bag on his back bulged, perhaps with provisions, although +the steel point of a murderous salmon-gaff protruded from the mouth of +the sack and curved over his shoulder. + +The village square in Paradise was nearly deserted. The children had +raced away to follow the newly arrived gendarmes as closely as they +dared, and the women were in-doors hanging about their men, whom the +government summoned to Lorient. + +There were, however, a few people in the square, and these the Lizard +was very careful to greet. Thus we passed the mayor, waddling across +the bridge, puffing with official importance over the arrival of the +gendarmes. He bowed to me; the Lizard saluted him with, "Times are +hard on the fat!" to which the mayor replied morosely, and bade him go +to the devil. + +"Au revoir, donc," retorted the Lizard, unabashed. The mayor bawled +after him a threat of arrest unless he reported next day in the +square. + +At that the poacher halted. "Don't you wish you might get me!" he +said, tauntingly, probably presuming on my conditional promise. + +"Do you refuse to report?" demanded the mayor, also halting. + +"Et ta soeur!" replied the poacher; "is she reporting at the +caserne?" + +The mayor replied angrily, and a typical Breton quarrel began, which +ended in the mayor biting his thumb-nail at the Lizard and wishing +him "St. Hubert's luck"--an insult tantamount to a curse. + +Now St. Hubert was a mighty hunter, and his luck was proverbially +marvellous. But as everything goes by contrary in Brittany, to wish a +Breton hunter good luck was the very worst thing you could do him. Bad +luck was certain to follow--if not that very day, certainly, +inexorably, _some_ day. + +With wrath in his eyes the Lizard exhausted his profanity, stretching +out his arm after the retreating mayor, who waddled away, +gesticulating, without turning his head. + +"Come back! Toad! Sourd! V-Snake! Bat of the gorse!" shouted the +Lizard. "Do you think I'm afraid of your spells, fat owl of Faöuet? +Evil-eyed eel! The luck of Ker-Ys to you and yours! Ho fois! Do you +think I am frightened--I, Robert the Lizard? Your wife is a camel and +your daughter a cow!" The mayor was unmarried, but it didn't matter. +And, moreover, as that official was now out of ear-shot, the Lizard +turned anxiously to me. + +"Don't tell me you are superstitious enough to care what the mayor +said," I laughed. + +"Dame, m'sieu, we shall have no luck to-day. To-morrow it doesn't +matter--but if we go to-day, bad luck must come to us." + +"To-day? Nonsense!" + +"If not, then another day." + +"Rubbish! Come on." + +"Do you think we could take precautions?" he asked, furtively. + +"Take all you like," I said; "rack your brains for an antidote to +neutralize the bad luck, only come on, you great gaby!" + +I knew many of the Finistère legends; out of the corner of my eye I +watched this stalwart rascal, cowed by gross superstition, peeping +about for some favorable sign to counteract the luck of St. Hubert. + +First he looked up at the crows, and counted them as they passed +overhead cawing ominously--one--two--three--four--five! Five is danger! +But wait, more were coming: one--two--three--four--five--six--seven--! A +loss! Well, that was not as bad as some things. But hark! More crows +coming: one--two--three! Death! + +"Jesû!" he faltered, ducking his head instinctively. "I'll look +elsewhere for signs." + +The signs were all wrong that morning; first we met an ancient crone +with a great pack of fagots on her bent back, and I was sure he could +have strangled her cheerfully, because there are few worse omens for a +hunter of game or of men. Then he examined the first mushroom he +found, but under the pink-and-pearl cap we saw no insects crawling. +The veil, too, was rent, showing the poisonous, fluted gills; and the +toadstool blackened when he cut it with the blade of his fagot-knife. + +He tried once more, however, and searched through the gorse until he +found a heavy lizard, green as an emerald. He teased it till it +snapped at the silver franc in my hand; its teeth should have +vanished, but when he held out his finger the creature bit into it +till the blood spurted. + +Still I refused to turn back. What should he do? Then into his mind +crept a Pouldu superstition. It was a charm against evil, including +lightning, black-rot, rheumatism, and "douleurs" of other varieties. + +The charm was simple. We needed only to build a little fire of gorse, +and walk through the smoke once or twice. So we built the fire and +walked through the smoke, the Lizard coughing and cursing until I +feared he might overdo it by smothering us both. Then stamping out +the last spark--for he was a woodsman always--we tramped on in better +humor with destiny. + +"You think that turned the curse backward, m'sieu?" he asked. + +"There is not the faintest doubt of that," I said. + +Far away towards Sainte-Ysole we saw the blue woods which were our +goal. However, we had no intention of going there as the bee flies, +partly because Tric-Trac might see us, partly because the Lizard +wished any prowling passer-by to observe that he was occupied with his +illegitimate profession. For my part, I very much preferred a brush +with a garde-champêtre or a summons to explain why no shots were found +in the Lizard's pheasants, rather than have anybody ask us why we were +walking so fast towards Sainte-Ysole woods. + +Therefore we promptly selected a hedge for operations, choosing a +high, thick one, which separated two fields of wheat stubble. + +Kneeling under the hedge, he broke a hole in it just large enough for +a partridge to worry through. Then he bent his twig, fastened the +hair-wire into a running noose, adjusted it, and stood up. This +manoeuvre he repeated at various hedges or in thickets where he +"lined" his trail with peeled twigs on every bush. + +Once he paused to reset a hare-trap with a turnip, picked up in a +neighboring field; once he limed a young sapling and fixed a bit of a +mirror in the branches, but not a bird alighted, although the +blackthorns were full of fluttering wings. And all the while we had +been twisting and doubling and edging nearer and nearer to the +Sainte-Ysole woods, until we were already within their cool shadow, +and I heard the tinkle of a stream among leafy depths. + +Now we had no fear; we were hidden from the eyes of the dry, staring +plain, and the Lizard laughed to himself as he fastened a grasshopper +to his hook and flung it into the broad, dark water of the pool at his +feet. + +Slowly he fished up stream, but, although he seemed to be intent on +his sport, there was something in the bend of his head that suggested +he might be listening for other sounds than the complex melodies of +mossy waterfalls. + +His poacher's eyes began to glisten and shimmer in the forest dusk +like the eyes of wild things that hunt at night. As he noiselessly +turned, his nostrils spread with a tremor, as a good dog's nose +quivers at the point. + +Presently he beckoned me, stepped into the moss, and crawled without a +sound straight through the holly thicket. + +"Watch here," he whispered. "Count a hundred when I disappear, then +creep on your stomach to the edge of that bank. In the bed of the +stream, close under you, you will see and hear your friend +Tric-Trac." + +Before I had counted fifty I heard the Lizard cry out, "Bonjour, +Tric-Trac!" but I counted on, obeying the Lizard's orders as I should +wish mine to be obeyed. I heard a startled exclamation in reply to the +Lizard's greeting, then a purely Parisian string of profanity, which +terminated as I counted one hundred and crept forward to the mossy +edge of the bank, under the yellow beech leaves. + +Below me stood the Lizard, intently watching a figure crouched on +hands and knees before a small, iron-bound box. + +The person addressed as Tric-Trac promptly tried to hide the box by +sitting down on it. He was a young man, with wide ears and unhealthy +spots on his face. His hair, which was oily and thick, he wore neatly +plastered into two pointed love-locks. This not only adorned and +distinguished him, but it lent a casual and detached air to his ears, +which stood at right angles to the plane of his face. I knew that +engaging countenance. It was the same old Tric-Trac. + +"Zut, alors!" repeated Tric-Trac, venomously, as the poacher smiled +again; "can't you give the company notice when you come in?" + +"Did you expect me to ring the tocsin?" asked the Lizard. + +"Flute!" snarled Tric-Trac. "Like a mud-rat, you creep with no +sound--c'est pas polite, nom d'un nom!" + +He began nervously brushing the pine-needles from his skin-tight +trousers, with dirty hands. + +"What's that box?" asked the Lizard, abruptly. + +"Box? Where?" A vacant expression came into Tric-Trac's face, and he +looked all around him except at the box upon which he was sitting. + +"Box?" he repeated, with that hopeless effrontery which never deserts +criminals of his class, even under the guillotine. "I don't see any +box." + +"You're sitting on it," observed the Lizard. + +"_That_ box? Oh! You mean _that_ box? Oh!" He peeped at it between +his meagre legs, then turned a nimble eye on the poacher. + +"What's in it?" demanded the poacher, sullenly. + +"Don't know," replied Tric-Trac, with brisk interest. "I found it." + +"_Found_ it!" repeated the Lizard, scornfully. + +"Certainly, my friend; how do you suppose I came by it?" + +"You stole it!" + +They faced each other for a moment. + +"Supposition that you are correct; what of it?" said the young +ruffian, calmly. + +The Lizard was silent. + +"Did you bring me anything to chew on?" inquired Tric-Trac, sniffing +at the poacher's sack. + +"Bread, cheese, three pheasants, cider--more than I eat in a week," +said the Lizard, quietly. "It will cost forty sous." + +He opened his sack and slowly displayed the provisions. + +I looked hard at the iron-bound box. + +_On one end was painted the Geneva cross._ Dr. Delmont and Professor +Tavernier had disappeared carrying red-cross funds. Was that their +box? + +"I said it costs forty sous--two silver francs," repeated the Lizard, +doggedly. + +"Forty sous? That's robbery!" sniffed the young ruffian, now using +that half-whining, half-sneering form of discourse peculiar alike to +the vicious chevalier of Paris and his confrère of the provincial +centres. Accent and slang alone distinguish between them; the argot, +however, is practically the same. + +Tric-Trac fished a few coins from his pocket, counted carefully, and +handed them, one by one, to the poacher. + +The poacher coolly tossed the food on the ground, and, as Tric-Trac +rose to pick it up, seized the box. + +"Drop that!" said Tric-Trac, quickly. + +"What's in it?" + +"Nothing! Drop it, I tell you." + +"Where's the key?" + +"There's no key--it's a machine." + +"What's in it?" + +"Now I've been trying to find out for two weeks," sneered Tric-Trac, +"and I don't know yet. Drop it!" + +"I'm going to open it all the same," said the Lizard, coolly, lifting +the lid. + +A sudden silence followed; then the Lizard swore vigorously. There was +another box within the light, iron-edged casket, a keyless cube of +shining steel, with a knob on the top, and a needle which revolved +around a dial on which were engraved the hours and minutes. And +emblazoned above the dial was the coat of arms of the Countess de +Vassart. + +When Tric-Trac had satisfied himself concerning the situation, he +returned to devour his food. + +"Flute! Zut! Mince!" he observed; "you and your bad manners, they +sicken me--tiens!" + +The Lizard, flat on his stomach, lay with the massive steel box under +his chin, patiently turning the needle from figure to figure. + +"Wonderful! wonderful!" sneered Tric-Trac. "Continue, my friend, to +put out your eyes with your fingers!" + +The Lizard continued to turn the needle backward and forward around +the face of the dial. Once, when he twirled it impatiently, a tiny +chime rang out from within the box, but the steel lid did not open. + +"It's the Angelus," said Tric-Trac, with a grimace. "Let us pray, my +friend, for a cold-chisel--when my friend Buckhurst returns." + +Still the Lizard lay, unmoved, turning the needle round and round. + +Tric-Trac having devoured the cheese, bread, and an entire pheasant, +made a bundle of the remaining food, emptied the cider-jug, wiped his +beardless face with his cap, and announced that he would be pleased to +"broil" a cigarette. + +"Do you want the gendarmes to scent tobacco?" said the Lizard. + +"Are the 'Flics' out already?" asked Tric-Trac, astonished. + +"They're in Paradise, setting the whole Department by the ears. But +they can't look sideways at me; I'm going to be exempt." + +"It strikes me," observed Tric-Trac, "that you take great +precautions for your own skin." + +"I do," said the Lizard. + +"What about me?" + +The poacher looked around at the young ruffian. Those muscles in the +human face which draw back the upper lip are not the muscles used for +laughter. Animals employ them when they snarl. And now the Lizard +laughed that way; his upper lip shrank from the edge of his yellow +teeth, and he regarded Tric-Trac with oblique and burning eyes. + +"What about me?" repeated Tric-Trac, in an offended tone. "Am I to +live in fear of the Flics?" + +The Lizard laughed again, and Tric-Trac, disgusted, stood up, settled +his cap over his wide ears, humming a song as he loosened his +trousers-belt: + + "Si vous t'nez à vot' squelette + Ne fait' pas comme Bibi! + Claquer plutôt dans vot' lit + Que de claquer à la Roquette!"-- + +"Who are you gaping at?" he added, abruptly. "Bon; c'est ma geule. +Et après? Drop that box!" + +"Come," replied the Lizard, coldly, placing the box on the moss, +"you'd better not quarrel with me." + +"Oh, that's a threat, is it?" sneered Tric-Trac. He walked over to +the steel box, lifted it, placed it in the iron-edged case, and sat +down on the case. + +"I want you to comprehend," he added, "that you have pushed your +nose into an affair that does not concern you. The next time you come +here to sell your snared pheasants, come like a man, nom de Dieu! and +not like a cat of the Glacière!--or I'll find a way to stop your +curiosity." + +The dull-red color surged into the poacher's face and heavy neck; for +a moment he stood as though stunned. Then he dragged out his knife. + +Tric-Trac sat looking at him insolently, one hand thrust into the +bosom of his greasy coat. + +"I've got a toy under my cravate that says 'Papa!' six times--pop! +pop! pop! pop! pop! pop! Papa!" he continued, calmly; "so there's no +use in your turning red and swelling the veins in your neck. Go to the +devil! Do you think I can't live without you? Go to the devil with +your traps and partridges and fish-hooks--and that fagot-knife in your +fist--and if you try to throw it at me you'll make a sad mistake!" + +The Lizard's half-raised hand dropped as Tric-Trac, with a movement +like lightning, turned a revolver full on him, talking all the while +in his drawling whine. + +"C'est çà! Now you are reasonable. Get out of this forest, my +friend--or stay and join us. Eh! That astonishes you? Why? Idiot, we +want men like you. We want men who have nothing to lose and--millions +to gain! Ah, you are amazed! Yes, millions--I say it. I, Tric-Trac of +the Glacière, who have done my time in Noumea, too! Yes, millions." + +The young ruffian laughed and slowly passed his tongue over his thin +lips. The Lizard slowly returned his knife to its sheath, looked all +around, then deliberately sat down on the moss cross-legged. I could +have hugged him. + +"A million? Where?" he asked, vacantly. + +"Parbleu! Naturally you ask where," chuckled Tric-Trac. "Tiens! A +supposition that it's in this box!" + +"The box is too small," said the Lizard, patiently. + +Tric-Trac roared. "Listen to him! Listen to the child!" he cried, +delighted. "Too small to hold gold enough for you? Very well--but is +_a ship big enough_?" + +"A big ship is." + +Tric-Trac wriggled in convulsions of laughter. + +"Oh, listen! He wants a big ship! Well--say a ship as big as that +ugly, black iron-clad sticking up out of the sea yonder, like a +Usine-de-gaz!" + +"I think that ship would be big enough," said the poacher, +seriously. + +Tric-Trac did not laugh; his little eyes narrowed, and he looked +steadily at the poacher. + +"Do you mean what I mean?" he asked, deliberately. + +"Well," said the Lizard, "what do you mean?" + +"I mean that France is busy stitching on a new flag." + +"Black?" + +"Red--_first_." + +"Oh-h!" mused the poacher. "When does France hoist that new red +flag?" + +"When Paris falls." + +The poacher rested his chin on his doubled fist and leaned forward +across his gathered knees. "I see," he drawled. + +"Under the commune there can be no more poverty," said Tric-Trac; +"you comprehend that." + +"Exactly." + +"And no more aristocrats." + +"Exactly." + +"Well," said Tric-Trac, his head on one side, "how does that +programme strike you?" + +"It is impossible, your programme," said the poacher, rising to his +feet impatiently. + +"You think so? Wait a few days! Wait, my friend," cried Tric-Trac, +eagerly; "and say!--come back here next Monday! There will be a few +of us here--a few friends. And keep your mouth shut tight. Here! Wait. +Look here, friend, don't let a little pleasantry stand between +comrades. Your fagot-knife against my little flute that sings +pa-pa!--that leaves matters balanced, eh?" + +The young ruffian had followed the Lizard and caught him by his +stained velvet coat. + +"Voyons," he persisted, "do you think the commune is going to let a +comrade starve for lack of Badinguet's lozenges? Here, take a few of +these!" and the rascal thrust out a dirty palm full of twenty-franc +gold pieces. + +"What are these for?" muttered the Lizard, sullenly. + +"For your beaux yeux, imbecile!" cried Tric-Trac, gayly. "Come back +when you want more. My comrade, Citizen Buckhurst, will be glad to see +you next Monday. Adieu, my friend. Don't chatter to the Flics!" + +He picked up his box and the packet of provisions, dropped his +revolver into the side-pocket of his jacket, cocked his greasy cap, +blew a kiss to the Lizard, and started off straight into the forest. +After a dozen steps he hesitated, turned, and looked back at the +poacher for a moment in silence. Then he made a friendly grimace. + +"You are not a fool," he said, "so you won't follow me. Come again +Monday. It will really be worth while, dear friend." Then, as on an +impulse, he came all the way back, caught the Lizard by the sleeve, +raised his meagre body on tip-toe, and whispered. + +The Lizard turned perfectly white; Tric-Trac trotted away into the +woods, hugging his box and smirking. + +The Lizard and I walked back together. By the time we reached Paradise +bridge I understood him better, and he understood me. And when we +arrived at the circus tent, and when Speed came up, handing me a +telegram from Chanzy refusing my services, the Lizard turned to me +like an obedient hound to take my orders--now that I was not to +re-enter the Military Police. + +I ordered him to disobey the orders from Lorient and from the mayor of +Paradise; to take to the woods as though to avoid the conscription; to +join Buckhurst's franc-company of ruffians, and to keep me fully +informed. + +"And, Lizard," I said, "you may be caught and hanged for it by the +police, or stabbed by Tric-Trac." + +"Bien," he said, coolly. + +"But it is a brave thing you do; a soldierly thing!" + +He was silent. + +"It is for France," I said. + +He shrugged his shoulders. + +"And we'll catch this Tric-Trac red-handed," I suggested. + +"Ah--yes!" His eyes glowed as though lighted up from behind. "And +another who is high in the police, and a friend of this Tric-Trac!" + +"Was it that man's name he whispered to you when you turned so +white?" I said, suddenly. + +The Lizard turned his glowing eyes on me. + +"Was the man's name--Mornac?" I asked, at a hopeless venture. + +The Lizard shivered; I needed no reply, not even his hoarse, "Are you +the devil, that you know all things?" + +I looked at him wonderingly. What wrong could Mornac have done a +ragged outcast here on the Breton coast? And where was Mornac? Had he +left Paris in time to avoid the Prussian trap? Was he here in this +country, rubbing elbows with Buckhurst? + +"Did Tric-Trac tell you that Mornac was at the head of that band?" I +demanded. + +"Why do you ask me?" stammered the Lizard; "you know +everything--even when it is scarcely whispered!" + +The superstitious astonishment of the man, his utter collapse and his +evident fear of me, did not suit me. Treachery comes through that kind +of fear; I meant to rule him in another and safer manner. I meant to +be absolutely honest with him. + +It was difficult to persuade him that I had only guessed the name +whispered; that, naturally, I should think of Mornac as a high officer +of police, and particularly so since I knew him to be a villain, and +had also divined his relations with Buckhurst. + +I drew from the poacher that Tric-Trac had named Mornac as head of the +communistic plot in Brittany; that Mornac was coming to Paradise very +soon, and that then something gay might be looked for. + +And that night I took Speed into my confidence and finally Kelly Eyre, +our balloonist. + +And we talked the matter over until long after midnight. + + + + +XV + +FOREWARNED + + +The lions had now begun to give me a great deal of trouble. Timour +Melek, the old villain, sat on his chair, snarling and striking at me, +but still going through his paces; Empress Khatoun was a perfect devil +of viciousness, and refused to jump her hoops; even poor little Aïcha, +my pet, fed by me soon after her foster-mother, a big Newfoundland, +had weaned her, turned sullen in the pyramid scene. I roped her and +trimmed her claws; it was high time. + +Oh, they knew, and I knew, that matters had gone wrong with me; that I +had, for a time, at least, lost the intangible something which I once +possessed--that occult right to dominate. + +It worried me; it angered me. Anger in authority, which is a weakness, +is quickly discovered by beasts. + +Speed's absurd superstition continued to recur to me at inopportune +moments; in my brain his voice was ceaselessly sounding--"A man in +love, a man in love, a man in love"--until a flash of temper sent my +lions scurrying and snarling into a pack, where they huddled and +growled, staring at me with yellow, mutinous eyes. + +Yet, strangely, the greater the risk, and the plainer to me that my +lions were slipping out of my control, the more my apathy increased, +until even Byram began to warn me. + +Still I never felt the slightest physical fear; on the contrary, as +my irritation increased my disdain grew. It seemed a monstrous bit of +insolence on the part of these overgrown cats to meditate an attack on +me. Even though I began to feel that it was only a question of time +when the moment must arrive, even though I gradually became certain +that the first false move on my part would precipitate an attack, the +knowledge left me almost indifferent. + +That morning, as I left the training-cage--where, among others, Kelly +Eyre stood looking on--I suddenly remembered Sylvia Elven and her +message to Eyre, which I had never delivered. + +We strolled towards the stables together; he was a pleasant, +clean-cut, fresh-faced young fellow, a man I had never known very +well, but one whom I was inclined to respect and trust. + +"My son," said I, politely, "do you think you have arrived at an age +sufficiently mature to warrant my delivering to you a message from a +pretty girl?" + +"There's no harm in attempting it, my venerable friend," he replied, +laughing. + +"This is the message," I said: "_On Sunday the book-stores are +closed in Paris._" + +"Who gave you that message, Scarlett?" he stammered. + +I looked at him curiously, brutally; a red, hot blush had covered his +face from neck to hair. + +"In case you asked, I was to inform you," said I, "that a Bretonne +at Point Paradise sent the message." + +"A Bretonne!" he repeated, as though scared. + +"A Bretonne!" + +"But I don't know any!" + +I shrugged my shoulders discreetly. + +"Are you certain she was a Bretonne?" he asked. His nervousness +surprised me. + +"Does she not say so?" I replied. + +"I know--I know--but that message--there is only one woman who could +have sent it--" He hesitated, red as a pippin. + +He was so young, so manly, so unspoiled, and so red, that on an +impulse I said: "Kelly, it was Mademoiselle Elven who sent you the +message." + +His face expressed troubled astonishment. + +"Is that her name?" he asked. + +"Well--it's one of them, anyway," I replied, beginning to feel +troubled in my turn. "See here, Kelly, it's not my business, but you +won't mind if I speak plainly, will you? The times are queer--you +understand. Everybody is suspicious; everybody is under suspicion in +these days. And I want to say that the young lady who sent that +curious message to you is as clever as twenty men like you and me." + +He was silent. + +"If it is a love affair, I'll stop now--not a question, you +understand. If it is not--well, as an older and more battered and +world-worn man, I'm going to make a suggestion to you--with your +permission." + +"Make it," he said, quietly. + +"Then I will. Don't talk to Mademoiselle Elven. You, Speed, and I +know something about a certain conspiracy; we are going to know more +before we inform the captain of that cruiser out there beyond Point +Paradise. I know Mademoiselle Elven--slightly. I am afraid of her--and +I have not yet decided why. Don't talk to her." + +"But--I don't know her," he said; "or, at least I don't know her by +that name." + +After a moment I said: "Is the person in question the companion of +the Countess de Vassart?" + +"If she is I do not know it," he replied. + +"Was she once an actress?" + +"It would astonish me to believe it!" he said. + +"Then who do you believe sent you that message, Kelly?" + +His cheeks began to burn again, and he gave me an uncomfortable look. +A silence, and he sat down in my dressing-room, his boyish head buried +in his hands. After a glance at him I began changing my training-suit +for riding-clothes, whistling the while softly to myself. As I +buttoned a fresh collar he looked up. + +"Mr. Scarlett, you are well-born and--you are here in the circus with +the rest of us. You know what we are--you know that two or three of us +have seen better days,... that something has gone wrong with us to +bring us here,... but we never speak of it,... and never ask +questions.... But I should like to tell you about myself;... you are a +gentleman, you know,... and I was not born to anything in +particular.... I was a clerk in the consul's office in Paris when +Monsieur Tissandier took a fancy to me, and I entered his balloon +ateliers to learn to assist him." + +He hesitated. I tied my necktie very carefully before a bit of broken +mirror. + +"Then the government began to make much of us,... you remember? We +started experiments for the army.... I was intensely interested, and +... there was not much talk about secrecy then,... and my salary was +large, and I was received at the Tuileries. My head was turned;... +life was easy, brilliant. I made an invention--a little electric screw +which steered a balloon ... sometimes..." He laughed, a mirthless +laugh, and looked at me. All the color had gone from his face. + +"There was a woman--" I turned partly towards him. + +"We met first at the British Embassy,... then elsewhere,... +everywhere.... We skated together at the club in the Bois at that +celebrated fête,... you know?--the Emperor was there--" + +"I know," I said. + +He looked at me dreamily, passed his hand over his face, and went on: + +"Somehow we always talked about military balloons. And that evening +... she was so interested in my work ... I brought some little +sketches I had made--" + +"I understand," I said. + +He looked at me miserably. "She was to return the sketches to me at +Calman's--the fashionable book-store,... next day.... I never thought +that the next day was to be Sunday.... The book-stores of Paris are +not open on Sunday--_but the War Office is_." + +I began to put on my coat. + +"And the sketches were asked for?" I suggested--"and you naturally +told what had become of them?" + +"I refused to name her." + +"Of course; men of our sort can't do that." + +"I am not of your sort--you know it." + +"Oh yes, you are, my friend--and the same kind of fool, too. There's +only one kind of man in this world." + +He looked at me listlessly. + +"So they sent you to a fortress?" I asked. + +"To New Caledonia,... four years.... I was only twenty, Scarlett,... +and ruined.... I joined Byram in Antwerp and risked the tour through +France." + +After a moment's thought I said: "In your opinion, what nation +profited by your sketches? Italy? Spain? Prussia? Bavaria? England?... +Perhaps Russia?" + +"Do you mean that this woman was a foreign spy?" + +"Perhaps. Perhaps she was only careless, or capricious,... or +inconstant.... You never saw her again?" + +"I was under arrest on Sunday. I do not know.... I like to believe +that she went to the book-store on Monday,... that she made an +innocent mistake,... but I never knew, Scarlett,... I never knew." + +"Suppose you ask her?" I said. + +He reddened furiously. + +"I cannot.... If she did me a wrong, I cannot reproach her; if she +was innocent--look at me, Scarlett!--a ragged, ruined mountebank in a +travelling circus,... and she is--" + +"An honest woman that a man might care for?" + +"That is ... my belief." + +"If she is," I said, "go and ask her about those drawings." + +"But if she is not,... I cannot tell _you_!" he flashed out. + +"Let us shake hands, Kelly," I said,... "and be very good friends. +Will you?" + +He gave me his hand rather shyly. + +"We will never speak of her again," I said,... "unless you desire +it. You have had a terrible lesson in caution; I need say no more. +Only remember that I have trusted you with a secret concerning +Buckhurst's conspiracy." + +His firm hand tightened on mine, then he walked away, steadily, head +high. And I went out to saddle my horse for a canter across the moor +to Point Paradise. + +It was a gray day, with a hint of winter in the air, and a wind that +set the gorse rustling like tissue-paper. Up aloft the sun glimmered, +a white spot in a silvery smother; pale lights lay on moorland and +water; the sea tumbled over the bar, boiling like a flood of liquid +lead from which the spindrift curled and blew into a haze that buried +the island of Groix and turned the anchored iron-clad to a phantom. + +A day for a gallop, if ever there was such a day!--a day to wash out +care from a troubled mind and cleanse it in the whipping, reeking, wet +east wind--a day for a fox! And I rose in my saddle and shouted aloud +as a red fox shot out of the gorse and galloped away across the +endless moorland, with the feathers of a mallard still sticking to his +whiskers. + +Oh, what a gallop, with risk enough, too; for I did not know the coast +moors; and the deep clefts from the cliffs cut far inland, so that eye +and ear and bridle-hand were tense and ready to catch danger ere it +ingulfed us in some sea-churned crevice hidden by the bracken. And how +the gray gulls squealed, high whirling over us, and the wild ducks in +the sedge rose with clapping wings, craning their necks, only to swing +overhead in circles, whimpering, and drop, with pendent legs and wings +aslant, back into the bog from which we startled them. + +A ride into an endless gray land, sweet with sea-scents, rank with the +perfume of salty green things; a ride into a land of gushing winds, +wet as spray, strong and caressing, too, and full of mischief; winds +that set miles of sedge rippling; sudden winds, that turned still +pools to geysers and set the yellow gorse flowers flying; winds that +rushed up with a sea-roar like the sound in shells, then, sudden, died +away, to leave the furrowed clover motionless and the tall reeds still +as death. + +So, by strange ways and eccentric circles, like the aërial paths of +homing sea-birds, I came at last to the spot I had set out for, +consciously; yet it surprised me to find I had come there. + +Before I crossed the little bridge I scented the big orange-tinted +tea-roses and the pinks. Leaves on apricots were falling; the fig-tree +was bare of verdure, and the wind chased the big, bronzed leaves +across the beds of herbs, piling them into heaps at the base of the +granite wall. + +A boy took my horse; a servant in full Breton costume admitted me; +the velvet humming of Sylvia Elven's spinning-wheel filled the +silence, like the whirring of a great, soft moth imprisoned in a +room: + + "Woe to the Maids of Paradise, + Yvonne! + Twice have the Saxons landed--twice! + Yvonne! + Yet shall Paradise see them thrice! + Yvonne! Yvonne! Marivonik! + + "Fair is their hair and blue their eyes, + Yvonne! + Body o' me! their words are lies, + Yvonne! + Maids of Paradise, oh, be wise! + Yvonne! Yvonne! Marivonik!" + +The door swung open noiselessly; the whir of the wheel and the sound +of the song filled the room for an instant, then was shut out as the +Countess de Vassart closed the door and came forward to greet me. + +In her pretty, soft gown, with a tint of blue ribbon at the neck and +shoulders, she seemed scarcely older than a school-girl, so radiant, +so sweet and fresh she stood there, giving me her little hand to touch +in friendship. + +"It was so good of you to come," she said; "I know you made it a +duty and gave up a glorious gallop to be amiable to me. Did you?" + +I tried to say something, but her loveliness confused me. + +Somebody brought tea--I don't know who; all I could see clearly was +her gray eyes meeting mine--the light from the leaded window touching +her glorious, ruddy hair. + +As for the tea, I took whatever she offered; doubtless I drank it, but +I don't remember. Nor do I remember what she said at first, for +somehow I began thinking about my lions, and the thought obsessed me +even while striving to listen to her, even in the tingling maze of +other thoughts which kept me dumb under the exquisite spell of this +intimacy with her. + +The delicate odor of ripened herbs stole into the room from the +garden; far away, through the whispering whir of the spinning-wheel, I +heard the sea. + +"Do you like Sylvia's song?" she asked, turning her head to listen. +"It is a very old song--a very, very old one--centuries old. It's all +about the English, how they came to harry our coasts in those +days--and it has almost a hundred verses!" Something of the Bretonne +came into her eyes for a moment, that shadow of sadness, that patient +fatalism in which, too, there is something of distrust. The next +instant her eyes cleared and she smiled. + +"The Trécourts suffered much from the English raiders. I am a +Trécourt, you know. That song was made about us--about a young girl, +Yvonne de Trécourt, who was carried away by the English. She was +foolish; she had a lover among the Saxons,... and she set a signal for +him, and they came and sacked the town, and carried her away, and that +was what she got for her folly." + +She bent her head thoughtfully; the sound of the sea grew louder in +the room; a yellow light stole out of the west and touched the +window-panes, slowly deepening to orange; against it the fruit trees +stood, a leafless tracery of fragile branches. + +"It is the winter awaking, very far away," she said, under her +breath. + +Something in the hollow monotone of the sea made me think again of the +low grumble of restless lions. The sound was hateful. Why should it +steal in here--why haunt me even in this one spot in all the world +where a world-tired man had found a moment's peace in a woman's eyes. + +"Are you troubled?" she asked, then colored at her own question, as +though deeming the impulse to speak unwarranted. + +"No, not troubled. Happiness is often edged with a shadow. I am +content to be here." + +She bent her head and looked at the heavy rose lying in solitary +splendor on the table. The polished wood reflected it in subdued tints +of saffron. + +"It is a strange friendship," I said. + +"Ours?... yes." + +I said, musing: "To me it is like magic. I scarce dare speak, scarce +breathe, lest the spell break." + +She was silent. + +"--Lest the spell break--and this house, this room, fade away, +leaving me alone, staring at the world once more." + +"If there is a spell, you have cast it," she said, laughing at my +sober face. "A wizard ought to be able to make his spells endure." + +Then her face grew graver. "You must forget the past," she said; +"you must forget all that was cruel and false and unhappy,... will +you not?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"I, too," she said, "have much to forget and much to hope for; and +you taught me how to forget and how to hope." + +"I, madame?" + +"Yes,... at La Trappe, at Morsbronn, and here. Look at me. Have I not +changed?" + +"Yes," I said, fascinated. + +"I know I have," she said, as though speaking to herself. "Life +means more now. Somehow my childhood seems to have returned, with all +its hope of the world and all its confidence in the world, and its +certainty that all will be right. Years have fallen from my shoulders +like a released burden that was crushing me to my knees. I have +awakened from a dream that was not life at all,... a dream in which +I, alone, staggered through darkness, bearing the world on my +shoulders--the world doubly weighted with the sorrows of mankind,... a +dream that lasted years, but..._you_ awoke me." + +She leaned forward and lifted the rose, touching her face with it. + +"It was so simple, after all--this secret of the world's malady. You +read it for me. I know now what is written on the eternal tablets--to +live one's own life as it is given, in honor, charity, without malice; +to seek happiness where it is offered; to share it when possible; to +uplift. But, most of all, to be happy and accept happiness as a +heavenly gift that is to be shared with as many as possible. And this +I have learned since ... I knew you." + +The light in the room had grown dimmer; I leaned forward to see her +face. + +"Am I not right?" she asked. + +"I think so.... I am learning from you." + +"But you taught this creed to me!" she cried. + +"No, you are teaching it to me. And the first lesson was a gift,... +your friendship." + +"Freely given, gladly given," she said, quickly. "And yours I have +in return,... and will keep always--always--" + +She crushed the rose against her mouth, looking at me with inscrutable +gray eyes, as I had seen her look at me once at La Trappe, once in +Morsbronn. + +I picked up my gloves and riding-crop; as I rose she stood up in the +dusk, looking straight at me. + +I said something about Sylvia Elven and my compliments to her, +something else about the happiness I felt at coming to the château +again, something about her own goodness to me--Heaven knows what!--and +she gave me her hand and I held it a moment. + +"Will you come again?" she asked. + +I stammered a promise and made my way blindly to the door which a +servant threw open, flung myself astride my horse, and galloped out +into the waste of moorland, seeing nothing, hearing nothing save the +low roar of the sea, like the growl of restless lions. + + + + +XVI + +A RESTLESS MAN + + +When I came into camp, late that afternoon, I found Byram and Speed +groping about among a mass of newspapers and letters, the first mail +we circus people had received for nearly two months. + +There were letters for all who were accustomed to look for letters +from families, relatives, or friends at home. I never received +letters--I had received none of that kind in nearly a score of years, +yet that curious habit of expectancy had not perished in me, and I +found myself standing with the others while Byram distributed the +letters, one by one, until the last home-stamped envelope had been +given out, and all around me the happy circus-folk were reading in +homesick contentment. I know of no lonelier man than he who lingers +empty-handed among those who pore over the home mail. + +But there were newspapers enough and to spare--French, English, +American; and I sat down by my lion's cage and attempted to form some +opinion of the state of affairs in France. And, as far as I could read +between the lines, this is what I gathered, partly from my own +knowledge of past events, partly from the foreign papers, particularly +the English: + +When, on the 3d of September, the humiliating news arrived that the +Emperor was a prisoner and his army annihilated, the government, for +the first time in its existence, acted with promptness and decision +in a matter of importance. Secret orders were sent by couriers to the +Bank of France, to the Louvre, and to the Invalides; and, that same +night, train after train rushed out of Paris loaded with the +battle-flags from the Invalides, the most important pictures and +antique sculptures from the Louvre, the greater part of the gold and +silver from the Bank of France, and, last but by no means least, the +crown and jewels of France. + +This Speed and I already knew. + +These trains were despatched to Brest, and at the same time a telegram +was directed to the admiral commanding the French iron-clad fleet in +the Baltic to send an armored cruiser to Brest with all haste +possible, there to await further orders, but to be fully prepared in +any event to take on board certain goods designated in cipher. This we +knew in a general way, though Speed understood that Lorient was to be +the port of departure. + +The plan was a good one and apparently simple; and there seemed to be +no doubt that jewels, battle-flags, pictures, and coin were already +beyond danger from the German armies, now plodding cautiously +southward toward the capital, which was slowly recovering from its +revolutionary convulsions and preparing for a siege. + +The plan, then, was simple; but, for an equally simple reason, it +miscarried in the following manner. Early in August, while the French +armies from the Rhine to the Meuse were being punished with frightful +regularity and precision, the French Mediterranean squadron had sailed +up and down that interesting expanse of water, apparently in patriotic +imitation of the historic + + "King of France and twenty thousand men." +For, it now appeared, the French admiral was afraid that the Spanish +navy might aid the German ships in harassing the French transports, +which at that time were frantically engaged in ferrying a sea-sick +Algerian army across the Mediterranean to the mother country. + +Of course there was no ground for the admiral's suspicions. The German +war-ships stayed in their own harbors, the Spaniards made no offensive +alliance with Prussia, and at length the French admiral sailed +triumphantly away with his battleships and cruisers. + +On the 7th of August the squadron of four battleships, two armored +corvettes, and a despatch-boat steamed out of Brest, picking up on its +way northward three more iron-clad frigates, and several cruisers and +despatch-boats; and on the 11th of August, 1870, the squadron anchored +off Heligoland, from whence Admiral Fourichon proclaimed the blockade +of the German coast. + +It must have been an imposing sight! There lay the great iron-clads, +the _Magnanime_, the _Héroine_, the _Provence_, the _Valeureuse_, the +_Revanche_, the _Invincible_, the _Couronne_! There lay the cruisers, +the _Atalante_, the _Renaud_, the _Cosmao_, the _Decrès_! There, too, +lay the single-screw despatch-boats _Reine-Hortense_, _Renard_, and +_Dayot_. And upon their armored decks, three by three, stalked the +French admirals. Yet, without cynicism, it may be said that the +admirals of France fought better, in 1870, on dry land than they did +on the ocean. + +However, the German ships stayed peacefully inside their fortified +ports, and the three French admirals pranced peacefully up and down +outside, until the God of battles intervened and trouble naturally +ensued. + +On the 6th of September all the seas of Europe were set clashing under +a cyclone that rose to a howling hurricane. The British iron-clad +_Captain_ foundered off Finistère; the French fleet in the Baltic was +scattered to the four winds. + +In the midst of the tempest a French despatch-boat, the _Hirondelle_, +staggered into sight, signalling the flag-ship. Then the French +admiral for the first time learned the heart-breaking news of Sedan, +and as the tempest-tortured battle-ship drove seaward the signals went +up: "Make for Brest!" The blockade of the German coast was at an +end. + +On the 4th of September the treasure-laden trains had left Paris for +Brest. On the 5th the _Hirondelle_ steamed out towards the fleet with +the news from Sedan and the orders for the detachment of a cruiser to +receive the crown jewels. On the 6th the news and the orders were +signalled to the flag-ship; but the God of battles unchained a tempest +which countermanded the order and hurled the iron-clads into outer +darkness. + +Some of the ships crept into English ports, burning their last lumps +of coal, some drifted into Dunkerque; but the flag-ship disappeared +for nine long days, at last to reappear off Cherbourg, a stricken +thing with a stricken crew and an admiral broken-hearted. + +So, for days and days, the treasure-laden trains must have stood +helpless in the station at Brest, awaiting the cruiser that did not +come. + +On the 17th of September the French Channel squadron, of seven heavy +iron-clads, unexpectedly steamed into Lorient harbor and dropped +anchor amid thundering salutes from the forts; and the next day one of +the treasure-trains came flying into Lorient, to the unspeakable +relief of the authorities in the beleaguered capital. + +Speed and I already knew the secret orders sent. The treasures, +including the crown diamonds, were to be stored in the citadel, and an +armored cruiser was to lie off the arsenal with banked fires, ready to +receive the treasures at the first signal and steam to the French +fortified port of Saïgon in Cochin China, by a course already +determined. + +Why on earth those orders had been changed so that the cruiser was to +lie off Groix I could not imagine, unless some plot had been +discovered in Lorient which had made it advisable to shift the +location of the treasures for the third time. + +Pondering there at the tent door, amid my heap of musty newspapers, I +looked out into the late, gray afternoon and saw the maids of Paradise +passing and repassing across the bridge with a clicking of wooden +shoes and white head-dresses glimmering in the dusk of the trees. + +The town had filled within a day or two; the Paradise coiffe was not +the only coiffe to be seen in the square; there was the +delicate-winged head-dress of Faöuet, the beautiful coiffes of +Rosporden, Sainte-Anne d'Auray, and Pont Aven; there, too, flashed the +scarlet skirts of Bannalec and the gorgeous embroidered bodices of the +interior; there were the men of Quimperlé in velvet, the men of +Penmarch, the men of Faöuet with their dark, Spanish-like faces and +their sombreros, and their short yellow jackets and leggings. All in +holiday costume, too, for the maids were stiff in silver and lace, and +the men wore carved sabots and embroidered gilets. + +"Governor," I called out to Byram, "the town is filling fast. It's +like a Pardon in Morbihan; we'll pack the old tent to the +nigger's-heaven!" + +"It's a fact," he said, pushing his glasses up over his forehead and +fanning his face with his silk hat. "We're going to open to a lot of +money, Mr. Scarlett, and ... I ain't goin' to forgit them that stood +by me, neither." + +He placed a heavy hand on my shoulder, and, stooping, peered into my +face. + +"Air you sick, m' friend?" he asked. + +"I, governor? Why, no." + +"Ain't been bit by that there paltry camuel nor nothin', hev ye?" + +"No; do I look ill?" + +"Peaked--kind o' peaked. White, with dark succles under your eyes. +Air you nervous?" + +"About the lions? Oh no. Don't worry about me, governor." + +He sighed, adjusted his spectacles, and blew his nose. + +"Mr. Speed--he's worriting, too; he says that Empress Khatoun means +to hev ye one o' these days." + +"You tell Mr. Speed to worry over his own affairs--that child, +Jacqueline, for instance. I suppose she made her jump without trouble +to-day? I was too nervous to stay and watch her." + +"M' friend," said Byram, in solemn ecstasy, "I take off my hat to +that there kid!" And he did so with a flourish. "You orter seen her; +she hung on that flying trap, jest as easy an' sassy! We was all half +crazy. Speed he grew blue around the gills; Miss Crystal, a-swingin' +there in the riggin' by her knees, kept a swallerin' an' lickin' her +lips, she was that scared. + +"'Ready?' she calls out in a sort o' quaver. + +"'Ready!' sez little Jacqueline, cool as ice, swingin' by her knees. +'Go!' sez Miss Crystal, an' the kid let go, an' Miss Crystal grabbed +her by the ankles. 'Ready?' calls up Speed, beside the tank. + +"'Ready!' sez the kid, smilin'. 'Drop!' cries Speed. An' Jacqueline +shot down like a blazing star--whir! swish! splash! All over! An' that +there nervy kid a floatin' an' a sportin' like a minnie-fish at +t'other end o' the tank! Oh, gosh, but it was grand! It was jest--" + +Speech failed; he walked away, waving his arms, his rusty silk hat on +the back of his head. + +A few moments later drums began to roll from the square. Speed, +passing, called out to me that the conscripts were leaving for +Lorient; so I walked down to the bridge, where the crowd had gathered +and where a tall gendarme stood, his blue-and-white uniform distinct +in the early evening light. The mayor was there, too, dressed in his +best, waddling excitedly about, and buttonholing at intervals a young +lieutenant of infantry, who appeared to be extremely bored. + +There were the conscripts of the Garde Mobile, an anxious peasant +rabble, awkward, resigned, docile as cattle. Here stood a farmer, +reeking of his barnyard; here two woodsmen from the forest, belted and +lean; but the majority were men of the sea, heavy-limbed, sun-scorched +fellows, with little, keen eyes always half closed, and big, helpless +fists hanging. Some carried their packets slung from hip to shoulder, +some tied their parcels to the muzzles of their obsolete muskets. A +number wore the boatman's smock, others the farmer's blouse of linen, +but the greater number were clad in the blue-wool jersey and cloth +béret of the sailor. + +Husbands, sons, lovers, looked silently at the women. The men uttered +no protest, no reproach; the women wept very quietly. In their hearts +that strange mysticism of the race predominated--the hopeless +acceptance of a destiny which has, for centuries, left its imprint in +the sad eyes of the Breton. Generations of martyrdom leave a cowed and +spiritually fatigued race which breeds stoics. + +Like great white blossoms, the spotless head-dresses of the maids of +Paradise swayed and bowed above the crowd. + +A little old woman stood beside a sailor, saying to anybody who would +listen to her: "My son--they are taking my son. Why should they take +my son?" + +Another said: "They are taking mine, too, but he cannot fight on +land. He knows the sea; he is not afraid at sea. Can nobody help us? +He cannot fight on land; he does not know how!" + +A woman carrying a sleeping baby stood beside the drummers at the +fountain. Five children dragged at her skirts and peered up at the +mayor, who shrugged his shoulders and shook his fat head. + +"What can I do? He must march with the others, your man," said the +mayor, again and again. But the woman with the baby never ceased her +eternal question: "What can we live on if you take him? I do not mean +to complain too much, but we have nothing. What can we live on, m'sieu +the mayor?" + +But now the drummers had stepped out into the centre of the square and +were drawing their drum-sticks from the brass sockets in their +baldricks. + +"Good-bye! Good-bye!" sobbed the maids of Paradise, giving both hands +to their lovers. "We will pray for you!" + +"Pray for us," said the men, holding their sweethearts' hands. + +"Attention!" cried the officer, a slim, hectic lieutenant from +Lorient. + +The mayor handed him the rolls, and the lieutenant, facing the +shuffling single rank, began to call off: + +"Roux of Bannalec?" + +"Here, monsieur--" + +"Don't say, 'Here, monsieur!' Say, 'Present!' Now, Roux?" + +"Present, monsieur--" + +"Idiot! Kedrec?" + +"Present!" + +"That's right! Penmarch?" + +"Present!" + +"Rhuis of Sainte-Yssel?" + +"Present!" + +"Hervé of Paradise Beacon?" + +"Present!" + +"Laenec?" + +"Present!" + +"Duhamel?" + +"Present!" + +The officer moistened his lips, turned the page, and continued: + +"Carnac of Alincourt?" + +There was a silence, then a voice cried, "Crippled!" + +"Mark him off, lieutenant," said the mayor, pompously; "he's our +little hunchback." + +"Shall I mark you in his place?" asked the lieutenant, with a smile +that turned the mayor's blood to water. "No? You would make a fine +figure for a forlorn hope." + +A man burst out laughing, but he was half crazed with grief, and his +acrid mirth found no response. Then the roll-call was resumed: + +"Gestel?" + +"Present!" + +"Garenne!" + +There was another silence. + +"Robert Garenne!" repeated the officer, sharply. "Monsieur the mayor +has informed me that you are liable for military duty. If you are +present, answer to your name or take the consequences!" + +The poacher, who had been lounging on the bridge, slouched slowly +forward and touched his cap. + +"I am organizing a franc corps," he said, with a deadly sidelong +glance at the mayor, who now stood beside the lieutenant. + +"You can explain that at Lorient," replied the lieutenant. "Fall in +there!" + +"But I--" + +"Fall in!" repeated the lieutenant. + +The poacher's visage became inflamed. He hesitated, looking around for +an avenue of escape. Then he caught my disgusted eye. + +"For the last time," said the lieutenant, coolly drawing his +revolver, "I order you to fall in!" + +The poacher backed into the straggling rank, glaring. + +"Now," said the lieutenant, "you may go to your house and get your +packet. If we have left when you return, follow and report at the +arsenal in Lorient. Fall out! March!" + +The poacher backed out to the rear of the rank, turned on his heel, +and strode away towards the coast, clinched fists swinging by his +side. + +There were not many names on the roll, and the call was quickly +finished. And now the infantry drummers raised their sticks high in +the air, there was a sharp click, a crash, and the square echoed. + +"March!" cried the officer; and, drummers ahead, the long single rank +shuffled into fours, and the column started, enveloped in a throng of +women and children. + +"Good-bye!" sobbed the women. "We will pray!" + +"Good-bye! Pray!" + +The crowd pressed on into the dusk. Far up the darkening road the +white coiffes of the women glimmered; the drum-roll softened to a +distant humming. + +The children, who did not understand, had gathered around a hunchback, +the exempt cripple of the roll-call. + +"Ho! Fois!" I heard him say to the crowd of wondering little ones, +"if I were not exempt I'd teach these Prussians to dance the +farandole to my biniou! Oui, dame! And perhaps I'll do it yet, spite +of the crooked back I was not born with--as everybody knows! Oui, +dame! Everybody knows I was born as straight as the next man!" + +The children gaped, listening to the distant drumming, now almost +inaudible. + +The cripple rose, lighted a lantern, and walked slowly out toward the +cliffs, carrying himself with that uncanny dignity peculiar to +hunchbacks. And as he walked he sang, in his thin, sharp voice, the +air of "The Three Captains": + + "J'ai eu dans son coeur la plac' la plus belle, + La plac' la plus belle. + J'ai passé trois ans, trois ans avec elle, + Trois ans avec elle. + J'ai eu trois enfants qui sont capitaines, + Qui sont capitaines. + L'un est à Bordeaux, l'autre à la Rochelle, + L'autre à la Rochelle. + Le troisième ici, caressent les belles, + Caressent les belles." + +Far out across the shadowy cliffs I heard his lingering, strident +chant, and caught the spark of his lantern; then silence and darkness +fell over the deserted square; the awed children, fingers interlocked, +crept homeward through the dusk; there was no sound save the rippling +wash of the river along the quay of stone. + +Tired, a trifle sad, thinking perhaps of those home letters which had +come to all save me, I leaned against the river wall, staring at the +darkness; and over me came creeping that apathy which I had already +learned to recognize and even welcome as a mental anæsthetic which set +that dark sentinel, care, a-drowsing. + +What did I care, after all? Life had stopped for me years before; +there was left only a shell in which that unseen little trickster, the +heart, kept tap-tapping away against a tired body. Was that what we +call life? The sorry parody! + +A shape slunk near me through the dusk, furtive, uncertain. "Lizard," +I said, indifferently. He came up, my gun on his ragged shoulder. + +"You go with your class?" I asked. + +"No, I go to the forest," he said, hoarsely. "You shall hear from +me." + +I nodded. + +"Are you content?" he demanded, lingering. + +The creature wanted sympathy, though he did not know it. I gave him my +hand and told him he was a brave man; and he went away, noiselessly, +leaving me musing by the river wall. + +After a long while--or it may only have been a few minutes--the square +began to fill again with the first groups of women, children, and old +men who had escorted the departing conscripts a little way on their +march to Lorient. Back they came, the maids of Paradise silent, +tearful, pitifully acquiescent; the women of Bannalec, Faöuet, +Rosporden, Quimperlé chattering excitedly about the scene they had +witnessed. The square began to fill; lanterns were lighted around the +fountain; the two big lamps with their brass reflectors in front of +the mayor's house illuminated the pavement and the thin tree-foliage +with a yellow radiance. + +The chatter grew louder as new groups in all sorts of gay head-dresses +arrived; laughter began to be heard; presently the squealing of the +biniou pipes broke out from the bowling-green, where, high on a bench +supported by a plank laid across two cider barrels, the hunchback sat, +skirling the farandole. Ah, what a world entire was this lost little +hamlet of Paradise, where merrymakers trod on the mourners' heels, +where the scream of the biniou drowned the floating note of the +passing bell, where Misery drew the curtains of her bed and lay +sleepless, listening to Gayety dancing breathless to the patter of a +coquette's wooden shoes! + +Long tables were improvised in the square, piled up with bread, +sardines, puddings, hams, and cakes. Casks of cider, propped on skids, +dotted the outskirts of the bowling-green, where the mayor, enthroned +in his own arm-chair, majestically gave his orders in a voice +thickened by pork, onions, and gravy. + +Truly enough, half of Finistère and Morbihan was gathering at Paradise +for a fête. The slow Breton imagination had been fired by our circus +bills and posters; ancient Armorica was stirring in her slumber, +roused to consciousness by the Yankee bill-poster. + +At the inn all rooms were taken; every house had become an inn; barns, +stables, granaries had their guests; fishermen's huts on coast and +cliff were bright with coiffes and embroidered jerseys. + +In their misfortune, the lonely women of Paradise recognized in this +influx a godsend--a few francs to gain with which to face those coming +wintry months while their men were absent. And they opened their tiny +houses to those who asked a lodging. + +The crowds which had earlier in the evening gathered to gape at our +big tent were now noisiest in the square, where the endless drone of +the pipes intoned the farandole. + +A few of our circus folk had come down to enjoy the picturesque +spectacle. Speed, standing with Jacqueline beside me, began to laugh +and beat time to the wild music. A pretty maid of Bannalec, white +coiffe and scarlet skirts a-flutter, called out with the broad freedom +of the chastest of nations: "There is the lover I could pray for--if +he can dance the farandole!" + +"I'll show you whether I can dance the farandole, ma belle!" cried +Speed, and caught her hand, but she snatched her brown fingers away +and danced off, laughing: "He who loves must follow, follow, follow +the farandole!" + +Speed started to follow, but Jacqueline laid a timid hand on his arm. + +"I dance, M'sieu Speed," she said, her face flushing under her +elf-locks. + +"You blessed child," he cried, "you shall dance till you drop to +your knees on the bowling-green!" And, hand clasping hand, they swung +out into the farandole. For an instant only I caught a glimpse of +Jacqueline's blissful face, and her eyes like blue stars burning; then +they darkened into silhouettes against the yellow glare of the +lanterns and vanished. + +Byram rambled up for a moment, to comment on the quaint scene from a +showman's point of view. "It would fill the tent in old Noo York, but +it's n. g. in this here country, where everybody's either a coryphee +or a clown or a pantaloon! Camuels ain't no rara avises in the Sairy, +an' no niggers go to burnt-cork shows. Phylosophy is the thing, Mr. +Scarlett! Ruminate! Ruminate!" + +I promised to do so, and the old man rambled away, coat and vest on +his arm, silk hat cocked over his left eye, the lamp-light shining on +the buckles of his suspenders. Dear old governor!--dear, vulgar +incarnation of those fast vanishing pioneers who invented +civilization, finding none; who, self-taught, unashamed taught their +children the only truths they knew, that the nation was worthy of all +good, all devotion, and all knowledge that her sons could bring her to +her glory that she might one day fulfil her destiny as greatest among +the great on earth. + +The whining Breton bagpipe droned in my ears; the dancers flew past; +laughter and cries arose from the tables in the square where the +curate of St. Julien stood, forefinger wagging, soundly rating an +intoxicated but apologetic Breton in the costume of Faöuet. + +I was tired--tired of it all; weary of costumes and strange customs, +weary of strange tongues, of tinsel and mummers, and tarnished finery; +sick of the sawdust and the rank stench of beasts--and the vagabond +life--and the hopeless end of it all--the shabby end of a useless +life--a death at last amid strangers! Soldiers in red breeches, +peasants in embroidered jackets, strolling mountebanks all tinselled +and rouged--they were all one to me.... I wanted my own land.... I +wanted my own people.... I wanted to go home ... home!--and die, when +my time came, under the skies I knew as a child,... under that +familiar moon which once silvered my nursery windows.... + +I turned away across the bridge out into the dark road. Long before I +came to the smoky, silent camp I heard the monotonous roaring of my +lions, pacing their shadowy dens. + + + + +XVII + +THE CIRCUS + + +A little after sunrise on the day set for our first performance, Speed +sauntered into my dressing-room in excellent humor, saying that not +only had the village of Paradise already filled up with the peasantry +of Finistère and Morbihan, but every outlying hamlet from St. Julien +to Pont Aven was overflowing; that many had even camped last night +along the roadside; in short, that the country was unmistakably +aroused to the importance of the Anti-Prussian Republican circus and +the Flying Mermaid of Ker-Ys. + +I listened to him almost indifferently, saying that I was very glad +for the governor's sake, and continued to wash a deep scratch on my +left arm, using salt water to allay the irritation left by Aïcha's +closely pared claws--the vixen. + +But the scratch had not poisoned me; I was in fine physical condition; +rehearsals had kept us all in trim; our animals, too, were in good +shape; and the machinery started without a creak when, an hour later, +Byram himself opened the box-office at the tent-door and began to sell +tickets to an immense crowd for the first performance, which was set +for two o'clock that afternoon. + +I had had an unpleasant hour's work with the lions, during which +Marghouz, a beast hitherto lazy and docile, had attempted to creep +behind me. Again I had betrayed irritation; again the lions saw it, +understood it, and remembered. Aïcha tore my sleeve; when I dragged +Timour Melek's huge jaws apart he endured the operation patiently, but +as soon as I gave the signal to retire he sprang snarling to the +floor, mane on end, and held his ground, just long enough to defy me. +Poor devils! Who but I knew that they were right and I was wrong! Who +but I understood what lack of freedom meant to the strong--meant to +caged creatures, unrighteously deprived of liberty! Though born in +captivity, wild things change nothing; they sleep by day, walk by +night, follow as well as they can the instincts which a caged life +cannot crush in them, nor a miserable, artificial existence +obliterate. + +They are right to resist. + +I mentioned something of this to Speed as I was putting on my coat to +go out, but he only scowled at me, saying: "Your usefulness as a +lion-tamer is ended, my friend; you are a fool to enter that cage +again, and I'm going to tell Byram." + +"Don't spoil the governor's pleasure now," I said, irritably; "the +old man is out there selling tickets with both hands, while little +Griggs counts receipts in a stage whisper. Let him alone, Speed; I'm +going to give it up soon, anyway--not now--not while the governor has +a chance to make a little money; but soon--very soon. You are right; I +can't control anything now--not even myself. I must give up my lions, +after all." + +"When?" said Speed. + +"Soon--I don't know. I'm tired--really tired. I want to go home." + +"Home! Have you one?" he asked, with a faint sneer of surprise. + +"Yes; a rather extensive lodging, bounded east and west by two +oceans, north by the lakes, south by the gulf. Landlord's a +relation--my Uncle Sam." + +"Are you really going home, Scarlett?" he asked, curiously. + +"I have nothing to keep me here, have I?" + +"Not unless you choose to settle down and ... marry." + +I looked at him; presently my face began to redden; and, "What do you +mean?" I asked, angrily. + +He replied, in a very mild voice, that he did not mean anything that +might irritate me. + +I said, "Speed, don't mind my temper; I can't seem to help it any +more; something has changed me, something has gone wrong." + +"Perhaps something has gone right," he mused, looking up at the +flying trapeze, where Jacqueline swung dangling above the tank, +watching us with sea-blue eyes. + +After a moment's thought I said: "Speed, what the devil do you mean +by that remark?" + +"Now you're angry again," he said, wearily. + +"No, I'm not. Tell me what you mean." + +"Oh, what do you imagine I mean?" he retorted. "Do you think I'm +blind? Do you suppose I've watched you all these years and don't know +you? Am I an ass, Scarlett? Be fair; am I?" + +"No; not an ass," I said. + +"Then let me alone--unless you want plain speaking instead of a +bray." + +"I do want it." + +"Which?" + +"You know; go on." + +"Am I to tell you the truth?" + +"As you interpret it--yes." + +"Very well, my friend; then, at your respectful request, I beg to +inform you that you are in love with Madame de Vassart--and have been +for months." + +I did not pretend surprise; I knew he was going to say it. Yet it +enraged me that he should think it and say it. + +"You are wrong," I said, steadily. + +"No, Scarlett; I am right." + +"You are wrong," I repeated. + +"Don't say that again," he retorted. "If you do not know it, you +ought to. Don't be unfair; don't be cowardly. Face it, man! By Heaven, +you've got to face it some time--here, yonder, abroad, on the ocean, +at home--no matter where, you've got to face it some day and tell +yourself the truth!" + +His words hurt me for a moment; then, as I listened, that strange +apathy once more began to creep over me. Was it really the truth he +had told me? Was it? Well--and then? What meaning had it to me?... Of +what help was it?... of what portent?... of what use?... What door did +it unlock? Surely not the door I had closed upon myself so many years +ago! + +Something of my thoughts he may have divined as I stood brooding in +the sunny tent, staring listlessly at my own shadow on the floor, for +he laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "Surely, Scarlett, if +happiness can be reborn in Paradise, it can be reborn here. I know +you; I have known you for many years. And in all that time you have +never fallen below my ideal!" + +"What are you saying, Speed?" I asked, rousing from my lethargy to +shake his hand from my shoulder. + +"The truth. In all these years of intimacy, familiarity has never +bred contempt in me; I am not your equal in anything; it does not hurt +me to say so. I have watched you as a younger brother watches, +lovingly, jealous yet proud of you, alert for a failing or a weakness +which I never found--or, if I thought I found a flaw in you, knowing +that it was but part of a character too strong, too generous for me to +criticise." + +"Speed," I said, astonished, "are you talking about me--about +_me_--a mountebank--and a failure at that? You know I'm a failure--a +nobody--" I hesitated, touched by his kindness. "Your loyalty to me +is all I have. I wish it were true that I am such a man as you believe +me to be." + +"It is true," he said, almost sullenly. "If it were not, no man +would say it of you--though a woman might. Listen to me, Scarlett. I +tell you that a man shipwrecked on the world's outer rocks--if he does +not perish--makes the better pilot afterwards." + +"But ... I perished, Speed." + +"It is not true," he said, violently; "but you will if you don't +steer a truer course than you have. Scarlett, answer me!" + +"Answer you? What?" + +"Are you in love?" + +"Yes," I said. + +He waited, looked up at me, then dropped his hands in his pockets and +turned away toward the interior of the tent where Jacqueline, having +descended from the rigging, stood, drawing her slim fingers across the +surface of the water in the tank. + +I walked out through the tent door, threading my way among the curious +crowds gathered not only at the box-office, but even around the great +tent as far as I could see. Byram hailed me with jovial abandon, +perspiring in his shirt-sleeves, silk hat on the back of his head; +little Grigg made one of his most admired grimaces and shook the heavy +money-box at me; Horan waved his hat above his head and pointed at the +throng with a huge thumb. I smiled at them all and walked on. + +Cloud and sunshine alternated on that capricious November morning; the +sea-wind was warm; the tincture of winter had gone. On that day, +however, I saw wavering strings of wild ducks flying south; and the +little hedge-birds of different kinds were already flocking amiably +together in twittering bands that filled the leafless blackthorns on +the cliffs;--true prophets, all, of that distant cold, gathering +somewhere in the violet north. + +I walked fast across the moors, as though I had a destination. And I +had; yet when I understood it I sheered off, only to turn again and +stare fascinated in the direction of the object that frightened me. + +There it rose against the seaward cliffs, the little tower of Trécourt +farm, sea-smitten and crusted, wind-worn, stained, gray as the +lichened rocks scattered across the moorland. Over it the white gulls +pitched and tossed in a windy sky; beyond crawled the ancient and +wrinkled sea. + +"It is a strange thing," I said aloud, "to find love at the world's +edge." I looked blindly across the gray waste. "But I have found it +too late." + +The wind blew furiously; I heard the gulls squealing in the sky, the +far thunder of the surf. + +Then, looking seaward again, for the first time I noticed that the +black cruiser was gone, that nothing now lay between the cliffs and +the hazy headland of Groix save a sheet of lonely water spreading +league on league to meet a flat, gray sky. + +Why had the cruiser sailed? As I stood there, brooding, to my numbed +ears the moor-winds bore a sound coming from a great distance--the +sound of cannon--little, soft reports, all but inaudible in the wind +and the humming undertone of the breakers. Yet I knew the sound, and +turned my unquiet eyes to the sea, where nothing moved save the far +crests of waves. + +For a while I stood listening, searching the sea, until a voice hailed +me, and I turned to find Kelly Eyre almost at my elbow. + +"There is a man in the village haranguing the people," he said, +abruptly. "We thought you ought to know." + +"A man haranguing the people," I repeated. "What of it?" + +"Speed thinks the man is Buckhurst." + +"What!" I cried. + +"There's something else, too," he said, soberly, and drew a telegram +from his pocket. + +I seized it, and studied the fluttering sheet: + + "The governor of Lorient, on complaint of the mayor of + Paradise, forbids the American exhibition, and orders + the individual Byram to travel immediately to Lorient + with his so-called circus, where a British steamship + will transport the personnel, baggage, and animals to + British territory. The mayor of Paradise will see that + this order of expulsion is promptly executed. + + "(Signed) Breteuil. + "Chief of Police." + +"Where did you get that telegram?" I asked. + +"It's a copy; the mayor came with it. Byram does not know about it." + +"Don't let him know it!" I said, quickly; "this thing will kill him, +I believe. Where is that fool of a mayor? Come on, Kelly! Stay close +beside me." And I set off at a swinging pace, down the hollow, out +across the left bank of the little river, straight to the bridge, +which we reached almost on a run. + +"Look there!" cried my companion, as we came in sight of the square. + +The square was packed with Breton peasants; near the fountain two +cider barrels had been placed, a plank thrown across them, and on this +plank stood a man holding a red flag. + +The man was John Buckhurst. + +When I came nearer I could see that he wore a red scarf across his +breast; a little nearer and I could hear his passionless voice +sounding; nearer still, I could distinguish every clear-cut word: + +"Men of the sea, men of that ancient Armorica which, for a thousand +years, has suffered serfdom, I come to you bearing no sword. You need +none; you are free under this red flag I raise above you." + +He lifted the banner, shaking out the red folds. + +"Yet if I come to you bearing no sword, I come with something better, +something more powerful, something so resistless that, using it as +your battle-cry, the world is yours! + +"I come bearing the watchword of world-brotherhood--Peace, Love, +Equality! I bear it from your battle-driven brothers, scourged to the +battlements of Paris by the demons of a wicked government! I bear it +from the devastated towns of the provinces, from your homeless +brothers of Alsace and Lorraine. + +"Peace, Love, Equality! All this is yours for the asking. The commune +will be proclaimed throughout France; Paris is aroused, Lyons is +ready, Bordeaux watches, Marseilles waits! + +"You call your village Paradise--yet you starve here. Let this little +Breton village be a paradise in truth--a shrine for future happy +pilgrims who shall say: 'Here first were sewn the seeds of the world's +liberty! Here first bloomed the perfect flower of universal +brotherhood!" + +He bent his sleek, gray head meekly, pausing as though in profound +meditation. Suddenly he raised his head; his tone changed; a faint +ring of defiance sounded under the smooth flow of words. + +He began with a blasphemous comparison, alluding to the money-changers +in the temple--a subtle appeal to righteous violence. + +"It rests with us to cleanse the broad temple of our country and +drive from it the thieves and traitors who enslave us! How can we do +it? They are strong; we are weak. Ah, but _are_ they truly strong? +You say they have armies? Armies are composed of men. These men are +your brothers, whipped forth to die--for what? For the pleasure of a +few aristocrats. Who was it dragged your husbands and sons away from +your arms, leaving you to starve? The governor of Lorient. Who is he? +An aristocrat, paid to scourge your husbands and children to +battle--paid, perhaps, by Prussia to betray them, too!" + +A low murmur rose from the people. Buckhurst swept the throng with +colorless eyes. + +"Under the commune we will have peace. Why? Because there can be no +hunger, no distress, no homeless ones where the wealth of all is +distributed equally. We will have no wars, because there will be +nothing to fight for. We will have no aristocrats where all must labor +for the common good; where all land is equally divided; where love, +equality, and brotherhood are the only laws--" + +"Where's the mayor?" I whispered to Eyre. + +"In his house; Speed is with him." + +"Come on, then," I said, pushing my way around the outskirts of the +crowd to the mayor's house. + +The door was shut and the blinds drawn, but a knock brought Speed to +the door, revolver in hand. + +"Oh," he said, grimly, "it's time you arrived. Come in." + +The mayor was lying in his arm-chair, frightened, sulky, obstinate, +his fat form swathed in a red sash. + +"O-ho!" I said, sharply, "so you already wear the colors of the +revolution, do you?" + +"Dame, they tied it over my waistcoat," he said, "and there are no +gendarmes to help me arrest them--" + +"Never mind that just now," I interrupted; "what I want to know is +why you wrote the governor of Lorient to expel our circus." + +"That's my own affair," he snapped; "besides, who said I wrote?" + +"Idiot," I said, "somebody paid you to do it. Who was it?" + +The mayor, hunched up in his chair, shut his mouth obstinately. + +"Somebody paid you," I repeated; "you would never have complained of +us unless somebody paid you, because our circus is bringing money into +your village. Come, my friend, that was easy to guess. Now let me +guess again that Buckhurst paid you to complain of us." + +The mayor looked slyly at me out of the corner of his mottled eyes, +but he remained mute. + +"Very well," said I; "when the troops from Lorient hear of this +revolution in Paradise, they'll come and chase these communards into +the sea. And after that they'll stand you up against a convenient wall +and give you thirty seconds for absolution--" + +"Stop!" burst out the mayor, struggling to his feet. "What am I to +do? This gentleman, Monsieur Buckhurst, will slay me if I disobey him! +Besides," he added, with cowardly cunning, "they are going to do the +same thing in Lorient, too--and everywhere--in Paris, in Bordeaux, in +Marseilles--even in Quimperlé! And when all these cities are flying +the red flag it won't be comfortable for cities that fly the +tricolor." He began to bluster. "I'm mayor of Paradise, and I won't +be bullied! You get out of here with your circus and your foolish +elephants! I haven't any gendarmes just now to drive you out, but you +had better start, all the same--before night." + +"Oh," I said, "before night? Why before night?" + +"Wait and see then," he muttered. "Anyway, get out of my house--d' +ye hear?" + +"We are going to give that performance at two o'clock this +afternoon," I said. "After that, another to-morrow at the same hour, +and on every day at the same hour, as long as it pays. Do you +understand?" + +"Perfectly," sneered the mayor. + +"And," I continued, "if the governor of Lorient sends gendarmes to +conduct us to the steamship in Lorient harbor, they'll take with them +somebody besides the circus folk." + +"You mean me?" he inquired. + +"I do." + +"What do I care?" he bawled in a fury. "You had better go to +Lorient, I tell you. What do you know about the commune? What do you +know about universal brotherhood? Everybody's everybody's brother, +whether you like it or not! I'm your brother, and if it doesn't suit +you you may go to the devil!" + +Watching the infuriated magistrate, I said in English to Speed: "This +is interesting. Buckhurst has learned we are here, and has paid this +fellow heavily to have us expelled. What sense do you make of all +this?--for I can make none." + +"Nor can I," muttered Speed; "there's a link gone; we'll find it +soon, I fancy. Without that link there's no logic in this matter." + +"Look here," I said, sharply, to the mayor, who had waddled toward +the door, which was guarded by Kelly Eyre. + +"Well, I'm looking," he snarled. + +Then I patiently pointed out to him his folly, and he listened with +ill-grace, obstinate, mute, dull cunning gleaming from his half-closed +eyes. + +Then I asked him what he would do if the cruiser began dropping shells +into Paradise; he deliberately winked at me and thrust his tongue into +his cheek. + +"So you know that the cruiser has gone?" I asked. + +He grinned. + +"Do you suppose Buckhurst's men hold the semaphore? If they do, they +sent that cruiser on a fool's errand," whispered Speed. + +Here was a nice plot! I stepped to the window. Outside in the square +Buckhurst was still speaking to a spellbound, gaping throng. A few men +cheered him. They were strangers in Paradise. + +"What's he doing it for?" I asked, utterly at a loss to account for +proceedings which seemed to me the acme of folly. "He must know that +the commune cannot be started here in Brittany! Speed, what is that +man up to?" + +Behind us the mayor was angrily demanding that we leave his house; and +after a while we did so, skirting the crowd once more to where, in a +cleared space near the fountain, Buckhurst stood, red flag in hand, +ranging a dozen peasants in line. The peasants were not Paradise men; +they wore the costumes of the interior, and somebody had already armed +them with scythes, rusty boarding-pikes, stable-forks, and one or two +flintlock muskets. An evil-looking crew, if ever I saw one; wild-eyed, +long-haired, bare of knee and ankle, loutish faces turned toward the +slim, gray, pale-faced orator who confronted them, flag in hand. They +were the scum of Morbihan. + +He told them that they were his guard of honor, the glory of their +race--a sacred battalion whose names should shine high on the +imperishable battlements of freedom. + +Around them the calm-eyed peasants stared at them stupidly; women +gazed fascinated when Buckhurst, raising his flag, pointed in silence +to the mayor's house, where that official stood in his doorway, +observing the scene: + +"Forward!" said Buckhurst, and the grotesque escort started with a +clatter of heavy sabots and a rattle of scythes. The crowd fell back +to give them way, then closed in behind like a herd of sheep, +following to the mayor's house, where Buckhurst set his sentinels and +then entered, closing the door behind him. + +"Well!" muttered Speed, in amazement. + +After a long silence, Kelly Eyre looked at his watch. "It's time we +were in the tent," he observed, dryly; and we turned away without a +word. At the bridge we stopped and looked back. The red flag was +flying from the mayor's house. + +"Speed," I said, "there's one thing certain: Byram can't stay if +there's going to be fighting here. I heard guns at sea this morning; I +don't know what that may indicate. And here's this idiotic revolution +started in Paradise! That means the troops from Lorient, and a +wretched lot of bushwhacking and guerrilla work. Those Faöuet Bretons +that Buckhurst has recruited are a bad lot; there is going to be +trouble, I tell you." + +Eyre suggested that we arm our circus people, and Speed promised to +attend to it and to post them at the tent doors, ready to resist any +interference with the performance on the part of Buckhurst's +recruits. + +It was already nearly one o'clock as we threaded our way through the +crowds at the entrance, where our band was playing gayly and thousands +of white head-dresses fluttered in the sparkling sunshine that poured +intermittently from a sky where great white clouds were sailing +seaward. + +"Walk right up, messoors! Entry done, mesdames, see voo play!" +shouted Byram, waving a handful of red and blue tickets. "Animals all +on view before the performance begins! Walk right into the corridor of +livin' marvels and defunct curiosities! Bring the little ones to see +the elephant an' the camuel--the fleet ship of the Sairy! Don't miss +nothing! Don't fail to contemplate le ploo magnifique spectacle in +all Europe! Don't let nobody say you died an' never saw the only +Flyin' Mermaid! An' don't forget the prize--ten thousand francs to the +man, woman, or che-ild who can prove that this here Flyin' Mermaid +ain't a fictious bein' straight from Paradise!" + +Speed and I made our way slowly through the crush to the stables, then +around to the dressing-rooms, where little Grigg, in his spotted +clown's costume, was putting the last touches of vermilion to his +white cheeks, and Horan, draped in a mangy leopard-skin to imitate +Hercules, sat on his two-thousand-pound dumbbell, curling his shiny +black mustache with Mrs. Grigg's iron. + +"Jacqueline's dressed," cried Miss Crystal, parting the curtain of +her dressing-room, just enough to show her pretty, excited eyes and +nose. + +"All right; I won't be long," replied Speed, who was to act as +ring-master. And he turned and looked at me as I raised the canvas +flap which screened my dressing-room. + +"I think," I said, "that we had better ride over to Trécourt after +the show--not that there's any immediate danger--" + +"There is no immediate danger," said Speed, "because she is here." + +My face began to burn; I looked at him miserably. "How do you know?" + +"She is there in the tent. I saw her." + +He came up and held his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry I told you," +he said. + +"Why?" I asked. "She knows what I am. Is there any reason why she +should not be amused? I promise you she shall be!" + +"Then why do you speak so bitterly? Don't misconstrue her presence. +Don't be a contemptible fool. If I have read her face--and I have +never spoken to her, as you know--I tell you, Scarlett, that young +girl is going through an ordeal! Do women of that kind come to shows +like this to be amused?" + +"What do you mean?" I said, angrily. + +"I mean that she _could_ not keep away! And I tell you to be careful +with your lions, to spare her any recklessness on your part, to finish +as soon as you can, and get out of that cursed cage. If you don't +you're a coward, and a selfish one at that!" + +His words were like a blow in the face; I stared at him, too confused +even for anger. + +"Oh, you fool, you fool!" he said, in a low voice. "She cares for +you; can't you understand?" + +And he turned on his heel, leaving me speechless. + +I do not remember dressing. When I came out into the passageway Byram +beckoned me, and pointed at a crack in the canvas through which one +could see the interior of the amphitheatre. A mellow light flooded the +great tent; spots of sunshine fell on the fresh tan-bark, where long, +luminous, dusty beams slanted from the ridge-pole athwart the golden +gloom. + +Tier on tier the wooden benches rose, packed with women in brilliant +holiday dress, with men gorgeous in silver and velvet, with children +decked in lace and gilt chains. The air was filled with the starched +rustle of white coiffes and stiff collarettes; a low, incessant +clatter of sabots sounded from gallery to arena; gusts of breathless +whispering passed like capricious breezes blowing, then died out in +the hush which fell as our band-master, McCadger, raised his wand and +the band burst into "Dixie." + +At that the great canvas flaps over the stable entrance slowly parted +and the scarlet-draped head of Djebe, the elephant, appeared. On he +came, amid a rising roar of approval, Speed in gorgeous robes perched +on high, ankus raised. After him came the camel, all over tassels and +gold net, bestridden by Kelly Eyre, wearing a costume seldom seen +anywhere, and never in the Sahara. White horses, piebald horses, and +cream-colored horses pranced in the camel's wake, dragging assorted +chariots tenanted by gentlemen in togas; pretty little Mrs. Grigg, in +habit and scarlet jacket, followed on Briza, the white mare; Horan +came next, driving more horses; the dens of ferocious beasts creaked +after, guarded by a phalanx of stalwart stablemen in plumes and armor; +then Miss Crystal, driving zebras to a gilt chariot; then more men in +togas, leading monkeys mounted on ponies; and finally Mrs. Horan +seated on a huge egg drawn by ostriches. + +Once only they circled the sawdust ring; then the band stopped, the +last of the procession disappeared, the clown came shrieking and +tumbling out into the arena with his "Here we are again!" + +And the show was on. + +I stood in the shadow of the stable-tent, dressed in my frock-coat, +white stock, white cords, and hunting-boots, sullen, imbittered, red +with a false shame that better men than I have weakened under, almost +desperate in my humiliation, almost ready to end it all there among +those tawny, restless brutes pacing behind the bars at my elbow, +watching me stealthily with luminous eyes. + +She knew what I was--but that she could come to see with her own eyes +I could not understand, I could not forgive. Speed's senseless words +rang in my ears--"She cares for you!" But I knew they were +meaningless, I knew she could not care for me. What fools' paradise +would he have me enter? What did he know of this woman whom I knew and +understood--whom I honored for her tenderness and pity to all who +suffered--who I knew counted me as one among a multitude of unhappy +failures whom her kindness and sympathy might aid. + +Because she had, in her gracious ignorance, given me a young girl's +impulsive friendship, was I to mistake her? What could Speed know of +her--of her creed, her ideals, her calm, passionless desire to help +where help was needed--anywhere--in the palace, in the faubourgs, in +the wretched chaumières, in the slums? It was all one to her--to this +young girl whose tender heart, bruised by her own sad life, opened to +all on whom the evil days had dawned. + +And yet she had come here--and that was cruel; and she was not cruel. +Could she know that I had a shred of pride left--one little, ragged +thread of pride left in me--that she should come to see me do my +mountebank tricks to the applause of a greasy throng? + +No, she had not thought of that, else she would have stayed away; for +she was kind, above all else--generous and kind. + +Speed passed me in ring-master's dress; there came the hollow thud of +hoofs as Mrs. Grigg galloped into the ring on her white mare, gauze +skirts fluttering, whip raised; and, "Hoop-la!" squealed the clown as +his pretty little wife went careering around and around the tan-bark, +leaping through paper-hoops, over hurdles, while the band played +frantically and the Bretons shouted in an ecstasy of excitement. + +Then Grigg mounted his little trick donkey; roars of laughter greeted +his discomfiture when Tim, the donkey, pitched him headlong and +cantered off with a hee-haw of triumph. + +Miss Delany tripped past me in her sky-blue tights to hold the +audience spellbound with her jugglery, and spin plates and throw +glittering knives until the satiated people turned to welcome Horan +and his "cogged" dumbbells and clubs. + +"Have you seen her?" whispered Speed, coming up to me, long whip +trailing. + +I shook my head. + +He looked at me in disgust. "Here's something for you," he said, +shortly, and thrust an envelope into my hand. + +In the envelope was a little card on which was written: "I ask you to +be careful, for a friend's sake." On the other side of the card was +engraved her name. + +I raised my head and looked at Speed, who began to laugh nervously. +"That's better," he said; "you don't look like a surly brute any +more." + +"Where is she?" I said, steadying my voice, which my leaping heart +almost stifled. + +He drew me by the elbow and looked toward the right of the +amphitheatre. Following the direction of his eyes, I saw her leaning +forward, pale-faced, grave, small, gloved hands interlocked. Beside +her sat Sylvia Elven, apparently amused at the antics of the clown. + +Shame filled me. Not the false shame I had felt--that vanished--but +shame that I could have misunderstood the presence of this brave +friend of mine, this brave, generous, tender-hearted girl, who had +given me her friendship, who was true enough to care what might happen +to me--and brave enough to say so. + +"I will be careful," I said to Speed, in a low voice. "If it were +not for Byram I would not go on to-day--but that is a matter of honor. +Oh, Speed," I broke out, "is she not worth dying for?" + +"Why not live for her?" he observed, dryly. + +"I will--don't misunderstand me--I know she could never even think of +me--as I do--of her--yes, as I dare to, Speed. I dare to love her with +all this wretched heart and soul of mine! It's all right--I think I am +crazy to talk like this--but you are kind, Speed--you will forget +what I said--you have forgotten it already--bless your heart--" + +"No, I haven't," he retorted, obstinately. "You must win her--you +must! Shame on you for a coward if you do not speak that word which +means life to you both!" + +"Speed!" I began, angrily. + +"Oh, go to the devil!" he snapped, and walked off to where Jacqueline +stood glittering, her slim limbs striking fire from every silver +scale. + +"All ready, little sweetheart!" he cried, reassuringly, as she raised +her blue eyes to his and shook her elf-locks around her flushed face. +"It's our turn now; they're uncovering the tank, and Miss Crystal is +on her trapeze. Are you nervous?" + +"Not when you are by me," said Jacqueline. + +"I'll be there," he said, smiling. "You will see me when you are +ready. Look! There's the governor! It's your call! Quick, my child!" + +"Good-bye," said Jacqueline, catching his hand in both of hers, and +she was off and in the middle of the ring before I could get to a +place of vantage to watch. + +Up into the rigging she swung, higher, higher, hanging like a +brilliant fly in all that net-work of wire and rope, turning, +twisting, climbing, dropping to her knees, until the people's cheers +rose to a sustained shriek. + +"Ready!" quavered Miss Crystal, hanging from her own trapeze across +the gulf. + +It was the first signal. Jacqueline set her trapeze swinging and hung +by her knees, face downward. + +"Ready!" called Miss Crystal again, as Jacqueline's trapeze swung +higher and higher. + +"Ready!" said Jacqueline, calmly. + +"Go!" + +[Illustration: "I WAS ON MY KNEES"] + +Like a meteor the child flashed across the space between the two +trapezes; Miss Crystal caught her by her ankles. + +"Ready?" called Speed, from the ground below. He had turned quite +pale. I saw Jacqueline, hanging head down, smile at him from her dizzy +height. + +"Ready," she said, calmly. + +"Go!" + +Down, down, like a falling star, flashed Jacqueline into the shallow +pool, then shot to the surface, shimmering like a leaping mullet, +where she played and dived and darted, while the people screamed +themselves hoarse, and Speed came out, ghastly and trembling, +colliding with me like a blind man. + +"I wish I had never let her do it; I wish I had never brought her +here--never seen her," he stammered. "She'll miss it some day--like +Miss Claridge--and it will be murder--and I'll have done it! Anybody +but that child, Scarlett, anybody else--but I can't bear to have her +die that way--the pretty little thing!" + +He let go of my arm and stood back as my lion-cages came rolling out, +drawn by four horses. + +"It's your turn," he said, in a dazed way. "Look out for that +lioness." + +As I walked out into the arena I saw only one face. She tried to +smile, and so did I; but a terrible, helpless sensation was already +creeping over me--the knowledge that I was causing her distress--the +knowledge that I was no longer sure of myself--that, with my love for +her, my authority over these caged things had gone, never to return. I +knew it, I recognized it, and admitted it now. Speed's words rang +true--horribly true. + +I entered the cage, afraid. + +Almost instantly I was the centre of a snarling mass of lions; I saw +nothing; my whip rose and fell mechanically. I stood like one +stunned, while the tawny forms leaped right and left. + +Suddenly I heard a keeper say, "Look out for Empress Khatoun, sir!" +And a moment later a cry, "Look out, sir!" + +Something went wrong with another lion, too, for the people were +standing up and shouting, and the sleeve of my coat hung from the +elbow, showing my bare shoulder. I staggered up against the bars of +the sliding door as a lioness struck me heavily and I returned the +blow. I remember saying, aloud: "I must keep my feet; I must not +fall!" Then daylight grew red, and I was on my knees, with the foul +breath of a lion in my face. A hot iron bar shot across the cage. The +roaring of beasts and people died out in my ears; then, with a shock, +my soul seemed to be dashed out of me into a terrific darkness. + + + + +PART THIRD + + + + +XVIII + +A GUEST-CHAMBER + + +A light was shining in my eyes and I was talking excitedly; that and +the odor of brandy I remember--and something else, a steady roaring in +my ears; then darkness, out of which came a voice, empty, meaningless, +finally soundless. + +After a while I realized that I was in pain; that, at intervals, +somebody forced morsels of ice between my lips; that the darkness +around me had turned grayer. + +Time played tricks on me; centuries passed steadily, year following +year--long years they were, too, with endless spring-tides, summers, +autumns, winters, each with full complement of months, and every month +crowded with days. Space, illimitable space, surrounded me--skyless, +starless space. And through its terrific silence I heard a clock +ticking seconds of time. + +Years and years later a yellow star rose and stood still before my +open eyes; and after a long while I saw it was the flame of a candle: +and somebody spoke my name. + +"I know you, Speed," I said, drowsily. + +"You are all right, Scarlett?" + +"Yes,... all right." + +"Does the candle-light pain you?" + +"No;... do they contract?" + +"A little.... Yes, I am sure the pupils of your eyes are contracting. +Don't talk." + +"No;... then it was concussion of the brain?" + +"Yes;... the shock is passing.... Don't talk." + +Time moved on again; space slowly contracted into a symmetrical shape, +set with little points of light; sleep and fatigue alternated with +glimmers of reason, which finally grew into a faint but steady +intelligence. And, very delicately, memory stirred in a slumbering +brain. + +Reason and memory were mine again, frail toys for a stricken man, so +frail I dared not, for a time, use them for my amusement--and one of +them was broken, too--memory!--broken short at the moment when full in +my face I had felt the hot, fetid breath of a lion. + +"Speed!" + +"Yes; I am here." + +"What time is it?" + +I heard the click of his hunting-case. "Eleven o'clock." + +"What day?" + +"Saturday." + +"When--" I hesitated. I was afraid. + +"Well?" he asked, quietly. + +"When was I hurt? Many days ago--many weeks?" + +"You were hurt at half-past three this afternoon." + +I tried to comprehend; I could not, and after a while I gave up my +feeble grasp on time. + +"What is that roaring sound?" I asked. "Not drums? Not my lions?" + +"It is the sea." + +"So near?" + +"Very near." + +I turned my head on the white pillow. "Where is this bed? Where is +this room?" + +"Shall I tell you?" + +I was silent, struggling with memory. + +"Tell me," I said. "Whose bed is this?" + +"It is hers." + +The candle-flame glimmered before my wide-open eyes once more, and-- + +"Oh, you are all right," he muttered, then leaned heavily against the +bedside, dropping his arms on the coverlet. + +"It was a close call--a close call!" he said, hoarsely. "We thought +it was ended.... They were all over you--Empress dragged you; but they +all crowded in too close--they blocked each other, you see;... and we +used the irons.... Your left arm lay close to the cage door and ... we +got you away from them, and ... it's all right now--it's all right--" + +He broke down, head buried in his arms. I moved my left hand across +the sheets so that it rested on his elbow. He lay there, gulping for a +while; I could not see him very clearly, for the muscles that +controlled my eyes were still slightly paralyzed from the shock of the +blow that Empress Khatoun had dealt me. + +"It's all very well," he stammered, with a trace of resentment in his +quavering voice--"it's all very well for people who are used to the +filthy beasts; but I tell you, Scarlett, it sickened me. I'm no +coward, as men go, but I was afraid--I was terrified!" + +"Yet you dragged me out," I said. + +"Who told you that? How could you know--" + +"It was not necessary to tell me. You said, '_We_ got you away'; but +I know it was you, Speed, because it was like you. Look at me! Am I +well enough to dress?" + +He raised a haggard face to mine. "You know best," he said. "They +tore your coat off, and one of them ripped your riding-boot from top +to sole; but the blow Empress struck you is your only hurt, and she +all but missed you at that. Had she hit you fairly--but, oh, hell! Do +you want to get up?" + +I said I would in a moment,... and that is all I remember that night, +all I remember clearly, though it seems to me that once I heard drums +beating in the distance; and perhaps I did. + +Dawn was breaking when I awoke. Speed, partly dressed, lay beside me, +sleeping heavily. I looked around at the pretty boudoir where I lay, +at the silken curtains of the bed, at the clouds of cupids on the +painted ceiling, flying through a haze of vermilion flecked with +gold. + +Raising one hand, I touched with tentative fingers my tightly bandaged +head, then turned over on my side. + +There were my torn clothes, filthy and smeared with sawdust, flung +over a delicate, gilded chair; there sprawled my battered boots, +soiling the polished, inlaid floor; a candle lay in a pool of hardened +wax on a golden rococo table, and I saw where the smouldering wick had +blistered the glazed top. And this was her room! Vandalism +unspeakable! I turned on my snoring comrade. + +"Idiot, get up!" I cried, hitting him feebly. + +He was very angry when he found out why I had awakened him; perhaps +the sight of my bandaged head restrained him from violence. + +"Look here," he said, "I've been up all night, and you might as well +know it. If you hit me again--" He hesitated, stared around, yawned, +and rubbed his eyes. + +"You're right," he said, "I must get up." + +He stumbled to the floor, bathed, grumbling all the while, and then, +to my surprise, walked over to a flat trunk which stood under the +window and which I recognized as mine. + +"I'll borrow some underwear," he remarked, viciously. + +"What's my trunk doing here?" I demanded. + +"Madame de Vassart had them bring it." + +"Had _who_ bring it?" + +"Horan and McCadger--before they left." + +"Before they left? Have they gone?" + +"I forgot," he said, soberly; "you don't know what's been going +on." + +He began to dress, raising his head now and then to gaze out across +the ocean towards Groix, where the cruiser once lay at anchor. + +"Of course you don't know that the circus has gone," he remarked. + +"Gone!" I echoed, astonished. + +"Gone to Lorient." + +He came and sat down on the edge of the gilded bedstead, buttoning his +collar thoughtfully. + +"Buckhurst is in town again with a raft of picturesque ruffians," he +said. "They marched in last night, drums beating, colors +unfurled--the red rag, you know--and the first thing they did was to +order Byram to decamp." + +He began to tie his cravat, with a meditative glance at the gilded +mirror. + +"I was here with you. Kelly Eyre came for me--Madame de Vassart took +my place to watch you--" + +A sudden heart-beat choked me. + +"--So I," he continued, "posted off to the tent, to find a rabble of +communist soldiers stealing my balloon-car, ropes, bag, and all. I +tell you I did what I could, but they said the balloon was contraband +of war, and a military necessity; and they took it, the thieving +whelps! Then I saw how matters were going to end, and I told the +governor that he'd better go to Lorient as fast as he could travel +before they stole the buttons off his shirt. + +"Scarlett, it was a weird sight. I never saw tents struck so quickly. +Kelly Eyre, Horan, and I harnessed up; Grigg stood guard over the +props with a horse-pistol. The ladies worked like Trojans, loading the +wagons; Byram raged up and down under the bayonets of those bandits, +cursing them as only a man who never swears can curse, invoking the +Stars and Stripes, metaphorically placing himself, his company, his +money-box, and his camuel under the shadow of the broad eagle of the +United States. + +"Oh, those were gay times, Scarlett. And we frightened them, too, +because nobody attempted to touch anything." + +Speed laughed grimly, and began to pace the floor, casting sharp +glances at me. + +"Byram's people, elephant and all, struck the road a little after +three o'clock this morning, in good order, not a tent-peg nor a +frying-pan missing. They ought to be in Lorient by early afternoon." + +"Gone!" I repeated, blankly. + +"Gone. Curious how it hurt me to say good-bye. They're good +people--good, kindly folk. I've grown to care for them in these few +months ... I may go back to them ... some day ... if they want a +balloonist ... or any kind of a thing." + +"You stayed to take care of me?" I said. + +"Partly.... You need care, especially when you don't need it." He +began to laugh. "It's only when you're well that I worry." + +I lay looking at him, striving to realize the change that had occurred +in so brief a time--trying to understand the abrupt severing of ties +and conditions to which, already, I had become accustomed--perhaps +attached. + +"They all sent their love to you," he said. "They knew you were out +of danger--I told them there was no fracture, only a slight +concussion. Byram came to look at you; he brought your back +salary--all of it. I've got it." + +"Byram came here?" + +"Yes. He stood over there beside you, snivelling into his red +bandanna. And Miss Crystal and Jacqueline stood here.... Jacqueline +kissed you." + +After a moment I said: "Has Jacqueline gone with them?" + +"Yes." + +There was another pause, longer this time. + +"Of course," I said, "Byram knows that my usefulness as a lion-tamer +is at an end." + +"Of course," said Speed, simply. + +I sighed. + +"He wants you for the horses," added Speed. "But you can do better +than that." + +"I don't know,... perhaps." + +"Besides, they sail to-day from Lorient. The governor made money +yesterday--enough to start again. Poor Byram! He's frantic to get back +to America; and, oh, Scarlett, how that good old man can swear!" + +"Help me to sit up in bed," I said; "there--that's it! Just wedge +those pillows behind my shoulders." + +"All right?" + +"Of course. I'm going to dress. Speed, did you say that little +Jacqueline went with Byram?" + +He looked at me miserably. + +"Yes," he said. + +I was silent. + +"Yes," he repeated, "she went, lugging her pet cat in her arms. She +would go; the life has fascinated her. I begged her not to--I felt I +was disloyal to Byram, too, but what could I do? I tell you, Scarlett, +I wish I had never seen her, never persuaded her to try that foolish +dive. She'll miss some day--like the other one." + +"It's my fault more than yours," I said. "Couldn't you persuade her +to give it up?" + +"I offered to educate her, to send her to school, to work for her," +he said. "She only looked at me out of those sea-blue eyes--you know +how the little witch can look you through and through--and then--and +then she walked away into the torch-glare, clasping her cat to her +breast, and I saw her strike a fool of a soldier who pretended to stop +her! Scarlett, she was a strange child--proud and dainty, too, with +all her rags--you remember--a strange, sweet child--almost a woman, at +times, and--I thought her loyal--" + +He walked to the window and stared moodily at the sea. + +"Meanwhile," I said, quietly, "I am going to get up." + +He gave me a look which I interpreted as, "Get up and be damned!" I +complied--in part. + +"Oh, help me into these things, will you?" I said, at length; and +instantly he was at my side, gentle and patient, lacing my shoes, +because it made my head ache to bend over, buttoning collar and +cravat, and slipping my coat on while I leaned against the tumbled +bed. + +"Well!" I said, with a grimace, and stood up, shakily. + +"Well," he echoed, "here we are again, as poor little Grigg says." + +"With our salaries in our pockets and our possessions on our backs." + +"And no prospects," he added, gayly. + +"Not a blessed one, unless we count a prospect of trouble with +Buckhurst." + +"He won't trouble us unless we interfere with him," observed Speed, +drumming nervously on the window. + +"But I'm going to," I said, surprised. + +"Going to interfere?" he asked, wheeling to scowl at me. + +"Certainly." + +"Why? We're not in government employ. What do we care about this row? +If these Frenchmen are tired of battering the Germans they'll batter +each other, and we can't help it, can we?" + +"We can help Buckhurst's annoying Madame de Vassart." + +"Only by getting her to leave the country," said Speed. "She will +understand that, too." He paused, rubbing his nose reflectively. +"Scarlett, what do you suppose Buckhurst is up to?" + +"I haven't an idea," I replied. "All I know is that, in all +probability, he came here to attempt to rob the treasure-trains--and +that was your theory, too, you remember?" + +And I continued, reminding Speed that Buckhurst had collected his +ruffianly franc company in the forest; that the day the cruiser sailed +he had appeared in Paradise to proclaim the commune; that doubtless he +had signalled, from the semaphore, orders for the cruiser's departure; +that a few hours later his red battalion had marched into Paradise. + +"Yes, that's all logical," said Speed, "but how could Buckhurst know +the secret-code signals which the cruiser must have received before +she sailed? To hoist them on the semaphore, he must have had a +code-book." + +I thought a moment. "Suppose Mornac is with him?" + +Speed fairly jumped. "That's it! That's the link we were hunting for! +It's Mornac--it must be Mornac! He is the only man; he had access to +everything. And now that his Emperor is a prisoner and his Empress a +fugitive, the miserable hound has nothing to lose by the anarchy he +once hoped to profit by. Tell me, Scarlett, does the tail wag the dog, +after all? And which is the dog, Buckhurst or Mornac?" + +"I once thought it was Buckhurst," I said. + +"So did I, but--I don't know now. I don't know what to do, either. I +don't know anything!" + +I began to walk about the room, carefully, for my knees were weak, +though I had no headache. + +"It's a shame for a pair of hulking brutes like you and me to +desecrate this bedroom," I muttered. "Mud on the floor--look at it! +Sawdust and candle-wax over everything! What's that--all that on the +lounge? Has a dog or a cat been rolling over it? It's plastered with +tan-colored hairs!" + +"Lion's hairs from your coat," he observed, grimly. + +I looked at them for a moment rather soberly. They glistened like gold +in the early sunshine. + +Speed opened his mouth to say something, but closed it abruptly as a +very faint tapping sounded on our door. + +I opened it; Sylvia Elven stood in the hallway. + +"Oh," she said, in ungracious astonishment, "then you are not on the +grave's awful verge,... are you?" + +"I hope you didn't expect to discover me there?" I replied, +laughing. + +"Expect it? Indeed I did, monsieur,... or I shouldn't be here at +sunrise, scratching at your door for news of you. This," she said, +petulantly, "is enough to vex any saint!" + +"Any other saint," I corrected, gravely. "I admit it, mademoiselle, +I am a nuisance; so is my comrade. We have only to express our deep +gratitude and go." + +"Go? Do you think we will let you go, with all those bandits roaming +the moors outside our windows? And you call that gratitude?" + +"Does Madame de Vassart desire us to stay?" I asked, trying not to +speak too eagerly. + +Sylvia Elven gave me a scornful glance. + +"Must we implore you, monsieur, to protect us? We will, if you wish +it. I know I'm ill-humored, but it's scarcely daybreak, and we've sat +up all night on your account--Madame de Vassart would not allow me to +go to bed--and if I am brusque with you, remember I was obliged to +sleep in a chair--and I hope you feel that you have put me to very +great inconvenience." + +"I feel that way ... about Madame de Vassart," I said, laughing at +the pretty, pouting mouth and sleepy eyes of this amusingly +exasperated young girl, who resembled a rumpled Dresden shepherdess +more than anything else. I added that we would be glad to stay until +the communist free-rifles took themselves off. For which she thanked +me with an exaggerated courtesy and retired, furiously conscious that +she had not only slept in her clothes, but that she looked it. + +"That was Madame de Vassart's companion, wasn't it?" asked Speed. + +"Yes, Sylvia Elven ... I don't know what she is--I know what she +was--no, I don't, either. I only know what Jarras says she was." + +Speed raised his eyebrows. "And what was that?" + +"Actress, at the Odéon." + +"Never heard of her being at the Odéon," he said. + +"You heard of her as one of that group at La Trappe?" + +"Yes." + +"Well, when I was looking for Buckhurst in Morsbronn, Jarras +telegraphed me descriptions of the people I was to arrest at La +Trappe, and he mentioned her as Mademoiselle Sylvia Elven, lately of +the Odéon." + +"That was a mistake," said Speed. "What he meant to say was that she +was lately a resident of the Odeonsplatz. He knew that. It must have +been a telegraphic error." + +"How do you know?" I asked, surprised. + +"Because I furnished Jarras with the data. It's in her dossier." + +"Odeon--Odeonsplatz," I muttered, trying to understand. "What is the +Odeonsplatz? A square in some German city, isn't it?" + +"It's a square in the capital of Bavaria--Munich." + +"But--but she isn't a German, is she? _Is she_?" I repeated, staring +at Speed, who was looking keenly at me, with eyes partly closed. + +There was a long silence. + +"Well, upon my soul!" I said, slowly, emphasizing every word with a +noiseless blow on the table. + +"Didn't you know it? Wait! Hold on," he said, "let's go +slowly--let's go very slowly. She is partly German by birth. That +proves nothing. Granted that Jarras suspected her, not as a social +agitator, but as a German agent. Granted he did not tell you what he +suspected, but merely ordered her arrest with the others--perhaps +under cover of Buckhurst's arrest--you know what a secret man, the +Emperor was--how, if he wanted a man, he'd never chase him, but run in +the opposite direction and head him off half-way around the world. So, +granted all this, I say, what's to prove Jarras was right?" + +"Does her dossier prove it? You have read it." + +"Well, her dossier was rather incomplete. We knew that she went about +a good deal in Paris--went to the Tuileries, too. She was married +once. Didn't you know even _that_?" + +"Married!" I exclaimed. + +"To a Russian brute--I've forgotten his name, but I've seen him--one +of the kind with high cheek-bones and black eyes. She got her divorce +in England; that's on record, and we have it in her dossier. Then, +going back still further, we know that her father was a Bavarian, a +petty noble of some sort--baron, I believe. Her mother's name was +Elven, a Breton peasant; it was a mésalliance--trouble of all sorts--I +forget, but I believe her uncle brought her up. Her uncle was military +attaché of the German embassy to Paris.... You see how she slipped +into society--and you know what society under the Empire was." + +"Speed," I said, "why on earth didn't you tell me all this before?" + +"My dear fellow, I supposed Jarras had told you; or that, if you +didn't know it, it did not concern us at all." + +"But it does concern--a person I know," I said, quickly, thinking of +poor Kelly Eyre. "And it explains a lot of things--or, rather, places +them under a new light." + +"What light?" + +"Well, for one thing, she has consistently lied to me. For another, I +believe her to be hand-in-glove with Karl Marx and the French +leaders--not Buckhurst, but the real leaders of the social revolt; +_not as a genuine disciple, but as a German agent_, with orders to +foment disorder of any kind which might tend to embarrass and weaken +the French government in this crisis." + +"You're inclined to believe that?" he asked, much interested. + +"Yes, I am. France is full of German agents; the Tuileries was not +exempt--you know it as well as I. Paris swarmed with spies of every +kind, high and low in the social scale. The embassies were nests of +spies; every salon a breeding spot of intrigue; the foreign +governments employed the grande dame as well as the grisette. Do you +remember the military-balloon scandal?" + +"Indistinctly.... Some poor devil gave a woman government papers." + +"Technically they were government papers, but he considered them his +own. Well, the woman who received those papers is down-stairs." + +He gave a short whistle of astonishment. + +"You are sure, Scarlett?" + +"Perfectly certain." + +"Then, if you are certain, that settles the question of Mademoiselle +Elven's present occupation." + +I rose and began to move around the room restlessly. + +"But, after all," I said, "that concerns us no longer." + +"How can it concern two Americans out of a job?" he observed, with a +shrug. "The whole fabric of French politics is rotten to the +foundation. It's tottering; a shake will bring it down. Let it tumble. +I tell you this nation needs the purification of fire. Our own country +has just gone through it; France can do it, too. She's got to, or +she's lost!" + +He looked at me earnestly. "I love the country," he said; "it's fed +me and harbored me. But I wouldn't lift a finger to put a single patch +on this makeshift of a government; I wouldn't stave off the crash if I +could. And it's coming! You and I have seen something of the +rottenness of the underpinning which props up empires. You and I, +Scarlett, have learned a few of the shameful secrets which even an +enemy to France would not drag out into the daylight." + +I had never seen him so deeply moved. + +"Is there hope--is there a glimmer of hope to incite anybody while +these conditions endure?" he continued, bitterly. + +"No. France must suffer, France must stand alone in terrible +humiliation, France must offer the self-sacrifice of fire and mount +the altar herself! + +"Then, and only then, shall the nation, purified, reborn, rise and +live, and build again, setting a beacon of civilized freedom high as +the beacon we Americans are raising,... slowly yet surely raising, to +the glory of God, Scarlett--to the glory of God. No other dedication +can be justified in this world." + + + + +XIX + +TRÉCOURT GARDEN + + +About nine o'clock we were summoned by a Breton maid to the pretty +breakfast-room below, and I was ashamed to go with my shabby clothes, +bandaged head, and face the color of clay. + +The young countess was not present; Sylvia Elven offered us a +supercilious welcome to a breakfast the counterpart of which I had not +seen in years--one of those American breakfasts which even we, since +the Paris Exposition, are beginning to discard for the simpler French +breakfast of coffee and rolls. + +"This is all in your honor," observed Sylvia, turning up her nose at +the array of poached eggs, fragrant sausages, crisp potatoes, piles of +buttered toast, muffins, marmalade, and fruit. + +"It was very kind of you to think of it," said Speed. + +"It is Madame de Vassart's idea, not mine," she observed, looking +across the table at me. "Will the gentleman with nine lives have +coffee or chocolate?" + +The fruit consisted of grapes and those winy Breton cider-apples from +Bannalec. We began with these in decorous silence. + +Speed ventured a few comments on the cultivation of fruit, of which he +knew nothing; neither he nor his subject was encouraged. + +Presently, however, Sylvia glanced up at him with a malicious smile, +saying: "I notice that you have been in the foreign division of the +Imperial Military Police, monsieur." + +"Why do you think so?" asked Speed, calmly. + +"When you seated yourself in your chair," said Sylvia, "you made a +gesture with your left hand as though to unhook the sabre--which was +not there." + +Speed laughed. "But why the police? I might have been in the cavalry, +mademoiselle; for that matter, I might have been an officer in any arm +of the service. They all carry swords or sabres." + +"But only the military police and the gendarmerie wear aiguilettes," +she replied. "When you bend over your plate your fingers are ever +unconsciously searching for those swinging, gold-tipped cords--to keep +them out of your coffee-cup, monsieur." + +The muscles in Speed's lean, bronzed cheeks tightened; he looked at +her keenly. + +"Might I not have been in the gendarmerie?" he asked. "How do you +know I was not?" + +"Does the gendarmerie wear the sabre-tache?" + +"No, mademoiselle, but--" + +"Do the military police?" + +"No--that is, the foreign division did, when it existed." + +"You are sitting, monsieur," she said, placidly, "with your left +foot so far under the table that it quite inadvertently presses my +shoe-tip." + +Speed withdrew his leg with a jerk, asking pardon. + +"It is a habit perfectly pardonable in a man who is careful that his +spur shall not scratch or tear a patent-leather sabre-tache," she +said. + +I had absolutely nothing to say; we both laughed feebly, I believe. + +I saw temptation struggling with Speed's caution; I, too, was almost +willing to drop a hint that might change her amusement to speculation, +if not to alarm. + +So this was the woman for whose caprice Kelly Eyre had wrecked his +prospects! Clever--oh, certainly clever. But she had made the +inevitable slip that such clever people always make sooner or later. +And in a bantering message to her victim she had completed the chain +against herself--a chain of which I might have been left in absolute +ignorance. Impulse probably did it--reasonless and perhaps malicious +caprice--the instinct of a pretty woman to stir up memory in a +discarded and long-forgotten victim--just to note the effect--just to +see if there still remains one nerve, one pulse-beat to respond. + +"Will the pensive gentleman with nine lives have a little more +nourishment to sustain him?" she asked. + +Looking up from my empty plate, I declined politely; and we followed +her signal to rise. + +"There is a Mr. Kelly Eyre," she said to Speed, "connected with your +circus. Has he gone with the others?" + +"Yes, mademoiselle." + +"Really?" she mused, amiably. "I knew him as a student in Paris, +when he was very young--and I was younger. I should have liked to have +seen him--once more." + +"Did you not see him?" I asked, abruptly. + +Her back was toward me; very deliberately she turned her pretty head +and looked at me over her shoulder, studying my face a moment. + +"Yes, I saw him. I should have liked to have seen him--once more," +she said, as though she had first calculated the effect on me of a +different reply. + +She led the way into that small room overlooking the garden where I +had been twice received by Madame de Vassart. Here she took leave of +us, abandoning us to our own designs. Mine was to find a large +arm-chair and sit down in it, and give Speed a few instructions. +Speed's was to prowl around Paradise for information, and, if +possible, telegraph to Lorient for troops to catch Buckhurst +red-handed. + +He left me turning over the leaves of the "Chanson de Roland," saying +that he would return in a little while with any news he might pick up, +and that he would do his best to catch Buckhurst in the foolish trap +which that gentleman had set for others. + +Tiring of the poem, I turned my eyes toward the garden, where, in the +sunshine, heaps of crisped leaves lay drifted along the base of the +wall or scattered between the rows of herbs which were still ripely +green. The apricots had lost their leaves, so had the grapevines and +the fig-trees; but the peach-trees were in foliage; pansies and +perpetual roses bloomed amid sere and seedy thickets of larkspurs, +phlox, and dead delphinium. + +On the wall a cat sat, sunning her sleek flanks. Something about the +animal seemed familiar to me, and after a while I made up my mind that +this was Ange Pitou, Jacqueline's pet, abandoned by her mistress and +now a feline derelict. Speed must have been mistaken when he told me +that Jacqueline had taken her cat; or possibly the home-haunting +instinct had brought the creature back, abandoning her mistress to her +fortunes. + +If I had been in my own house I should have offered Ange Pitou +hospitality; as it was, I walked out into the sunny garden and made +courteous advances which were ignored. I watched the cat for a few +moments, then sat down on the bench. The inertia which follows +recovery from a shock, however light, left me with the lazy +acquiescence of a convalescent, willing to let the world drift for an +hour or two, contented to relax, apathetic, comfortable. + +Seaward the gulls sailed like white feathers floating; the rocky +ramparts of Groix rose clear-cut against a horizon where no haze +curtained the sea; the breakers had receded from the coast on a heavy +ebb-tide, and I saw them in frothy outline, noiselessly churning the +shallows beyond the outer bar. + +And then my reverie ended abruptly; a step on the gravel walk brought +me to my feet.... There she stood, lovely in a fresh morning-gown +deeply belted with turquoise-shells, her ruddy hair glistening, coiled +low on a neck of snow. + +For the first time she showed embarrassment in her greeting, scarcely +touching my hand, speaking with a new constraint in a voice which grew +colder as she hesitated. + +"We were frightened; we are so glad that you were not badly hurt. I +thought you might find it comfortable here--of course I could not know +that you were not seriously injured." + +"That is fortunate for me," I said, pleasantly, "for I am afraid you +would not have offered this shelter if you had known how little +injured I really was." + +"Yes, I should have offered it--had I reason to believe you would +have accepted. I have felt that perhaps you might think what I have +done was unwarranted." + +"I think you did the most graciously unselfish thing a woman could +do," I said, quickly. "You offered your best; and the man who took it +cannot--dare not--express his gratitude." + +The emotion in my voice warned me to cease; the faintest color tinted +her cheeks, and she looked at me with beautiful, grave eyes that +slowly grew inscrutable, leaving me standing diffident and silent +before her. + +The breeze shifted, bringing with it the hollow sea-thunder. She +turned her head and glanced out across the ocean, hands behind her, +fingers linked. + +"I have come here into your garden uninvited," I said. + +"Shall we sit here--a moment?" she suggested, without turning. + +Presently she seated herself in one corner of the bench; her gaze +wandered over the partly blighted garden, then once more centred on +the seaward skyline. + +The color of her hands, her neck, fascinated me. That flesh texture of +snow and roses, firmly and delicately modelled, which sometimes is +seen with red hair, I had seen once before in a picture by a Spanish +master, but never, until now, in real life. + +And she was life incarnate in her wholesome beauty--a beauty of which +I had perceived only the sad shadow at La Trappe--a sweet, healthy, +exquisite woman, moulded, fashioned, colored by a greater Master than +the Spanish painter dreaming of perfection centuries ago. + +In the sun a fragrance grew--the subtle incense from her gown--perhaps +from her hair. + +"Autumn is already gone; we are close to winter," she said, under her +breath. "See, there is nothing left--scarcely a blossom--a rose or +two; but the first frost will scatter the petals. Look at the pinks; +look at the dead leaves. Ah, tristesse, tristesse! The life of summer +is too short; the life of flowers is too short; so are our lives, +Monsieur Scarlett. Do you believe it?" + +"Yes--now." + +She was very still for a while, her head bent toward the sea. Then, +without turning: "Have you not always believed it?" + +"No, madame." + +"Then ... why do you believe it ... now?" + +"Because, since we have become friends, life seems pitiably short for +such a friendship." + +She smiled without moving. + +"That is a ... very beautiful ... compliment, monsieur." + +"It owes its beauty to its truth, madame." + +"And that reply is illogical," she said, turning to look at me with +brilliant eyes and a gay smile which emphasized the sensitive mouth's +faint droop. "Illogical, because truth is not always beautiful. As +example: you were very near to death yesterday. That is the truth, but +it is not beautiful at all." + +"Ah, madame, it is you who are illogical," I said, laughing. + +"I?" she cried. "Prove it!" + +But I would not, spite of her challenge and bright mockery. + +In that flash all of our comradeship returned, bringing with it +something new, which I dared not think was intimacy. + +Yet constraint fell away like a curtain between us, and though she +dominated, and I was afraid lest I overstep limits which I myself had +set, the charm of her careless confidence, her pretty, undissembled +caprices, her pleasure in a delicately intimate badinage, gave me +something of a self-reliance, a freedom that I had not known in a +woman's presence for many years. + +"We brought you here because we thought it was good for you," she +said, reverting maliciously to the theme that had at first embarrassed +her. "We were perfectly certain that you have always been unfit to +take care of yourself. Now we have the proofs." + +"Mademoiselle Elven said that you harbored us only because you were +afraid of those bandits who have arrived in Paradise," I observed. + +"Afraid!" she said, scornfully. "Oh, you are making fun of me now. +Indeed, when Mr. Buckhurst came last night I had my men conduct him to +the outer gate!" + +"Did he come last night?" I asked, troubled. + +"Yes." She shrugged her pretty shoulders. + +"Alone?" + +"That unspeakable creature, Mornac, was with him. I had no idea he +was here; had you?" + +I was silent. Did Mornac mean trouble for me? Yet how could he, shorn +now of all authority? + +The thought seemed to occur to her, too, and she looked up quickly, +asking if I had anything to fear. + +"Only for you," I said. + +"For me? Why? I am not afraid of such men. I have servants on whom I +can call to disembarrass me of such people." She hesitated; the memory +of her deception, of what she had suffered at Buckhurst's hands, +brought a glint of anger into her beautiful eyes. + +"My innocence shames me," she said. "I merited what I received in +such company. It was you who saved me from myself." + +"A noble mind thinks nobly," I said. "Theirs is the shame, not +yours, that you could not understand treachery--that you never can +understand it. As for me, I was an accident, which warned you in time +that all the world was not as good and true as you desired to believe +it." + +She sat looking at me curiously. "I wonder," she said, "why it is +that you do not know your own value?" + +"My value--to whom?" + +"To ... everybody--to the world--to people." + +"Am I of any value to you, madame?" + +The pulsing moments passed and she did not answer, and I bit my lip +and waited. At last she said, coolly: "A man must appraise himself. +If he chooses, he is valuable. But values are comparative, and depend +on individual taste.... Yes, you are of some value to me,... or I +should not be here with you,... or I should not find it my pleasure to +be here--or I should not trust you, come to you with my petty +troubles, ask your experience to help me, perhaps protect me." + +She bent her head with adorable diffidence. "Monsieur Scarlett, I +have never before had a friend who thought first of me and last of +himself." + +I leaned on the back of the bench, resting my bandaged forehead on my +hand. + +She looked up after a moment, and her face grew serious. + +"Are you suffering?" she asked. "Your face is white as my sleeve." + +"I feel curiously tired," I said, smiling. + +"Then you must have some tea, and I will brew it myself. You shall +not object! No--it is useless, because I am determined. And you shall +lie down in the little tea-room, where I found you that day when you +first came to Trécourt." + +"I shall be very happy to do anything--if you are there." + +"Even drink tea when you abhor it? Then I certainly ought to reward +you with my presence at the rite.... Are you dizzy? You are terribly +pale.... Would you lean on my arm?" + +I was not dizzy, but I did so; and if such deceit is not pardonable, +there is no justice in this world or in the next. + +The tea was hot and harmless; I lay thinking while she sat in the +sunny window-corner, nibbling biscuit and marmalade, and watching me +gravely. + +"My appetite is dreadful in these days," she said; "age increases +it; I have just had my chocolate, yet here am I, eating like a +school-girl.... I have a strange idea that I am exceedingly young,... +that I am just beginning to live. That tired, thin, shabby girl you +saw at La Trappe was certainly not I.... And long before that, before +I knew you, there was another impersonal, half--awakened creature, who +watched the world surging and receding around her, who grew tired even +of violets and bonbons, tired of the companionship of the indifferent, +hurt by the intimacy of the unfriendly; and I cannot believe that she +was I.... Can you?" + +"I can believe it; I once saw you then," I said. + +She looked up quickly. "Where?" + +"In Paris." + +"When?" + +"The day that they received the news from Mexico. You sat in your +carriage before the gates of the war office." + +"I remember," she said, staring at me. Then a slight shudder passed +over her. + +Presently she said: "Did you recognize me afterward at La Trappe?" + +"Yes,... you had grown more beautiful." + +She colored and bent her head. + +"You remembered me all that time?... But why didn't you--didn't +you--" She laughed nervously. "Why didn't we know each other in those +years? Truly, Monsieur Scarlett, I needed a friend then, if ever;... a +friend who thought first of me and last of himself." + +I did not answer. + +"Fancy," she continued, "your passing me so long ago,... and I +totally unconscious, sitting there in my carriage,... never dreaming +of this friendship which I ... care for so much!... Do you remember at +La Trappe what I told you, there on the staircase?--how sometimes the +impulse used to come to me when I saw a kindly face in the street to +cry out, 'Be friends with me!' Do you remember?... It is strange that +I did not feel that impulse when you passed me that day in Paris--feel +it even though I did not see you--for I sorely needed kindness then, +kindness and wisdom; and both passed by, at my elbow,... and I did not +know." She bent her head, smiling with an effort. "You should have +thrown yourself astride the horse and galloped away with me.... They +did those things once, Monsieur Scarlett--on this very spot, too, in +the days of the Saxon pirates." + +The whirring monotone of the spinning-wheel suddenly filled the house; +Sylvia was singing at her wheel: + + "Woe to the maids of Paradise! + Yvonne! + Twice have the Saxons landed; twice! + Yvonne! + Yet shall Paradise see them thrice, + Yvonne! Yvonne! Marivonik!" + +"The prophecy of that Breton spinning song is being fulfilled," I +said. "For the third time we Saxons have come to Paradise, you see." + +"But this time our Saxons are not very formidable," she said, raising +her beautiful gray eyes; "and the gwerz says, 'Woe to the maids of +Paradise!' Do you intend to bring woe upon us maids of Paradise--do +you come to carry us off, monsieur?" + +"If you will go with--me," I said, smiling. + +"All of us?" + +"Only one, madame." + +She started to speak, then her eyes fell. She laughed uncertainly. +"Which one among us, if you please--mizilour skler ha brillant deuz +ar fidelite?" + +"Met na varwin Ket Kontant, ma na varwan fidel," I said, slowly, as +the words of the song came back to me. "I shall choose only the +fairest and loveliest, madame. You know it is always that way in the +story." My voice was not perfectly steady, nor was hers when she +smiled and wished me happiness and a long life with the maid of +Paradise I had chosen, even though I took her by force. + +Then constraint crept in between us, and I was grimly weighing the +friendship this woman had given me--weighing it in the balance against +a single hope. + +Once she looked across at me with questioning eyes in which I thought +I read dawning disappointment. It almost terrified me.... I could not +lose her confidence,... I could not, and go through life without +it.... But I could live a hopeless life to its end with that +confidence.... And I must do so,... and be content. + +"I suppose," said I, thinking aloud, "that I had better go to +England." + +"When?" she asked, without raising her head. + +"In a day or two. I can find employment there, I think." + +"Is it necessary that you find employment ... so soon?" + +"Yes," I said, with a meaningless laugh, "I fear it is." + +"What will you do?" + +"Oh, the army--horses--something of that kind. Riding-master, +perhaps--perhaps Scotland Yard. I may not be able to pick and +choose.... If I ever save enough money for the voyage, perhaps you +would let me come, once in a long while, to pay my respects, madame?" + +"Yes,... come, if you wish." + +She said no more, nor did I. Presently Sylvia appeared with a peasant +woman, and the young countess went away, followed by the housekeeper +with her keys at her girdle. + +I rose and walked to the window; then, nerveless and depressed, I went +out into the garden again to smoke a cigar. + +The cat had disappeared; I traversed the garden, passed through the +side wicket, and found myself on the cliffs. Almost immediately I was +aware of a young girl, a child, seated on the rocks, her chin propped +on her hands, the sea-wind blowing her curly elf-locks across her +cheeks and eyes. A bundle tied in a handkerchief lay beside her; a cat +dozed in her lap, its sleek fur stirring in the wind. + +"Jacqueline!" I said, gently. + +She raised her head; the movement awakened the cat, who stood up in +her lap, stretching and yawning vigorously. + +"I thought you were to sail from Lorient to-day?" + +The cat stopped purring from her knees; the child rose, pushing back +her hair from her eyes with both hands. + +"Where is Speed?" she asked, drowsily. + +"Did you want to see him, Jacqueline?" + +"That is why I returned." + +"To see Speed?" + +"Parbleu." + +"And you are going to let the others sail without you?" + +"Yes." + +"And give up the circus forever, Jacqueline?" + +"Y-es." + +"Just because you want to see Speed?" + +"Only for that." + +She stood rubbing her eyes with her small fists, as though just +awakened. + +"Oui," she said, without emotion, "c'est comme ça, m'sieu. Where +the heart is, happiness lies. I left the others at the city gate; I +said, 'Voyons, let us be reasonable, gentlemen. I am happy in your +circus; I am happy with Speed; I can be contented without your circus, +but I cannot be contented without Speed. Voilà!'... and then I went." + +"You walked back all the way from Lorient?" + +"Bien sûr! I have no carriage--I, Jacqueline." She stretched her slim +figure, raised her arms slowly, and yawned. "Pardon," she murmured, +"I have slept in the gorse--badly." + +"Come into the garden," I said; "we can talk while you rest." + +She thanked me tranquilly, picked up her bundle, and followed me with +a slight limp. The cat, tail up, came behind. + +The young countess was standing at the window as we approached in +solemn single file along the path, and when she caught sight of us she +opened the door and stepped out on the tiny porch. + +"Why, this is our little Jacqueline," she said, quickly. "They have +taken your father for the conscription, have they not, my child? And +now you are homeless!" + +"I think so, madame." + +"Then you will stay with me until he returns, won't you, little +one?" + +There was a moment's pause; Jacqueline made a grave gesture. "This is +my cat, madame--Ange Pitou." + +The countess stared at the cat, then broke out into the prettiest peal +of laughter. "Of course you must bring your cat! My invitation is +also for Ange Pitou, you understand." + +"Then we thank you, and permit ourselves to accept, madame," said +Jacqueline. "We are very glad because we are quite hungry, and we +have thorns from the gorse in our feet--" She broke off with a joyous +little cry: "There is Speed!" And Speed, entering the garden +hurriedly, stopped short in his tracks. + +The child ran to him and threw both arms around his neck. "Oh, Speed! +Speed!" she stammered, over and over again. "I was too lonely; I will +do what you wish; I will be instructed in the graces of +education--truly I will. I am glad to come back--and I am so tired, +Speed. I will never go away from you again.... Oh, Speed, I am +contented!... Do you love me?" + +"Dearly, little sweetheart," he said, huskily, trying to steady his +voice. "There! Madame the countess is waiting. All will be well now." +He turned, smiling, toward the young countess, and lifted his hat, +then stepped back and fixed me with a blank look of dismay, which said +perfectly plainly that he had unpleasant news to communicate. The +countess, I think, saw that look, too, for she gave me an almost +imperceptible nod and took Jacqueline's hand in hers. + +"If there are thorns in your feet we must find them," she said, +sweetly. "Will you come, Jacqueline?" + +"Yes, madame," said the child, with an adoring smile at Speed, who +bent and kissed her upturned face as she passed. + +They went into the house, the countess holding Jacqueline's +thorn-scratched hand, the cat following, perfectly self-possessed, to +the porch, where she halted and sat down, surveying the landscape with +dignified indifference. + +"Well," said I, turning to Speed, "what new deviltry is going on in +Paradise now?" + +"Preparations for train-wrecking, I should say," he replied, bluntly. +"They are tinkering with the trestle. Buckhurst's ragamuffins have +just seized the railroad station at Rose-Sainte-Anne, where the main +line crosses, you know, near the ravine at Lammerin. I was sure there +was something extraordinary going to happen, so I went down to the +river, hailed Jeanne Rolland, the passeuse, and had her ferry me over +to Bois-Gilbert. Then I made for the telegraph, gave the operator ten +francs to let me work the keys, and called up the arsenal at Lorient. +But it was no use, Scarlett, the governor of Lorient can't spare a +soldier--not a single gendarme. It seems that Uhlans have been +signalled north of Quimper, and Lorient is frantic, and the garrison +is preparing to stand siege." + +"You mean," I said, indignantly, "that they're not going to try to +catch Buckhurst and Mornac?" + +"That's what I mean; they're scared as rabbits over these rumors of +Uhlans in the west and north." + +"Well," said I, disgusted, "it appears to me that Buckhurst is going +to get off scot-free this time--and Mornac, too! Did you know that +Mornac was here?" + +"Know it? I saw him an hour ago, marshalling a new company of +malcontents in the square--a bad lot, Scarlett--deserters from +Chanzy's army, from Bourbaki, from Garibaldi--a hundred or more line +soldiers, dragoons without horses, francs-tireurs, Garibaldians, even +a Turco, from Heaven knows where--bad soldiers who disgrace +France--marauders, cowardly, skulking mobiles--a sweet lot, Scarlett, +to be let loose in Madame de Vassart's vicinity." + +"I think so, too," I said, seriously. + +"And I earnestly agree with you," muttered Speed. "That's all _I_ +have to report, except that your friend, Robert the Lizard, is out +yonder flat on his belly under a gorse-bush, and he wants to see +you." + +"The Lizard!" I exclaimed. "Come on, Speed. Where is he?" + +"Yonder, clothed in somebody's line uniform. He's one of them. +Scarlett, do you trust him? He has a rifle." + +"Yes, yes," I said, impatiently. "Come on, man! It's all right; the +fellow is watching Buckhurst for me." And I gave Speed a nervous push +toward the moors. We started, Speed ostentatiously placing his +revolver in his side-pocket so that he could shoot through his coat if +necessary. I walked beside him, closely scanning the stretch of open +moor for a sign of life, knowing all the while that it is easier to +catch moon-beams in a net than to find a poacher in the bracken. But +Speed had marked him down as he might mark a squatting quail, and +suddenly we flushed him, rifle clapped to his shoulder. + +"None of that, my friend," growled Speed; but the poacher at sight of +me had already lowered the weapon. + +I greeted him frankly, offering my hand; he took it, then his hard +fist fell away and he touched his cap. + +"I have done what you wanted," he said, sullenly. "I have the +company's rolls--here they are." He dragged from his baggy trousers +pockets a mass of filthy papers, closely covered with smeared writing. +"Here is the money, too," he said, fishing in the other pocket; and, +to my astonishment, he produced a flattened, soiled mass of +bank-notes. "Count it," he added, calmly. + +"What money is that?" I asked, taking it reluctantly. + +"Didn't you warn me to get that box--the steel box that Tric-Trac sat +down on when he saw me?" + +"Is that money from the box?" I exclaimed. + +"Yes, m'sieu. I could not bring the box, and there had been enough +blood shed over it already. Besides, when Buckhurst broke it open +there was only a bit of iron for the scrap-heap left." + +I touched Speed's arm to call his attention; the poacher shrugged his +shoulders and continued: "Tric-Trac made no ceremony with me; he +told me that he and Buckhurst had settled this Dr. Delmont, and the +other--the professor--Tavernier." + +"Murdered them?" muttered Speed. + +"Dame!--the coup du Père François is murder, I suppose." + +Speed turned to me. "That's the argot for strangling," he said, +grimly. + +"Go on," I motioned to the poacher. "How did you get the money?" + +"Oh, pour ça--in my turn I turned sonneur," he replied, with a savage +smile. + +A _sonneur_, in thieves' slang, is a creature of the footpad type who, +tripping his victim flat, seizes him by the shoulders and beats his +head against the pavement until he renders him unconscious--if he +doesn't kill him. + +"It was pay-day," continued the Lizard. "Buckhurst opened the box +and I heard him--he hammered it open with a cold chisel. I was +standing guard on the forest's edge; I crept back, hearing the +hammering and the little bell ringing the Angelus of Tric-Trac. It was +close to dusk; by the time he got into the box it was dark in the +woods, and it was easy to jump on his back and strike--not very hard, +m'sieu--but, I tell you, Buckhurst lay for two days with eyes like a +sick owl's! He knew one of his own men had done it. He never said a +word, but I know he thinks it was Tric-Trac.... And when he is +ready--bon soir, Tric-Trac!" + +He drew his right hand across his corded throat with a horridly +suggestive motion. Speed watched him narrowly. + +I asked the poacher why Buckhurst had come to Paradise, and why his +banditti had seized the railroad at Rose-Sainte-Anne. + +"Ah," cried the Lizard, with a ferocious leer, "that is the kernel +under the limpet's tent! And I have uncovered it--I, Robert Garenne, +bon sang de Jésu!" + +He stretched out his powerful arm toward the sea. "Where is that +cruiser, m'sieu? Gone? Yes, but who sent her off? Buckhurst, with his +new signal-book! Where? In chase of a sea-swallow, or a frigate +(bird). Who knows? Listen, messieurs! We are to wreck the train for +Brest to-night. Do you comprehend?" + +"Where?" I asked, quietly. + +"Just where the trestle at Lammerin crosses the ravine below the +house of Josephine Tanguy." + +Speed looked around at me. "It's the treasure-train from Lorient. +They're probably sending the crown diamonds back to Brest in view of +the Uhlans being seen near Quimper." + +"On a false order?" + +"I believe so. I believe that Buckhurst sent the cruiser to Brest, +and now he's started the treasure-trains back to Brest in a panic." + +"That is the truth," said the Lizard; "Tric-Trac told me. They have +the code-book of Mornac." His eyes began to light up with that +terrible anger as the name of his blood enemy fell from his lips; his +nose twitched; his upper lip wrinkled into a snarl. + +I thought quietly for a moment, then asked the poacher whether there +was a guard at the semaphore of Saint-Yssel. + +"Yes, the soldier Rolland, who says he understands the telegraph--a +sot from Morlaix." He hesitated and looked across the open moor toward +Paradise. "I must go," he muttered; "I am on guard yonder." + +I offered him my hand again; he took it, looking me sincerely in the +eyes. + +"Let your private wrongs wait a little longer," I said. "I think we +can catch Buckhurst and Mornac alive. Do you promise?" + +"Y-es," he replied. + +"Strike, then, like a Breton!" + +We struck palms heavily. Then he turned to Speed and motioned him to +retire. + +Speed walked slowly toward a half-buried bowlder and sat down out of +ear-shot. + +"For your sake," said the poacher, clutching my hand in a tightening +grip--"for your sake I have let Mornac go--let him pass me at +arm's-length, and did not strike. You have dealt openly by me--and +justly. No man can say I betrayed friendship. But I swear to you that +if you miss him this time, I shall not miss--I, Robert the Lizard!" + +"You mean to kill Mornac?" I asked. + +His eyes blazed. + +"Ami," he said, "I once spoke of '_a little red deer_,' and you half +understood me, for you are wise in strange ways, as I am." + +"I remember," I said. + +His strong fingers closed tighter on my hand. "Woman--or doe--it's +all one now; and I am out of prison--the prison _he_ sent me to! Do +you understand that he wronged me--me, the soldier Garenne, in +garrison at Vincennes; he, the officer, the aristocrat?" + +He choked, crushing my hand in a spasmodic grip. "Ami, the little red +deer was beautiful--to me. He took her--the doe--a silly maid of +Paradise--and I was in irons, m'sieu, for three years." + +He glared at vacancy, tears falling from his staring eyes. + +"Your wife?" I asked, quietly. + +"Yes, ami." + +He dropped my numbed fingers and rubbed his eyes with the back of his +big hand. + +"Then Jacqueline is not your little daughter?" I asked, gravely. + +"Hers--not mine. That has been the most terrible of all for me--since +she died--died so young, too, m'sieu--and all alone--in Paris. If he +had not done that--if he had been kind to her. And she was only a +child, ami, yet he left her." + +All the ferocity in his eyes was gone; he raised a vacant, grief-lined +visage to meet mine, and stood stupidly, heavy hands hanging. + +Then, shoulders sloping, he shambled off into the thicket, trailing +his battered rifle. + +When he was very far away I motioned to Speed. + +"I think," said I, "that we had better try to do something at the +semaphore if we are going to stop that train in time." + + + + +XX + +THE SEMAPHORE + + +The telegraph station at the semaphore was a little, square, stone +hut, roofed with slate, perched high on the cliffs. A sun-scorched, +wooden signal-tower rose in front of it; behind it a line of telegraph +poles stretched away into perspective across the moors. Beyond the +horizon somewhere lay the war-port of Lorient, with its arsenal, armed +redoubts, and heavy bastions; beyond that was war. + +While we plodded on, hip deep, through gorse and thorn and heath, we +cautiously watched a spot of red moving to and fro in front of the +station; and as we drew nearer we could see the sentry very +distinctly, rifle slung muzzle down, slouching his beat in the +sunshine. + +He was a slovenly specimen, doubtless a deserter from one of the three +provincial armies now forming for the hopeless dash at Belfort and the +German eastern communications. + +When Speed and I emerged from the golden gorse into plain view the +sentinel stopped in his tracks, shoved his big, red hands into his +trousers pockets, and regarded us sulkily. + +"What are you going to do with this gentleman?" whispered Speed. + +"Reason with him, first," I said; "a louis is worth a dozen +kicks." + +The soldier left his post as we started toward him, and advanced, +blinking in the strong sunshine, meeting us half-way. + +"Now, bourgeois," he said, shaking his unkempt head, "this won't do, +you know. Orders are to keep off. And," he added, in a bantering tone, +"I'm here to enforce them. Allons! En route, mes amis!" + +"Are you the soldier Rolland?" I asked. + +He admitted that he was with prompt profanity, adding that if we +didn't like his name we had only to tell him so and he would arrange +the matter. + +I told him that we approved not only his name but his personal +appearance; indeed, so great was our admiration for him that we had +come clear across the Saint-Yssel moor expressly to pay our +compliments to him in the shape of a hundred-franc note. I drew it +from the soiled roll the Lizard had intrusted to me, and displayed it +for the sentinel's inspection. + +"Is that for me?" he demanded, unconvinced, plainly suspicious of +being ridiculed. + +"Under certain conditions," I said, "these five louis are for you." + +The soldier winked. "I know what you want; you want to go in yonder +and use the telegraph. What the devil," he burst out, "do all you +bourgeois want with that telegraph in there?" + +"Has anybody else asked to use it?" I inquired, disturbed. + +"Anybody else?" he mimicked. "Well, I think so; there's somebody in +there now--here, give your hundred francs or I tell you nothing, you +understand!" + +I handed him the soiled note. He scanned it with the inborn distrust +of the true malefactor, turned it over and over, and finally, +pronouncing it "en règle," shoved it cheerfully into the lining of +his red forage cap. + +"A hundred more if you answer my questions truthfully," I said, +amiably. + +"'Cré cochon!" he blurted out; "fire at will, comrade! I'll sell you +the whole cursed semaphore for a hundred more! What can I do for you, +captain?" + +"Who is in that hut?" + +"A lady--she comes often--she gives ten francs each time. Zut!--what +is ten francs when a gentleman gives a hundred! She pays me for my +complaisance--bon! Place aux dames! You pay me better--bon! I'm yours, +gentlemen. War is war, but money pulls the trigger!" + +The miserable creature cocked his forage-cap with a toothless smirk +and twisted his scant mustache. + +"Who is this lady who pays you ten francs?" I asked. + +"I do not know her name--but," he added, with an offensive leer, +"she's worth looking over by gentlemen like you. Do you want to see +her? She's in there click-clicking away on the key with her pretty +little fingers--bon sang! A morsel for a king, gentlemen." + +"Wait here," I said, disgusted, and walked toward the stone station. +The treacherous cur came running after me. "There's a side door," he +whispered; "step in there behind the partition and take a look at +her. She'll be done directly: she never stays more than fifteen +minutes. Then you can use the telegraph at your pleasure, captain." + +The side door was partly open; I stepped in noiselessly and found +myself in a small, dusky closet, partitioned from the telegraph +office. Immediately the rapid clicking of the Morse instrument came to +my ears, and mechanically I read the message by the sound as it +rattled on under the fingers of an expert: + +"--Must have already found out that the signals were not authorized +by the government. Before the _Fer-de-Lance_ returns to her station +the German cruiser ought to intercept her off Groix. Did you arrange +for this?" + +There was a moment's silence, then back came rattling the reply in the +Morse code, but in German: + +"Yes, all is arranged. The _Augusta_ took a French merchant vessel +off Pont Aven yesterday. The _Augusta_ ought to pass Groix this +evening. You are to burn three white lights from Point Paradise if a +landing-party is needed. It rests with you entirely." + +Another silence, then the operator in the next room began: + +"You say that Lorient is alarmed by rumors of Uhlans, and therefore +sends the treasure-train back to Brest. The train, you assure me, +carries the diamonds of the crown, bar-silver, gold, the Venus of +Milo, and ten battle-flags from the Invalides. Am I correct?" + +"Yes." + +"The insurgents here, under an individual in our pay, one John +Buckhurst, are preparing to wreck the train at the Lammerin trestle. + +"If the _Augusta_ can reach Point Paradise to-night, a landing-party +could easily scatter these insurgents, seize the treasures, and +re-embark in safety. + +"There is, you declare, nothing to fear from Lorient; the only thing, +then, to be dreaded is the appearance of the _Fer-de-Lance_ off Groix. +She is not now in sight; I will notify you if she appears. If she does +not come I will burn three white lights in triangle on Paradise +headland." + +A short pause, then: + +"Are there any Prussian cavalry near enough to help us?" + +And the answer: + +"Prussian dragoons are scouting toward Bannalec. I will send a +messenger to them if I can. This is all. Be careful. Good-bye." + +"Good-bye," clicked the instrument in the next room. There was a +rustle of skirts, a tap of small shoes on the stone floor. I leaned +forward and looked through the little partition window; Sylvia Elven +stood by the table, quietly drawing on her gloves. Her face was +flushed and thoughtful. + +Slowly she walked toward the door, hesitated, turned, hurried back to +the instrument, and set the switch. Then, without seating herself, she +leaned over and gave the station call, three _S's_. + +"I forgot to say that the two Yankee officers of military police, +Scarlett and Speed, are a harmless pair. You have nothing to fear from +them. Good-bye." + +And the reply: + +"Watch them all the same. Be careful, madame, they are Yankees. +Good-bye." + +When she had gone, closing the outer door behind her, I sprang to the +key, switched on, rattled out the three S's and got my man, probably +before he had taken three steps from his table. + +"I forgot to say," I telegraphed, using a light, rapid touch to +imitate Sylvia's--"I forgot to say that, in case the treasure-train +is held back to-night, the Augusta must run for the English Channel." + +"What's that?" came back the jerky reply. + +I repeated. + +"Donnerwetter!" rattled the wires. "The entire French iron-clad +fleet is looking for her." + +"And I hope they catch her," I telegraphed. + +"Are you crazy?" came the frantic reply. "Who are you?" + +"A Yankee, idiot!" I replied. "Run for your life, you hopeless +ass!" + +There was, of course, no reply, though I sent a few jocular remarks +flying after what must have been the most horrified German spy south +of Metz. + +Then, at a venture, I set the switch on the arsenal line, got a quick +reply, and succeeded in alarming them sufficiently, I think, for in a +few moments I was telegraphing directly to the governor of Lorient, +and the wires grew hot with an interchange of observations, which +resulted in my running to the locker, tumbling out all the signal +bunting, cones, and balls, sorting five flags, two red cones, and a +ball, and hastening out to the semaphore. + +Speed and the soldier Rolland saw me set the cones, hoist away, break +out the flags on the halyards, and finally drop the white arm of the +semaphore. + +I had set the signal for the _Fer-de-Lance_ to land in force and wipe +Buckhurst and his grotesque crew from the face of the earth. + +"Rolland," I said, "here is another hundred francs. Watch that +halyard and guard it. To-night you will string seven of those little +lamps on this other halyard, light them, hoist them, and then go up +that tower and light the three red lamps on the left." + +"'Tendu," he said, promptly. + +"If you do it I will give you two hundred francs to-morrow. Is it a +bargain?" + +The soldier broke out into a torrent of promises which I cut short. + +"That lady will never come here again, I think. If she does, she must +not touch those halyards. Do you hear? If she offers you money, +remember I will double it. But, Rolland, if you lie to _me_ I will +have you killed as the Bretons kill pigs; you understand how that is +done?" + +He said that he understood, and followed us, fawning and whining his +cowardly promises of fidelity until we ordered the wretch back to the +post which he had already twice betrayed, and would certainly betray +again if the opportunity offered. + +Walking fast over the springy heath, I told Speed briefly what I had +done--that the treasure-train would not now leave Lorient, that as +soon as the _Fer-de-Lance_ came in sight of the semaphore Buckhurst's +game must come to an end. + +Far ahead of us we saw the flutter of a light dress on the moor; +Sylvia Elven, the spy, was going home; and from the distance, across +the yellow-flowered gorse, her gay song floated back to us: + + "Those who die for a maid + Are paid; + Those who die for a creed + God-speed; + Those who die for their own dear land + Shall stand forever on God's right hand!--" + +"A spy!" muttered Speed. + +"I think," said I, "that she had better leave Paradise at once. Oh, +the little fool, to risk all for a caprice--for a word to the poor +fellow she ruined! Vanity does it every time, Speed." + +"I don't understand what you mean," he said. + +"No, and I can't explain," I replied, thinking of Kelly Eyre. "But +Sylvia Elven is running a fearful risk here. Mornac knows her record. +Buckhurst would betray her in a moment if he thought it might save his +own skin. She ought to leave before the _Fer-de-Lance_ sights the +semaphore and reads the signal to land in force." + +"Then you'll have to tell her," he said, gloomily. + +"I suppose so," I replied, not at all pleased. For the prospect of +humiliating her, of proving to this woman that I was not as stupid as +she believed me, gave me no pleasure. Rather was I sorry for her, +sorry for the truly pitiable condition in which she must now find +herself. + +As we reached the gates of Trécourt, dusty and tired from our moorland +tramp, I turned and looked back. My signal was still set; the white +arm of the semaphore glistened like silver against a brilliant sky of +sapphire. Seaward I could see no sign of the _Fer-de-Lance_. + +"The guns I heard at sea must have been fired from the German cruiser +_Augusta_," I suggested to Speed. "She's been hovering off the coast, +catching French merchant craft. I wish to goodness the _Fer-de-Lance_ +would come in and give her a drubbing." + +"Oh, rubbish!" he said. "What the deuce do we care?" + +"It's human to take sides in this war, isn't it?" I insisted. + +"Considering the fashion in which France has treated us individually, +it seems to me that we may as well take the German side," he said. + +"Are you going to?" I asked. + +He hesitated. "Oh, hang it all, no! There's something about France +that holds us poor devils--I don't know what. Barring England, she's +the only human nation in the whole snarling pack. Here's to her--damn +her impudence! If she wants me she can have me--empire, kingdom, or +republic. Vive anything--as long as it's French!" + +I was laughing when we entered the court; Jacqueline, her big, furry +cat in her arms, came to the door and greeted Speed with: + +"You have been away a very long time, and the thorns are all out of +my arms and my legs, and I have been desiring to see you. Come into +the house and read--shall we?" + +Speed turned to me with an explanatory smile. "I've been reading the +'Idyls' aloud to her in English," he said, rather shyly. "She seems +to like them; it's the noble music that attracts her; she can't +understand ten words." + +"I can understand nearly twenty," she said, flushing painfully. + +Speed, who had no thought of hurting her, colored up, too. + +"You don't comprehend, little one," he said, quickly. "It was in +praise, not in blame, that I spoke." + +"I knew it--I am silly," she said, with quick tears trembling in her +eyes. "You know I adore you, Speed. Forgive me." + +She turned away into the house, saying that she would get the book. + +"Look here, Speed," I said, troubled, "Jacqueline is very much like +the traditional maid of romance, which I never believed existed--all +unspoiled, frankly human, innocently daring, utterly ignorant of +convention. She's only a child now, but another year or two will bring +something else to her." + +"Don't you suppose I've thought of that?" he said, frowning. + +"I hope you have." + +"Well, I have. When I find enough to do to keep soul and body +friendly I'm going to send her to school, if that old ruffian, her +father, allows it." + +"I think he will," I said, gravely; "but after that?" + +"After what?" + +"After she's educated and--unhappy?" + +"She isn't any too happy now," he retorted. + +"Granted. But after you have spent all your money on her, what +then?" + +"What do you mean?" + +"I mean that you'll have no child to deal with, but a woman in full +bloom, a woman fairly aquiver with life and intelligence, a +high-strung, sensitive, fine-grained creature, whose educated +ignorance will not be educated innocence, remember that! And I tell +you, Speed, it's the heaviest responsibility a man can assume." + +"I know it," he replied. + +"Then it's all right, if you do know it," I said, cheerfully. "All I +can say is, I am thankful she isn't to spend her life in the circus." + +"Or meet death there," he added. "It's not to our credit that she +escapes it." + +Jacqueline came dancing back to the porch, cat under one arm, book +under the other, so frankly happy, so charmingly grateful for Speed's +society, that the tragedy of the lonely child touched me very deeply. +I strove to discover any trace of the bar sinister in her, but could +not, though now I understood, from her parentage, how it was possible +for a poacher's child to have such finely sculptured hands and feet. +Perhaps her dark, silky lashes and hair were Mornac's, but if this was +so, I trusted that there the aristocratic blood had spent its force in +the frail body of this child of chance. + +I went into the house, leaving them seated on the porch, heads +together, while in a low monotone Speed read the deathless "Morte +d'Arthur." + +Daylight was waning. + +Out of the west a clear, greenish sky, tinged with saffron tints, +promised a sea-wind. But the mild land-breeze was still blowing and +the ebb-tide flowing as I entered the corridor and glanced at the +corner where the spinning-wheel stood. Sylvia sat beside it, reading +in the Lutheran Bible by the failing light. + +She raised her dreamy eyes as I passed; I had never seen her piquantly +expressive face so grave. + +"May I speak to you alone a moment, after dinner?" I asked. + +"If you wish," she replied. + +I bowed and started on, but she called me back. + +"Did you know that Monsieur Eyre is here?" + +"Kelly Eyre?" + +"Oui, monsieur. He returns with an order from the governor of Lorient +for the balloon." + +I was astonished, and asked where Eyre had gone. + +"He is in your room," she said, "loading your revolver. I hope you +will not permit him to go alone to Paradise." + +"I'll see about that," I muttered, and hurried up the stairs and down +the hallway to my bedchamber. + +He sprang to the door as I entered, giving me both hands in boyish +greeting, saying how delighted they all were to know that my injury +had proved so slight. + +"That balloon robbery worried me," he continued. "I knew that Speed +depended on his balloon for a living; so as soon as we entered Lorient +I went to our consul, and he and I made such a row that the governor +of Lorient gave me an order for the balloon. Here it is, Mr. +Scarlett." + +His heightened color and excitement, his nervous impetuosity, were not +characteristic of this quiet and rather indifferent young countryman +of mine. + +I looked at him keenly but pleasantly. + +"You are going to load my revolver, and go over to Paradise and take +that balloon from these bandits?" I asked, smiling. + +"An order is all right, but it is the more formal when backed by a +bullet," he said. + +"Do you mean to tell me that you were preparing to go over into that +hornet's nest alone?" + +He shrugged his shoulders with a reckless laugh. + +"Give me my revolver," I said, coldly. + +His face fell. "Let me take it, Mr. Scarlett," he pleaded; but I +refused, and made him hand me the weapon. + +"Now," I said, sternly, "I want to know what the devil you mean by +attempting suicide? Do you suppose that those ruffians care a straw +for you and your order? Kelly, what's the matter with you? Is life as +unattractive as all that?" + +His flushed and sullen face darkened. + +"If you want to risk your life," I said, "you have plenty of chances +in your profession. Did you ever hear of an aged aëronaut? Kelly, go +back to America and break your neck like a gentleman." + +He darted a menacing glance at me, but there was nothing of irony in +my sober visage. + +"You appear here," I said, "after the others have sailed from +Lorient. Why? To do Speed this generous favor? Yes--and to do yourself +the pleasure of ending an embittered life under the eyes of the woman +who ruined you." + +The boy flinched as though I had struck him in the face. For a moment +I expected a blow; his hands clinched convulsively, and he focussed me +with blazing eyes. + +"Don't," I said, quietly. "I am trying to be your friend; I am +trying to save you from yourself, Kelly. Don't throw away your +life--as I have done. Life is a good thing, Kelly, a good thing. Can +we not be friends though I tell you the truth?" + +The color throbbed and throbbed in his face. There was a chair near +him; he groped for it, and sat down heavily. + +"Life is a good thing," I said again, "but, Kelly, truth is better. +And I must tell you the--well, something of the truth--as much as you +need know ... now. My friend, _she is not worth it_." + +"Do you think that makes any difference?" he said, harshly. "Let me +alone, Scarlett. I know!... _I know_, I tell you!" + +"Do you mean to tell me that you know she deliberately betrayed you?" +I demanded. + +"Yes, I know it--I tell you I know it!" + +"And ... you love her?" + +"Yes." He dropped his haggard face on his arms a moment, then sat +bolt upright. "Truth is better than life," he said, slowly. "I lied +to you and to myself when I came back. I did come to get Speed's +balloon, but I came ... for her sake,... to be near her,... to see her +once more before I--" + +"Yes, I understand, Kelly." + +He winced and leaned wearily back. + +"You are right," he said; "I wanted to end it,... I am tired." + +I sat thinking for a moment; the light in the room faded to a glimmer +on the panes. + +"Kelly," I said, "there remains another way to risk your neck, and, +I think, a nobler way. There is in this house a woman who is running a +terrible risk--a German spy whose operations have been discovered. +This woman believes that she has in her pay the communist leader of +the revolt, a man called Buckhurst. She is in error. And she must +leave this house to-night." + +Eyre's face had paled. He bent forward, clasped hands between his +knees, eyes fastened on me. + +"There will be trouble here to-night--or, in all probability, within +the next twenty-four hours. I expect to see Buckhurst a prisoner. And +when that happens it will go hard with Mademoiselle Elven, for he will +turn on her to save himself.... And you know what that means;... a +blank wall, Kelly, and a firing-squad. There is but one sex for +spies." + +A deadly fear was stamped on his bloodless face. I saw it, tense and +quivering, in the gray light of the window. + +"She must leave to-night, Kelly. She must try to cross into Spain. +Will you help her?" + +He nodded, striving to say "yes." + +"You know your own risk?" + +"Yes." + +"Her company is death for you both if you are taken." + +He stood up very straight. In what strange forms comes happiness to +man! + + + + +XXI + +LIKE HER ANCESTORS + + +A sense of insecurity, of impending trouble, seemed to weigh upon us +all that evening--a physical depression, which the sea-wind brought +with its flying scud, wetting the window-panes like fine rain. + +At intervals from across the moors came the deadened rolling of +insurgent drums, and in the sky a ruddy reflection of a fire +brightened and waned as the fog thickened or blew inland--an ominous +sign of disorder, possibly even a reflection from that unseen war +raging somewhere beyond the obscured horizon. + +It may have been this indefinable foreboding that drew our little +company into a temporary intimacy; it may have been the immense +loneliness of the sea, thundering in thickening darkness, that stilled +our voices to whispers. + +Eyre, ill at ease, walked from window to window, looking at the +luminous tints on the ragged edges of the clouds; Sylvia, over her +heavy embroidery, lifted her head gravely at moments, to glance after +him when he halted listless, preoccupied, staring at Speed and +Jacqueline, who were drawing pictures of Arthur and his knights by the +lamp-lit table. + +I leaned in the embrasure of the southern window, gazing at my lighted +lanterns, which dangled from the halyards at Saint-Yssel. The soldier +Rolland had so far kept his word--three red lamps glimmered through a +driving mist; the white lanterns hung above, faintly shining. + +Full in the firelight of the room sat the young Countess, lost in +reverie, hands clasping the gilt arms of her chair. At her feet dozed +Ange Pitou. + +The dignity of a parvenu cat admitted for the first time to unknown +luxury is a lesson. I said this to the young Countess, who smiled +dreamily, watching the play of color over the drift-wood fire. A +ship's plank was burning there, tufted with golden-green flames. +Presently a blaze of purest carmine threw a deeper light into the +room. + +"I wonder," she said, "what people sailed in that ship--and when? +Did they perish on this coast when their ship perished? A drift-wood +fire is beautiful, but a little sad, too." She looked up pensively +over her shoulder. "Will you bring a chair to the fire?" she asked. +"We are burning part of a great ship--for our pleasure, monsieur. +Tell me what ship it was; tell me a story to amuse me--not a +melancholy one, if you please." + +I drew a chair to the blaze; the drift-wood burned gold and violet, +with scarcely a whisper of its velvet flames. + +"I am afraid my story is not going to be very cheerful," I said, +"and I am also afraid that I must ask you to listen to it." + +She met my eyes with composure, leaned a little toward me, and +waited. + +And so, sitting there in the tinted glare, I told her of the death of +Delmont and of Tavernier, and of Buckhurst's share in the miserable +work. + +I spoke in a whisper scarcely louder than the rustle of the flames, +watching the horror growing in her face. + +I told her that the money she had intrusted to them for the Red Cross +was in my possession, and would be forwarded at the first chance; that +I hoped to bring Buckhurst to justice that very night. + +"Madame, I am paining you," I said; "but I am going to cause you +even greater unhappiness." + +"Tell me what is necessary," she said, forming the words with +tightened lips. + +"Then I must tell you that it is necessary for Mademoiselle Elven to +leave Trécourt to-night." + +She looked at me as though she had not heard. + +"It is absolutely necessary," I repeated. "She must go secretly. She +must leave her effects; she must go in peasant's dress, on foot." + +"Why?" + +"It is better that I do not tell you, madame." + +"Tell me. It is my right to know." + +"Not now; later, if you insist." + +The young Countess passed one hand over her eyes as though dazed. + +"Does Sylvia know this?" she asked, in a shocked voice. + +"Not yet." + +"And you are going to tell her?" + +"Yes, madame." + +"This is dreadful," she muttered.... "If I did not know you,... if I +did not trust you so perfectly,... trust you with all my heart!... Oh, +are you certain she must go? It frightens me; it is so strange! I have +grown fond of her.... And now you say that she must go. I cannot +understand--I cannot." + +"No, you cannot understand," I repeated, gently; "but she can. It is +a serious matter for Mademoiselle Elven; it could not easily be more +serious. It is even perhaps a question of life or death, madame." + +"In Heaven's name, help her, then!" she said, scarcely controlling +the alarm that brought a pitiful break in her voice. + +"I am trying to," I said. "And now I must consult Mademoiselle +Elven. Will you help me?" + +"What can I do?" she asked, piteously. + +"Stand by that window. Look, madame, can you see the lights on the +semaphore?" + +"Yes." + +"Count them aloud." + +She counted the white lights for me, then the red ones. + +"Now," I said, "if those lights change in number or color or +position, come instantly to me. I shall be with Mademoiselle Elven in +the little tea-room. But," I added, "I do not expect any change in +the lights; it is only a precaution." + +I left her in the shadow of the curtains, and passed through the room +to Sylvia's side. She looked up quietly from her embroidery frame, +then, dropping the tinted silks and needles on the cloth, rose and +walked beside me past Eyre, who stood up as we came abreast of him. + +Sylvia paused. "Monsieur Eyre," she said, "I have a question to ask +you ... some day," and passed on with a smile and a slight inclination +of her head, leaving Eyre looking after her with heavy eyes. + +When we entered the little tea-room she passed on to the lounge and +seated herself on the padded arm; I turned, closed the door, and +walked straight toward her. + +She glanced up at me curiously; something in my face appeared to sober +her, for the amused smile on her lips faded before I spoke. + +"What is it?" she asked. + +"I am sorry to tell you," I said--"sorry from my heart. You are not +very friendly to me, and that makes it harder for me to say what I +have to say." + +She was watching me intently out of her pretty, intelligent eyes. + +"What do you mean?" she asked, guardedly. + +"I mean that you cannot stay here," I said. "And you know why." + +The color flooded her face, and she stood up, confronting me, +exasperated, defiant. + +"Will you explain this insult?" she asked, hotly. + +"Yes. You are a German spy," I said, under my breath. + +There was no color in her face now--nothing but a glitter in her blue +eyes and a glint from the small, white teeth biting her lower lip. + +"French troops will land here to-night or to-morrow," I went on, +calmly. "You will see how dangerous your situation is certain to +become when Buckhurst is taken, and when it is understood _what use +you have made of the semaphore_." + +She winced, then straightened and bent her steady gaze on me. Her +courage was admirable. + +"I thank you for telling me," she said, simply. "Have I a chance to +reach the Spanish frontier?" + +"I think you have," I replied. "Kelly Eyre is going with you +when--" + +"He? No, no, he must not! Does he know what I am?" she broke in, +impetuously. + +"Yes, mademoiselle; and he knows what happens to spies." + +"Did he offer to go?" she asked, incredulously. + +"Mademoiselle, he insists." + +Her lip began to tremble. She turned toward the window, where the +sea-fog flew past in the rising wind, and stared out across the +immeasurable blackness of the ocean. + +Without turning her head she said: "Does he know that it may mean his +death?" + +"He has suffered worse for your sake!" I said, bitterly. + +"What?" she flashed out, confronting me in an instant. + +"You must know that," I said--"three years of hell--prison--utter +ruin! Do you dare deny you have been ignorant of this?" + +For a space she stood there, struck speechless; then, "Call him!" she +cried. "Call him, I tell you! Bring him here--I want him here--here +before us both!" She sprang to the door, but I blocked her way. + +"I will not have Madame de Vassart know what you did to him!" I said. +"If you want Kelly Eyre, I will call him." And I stepped into the +hallway. + +Eyre, passing the long stone corridor, looked up as I beckoned; and +when he entered the tea-room, Sylvia, white as a ghost, met him face +to face. + +"Monsieur," she said, harshly, "why did you not come to that +book-store?" + +He was silent. His face was answer enough--a terrible answer. + +"Monsieur Eyre, speak to me! Is it true? Did they--did you not know +that I made an error--that I _did_ go on Monday at the same hour?" + +His haggard face lighted up; she saw it, and caught his hands in +hers. + +"Did you think I knew?" she stammered. "Did you think I could do +that? They told me at the _usine_ that you had gone away--I thought +you had forgotten--that you did not care--" + +"Care!" he groaned, and bowed his head, crushing her hands over his +face. + +Then she broke down, breathless with terror and grief. + +"I was not a spy then--truly I was not, Kelly. There was no harm in +me--I only--only asked for the sketches because--because--I cared for +you. I have them now; no soul save myself has ever seen them--even +afterward, when I drifted into intrigue at the Embassy--when everybody +knew that Bismarck meant to force war--everybody except the French +people--I never showed those little sketches! They were--were mine! +Kelly, they were all I had left when you went away--to a +fortress!--and I did not know!--I did not know!" + +"Hush!" he groaned. "It is all right--it is all right now." + +"Do you believe me?" + +"Yes, yes. Don't cry--don't be unhappy--now." + +She raised her head and fumbled in her corsage with shaking fingers, +and drew from her bosom a packet of papers. + +"Here are the sketches," she sobbed; "they have cost you dear! Now +leave me--hate me! Let them come and take me--I do not want to live +any more. Oh, what punishment on earth!" + +Her suffering was unendurable to the man who had suffered through her; +he turned on me, quivering in every limb. + +"We must start," he said, hoarsely. "Give me your revolver." + +I drew it from my hip-pocket and passed it to him. + +"Scarlett," he began, "if we don't reach--" + +A quick rapping at the door silenced him; the young Countess stood in +the hallway, bright-eyed, but composed, asking for me. + +"The red and the white lights are gone," she said. "There are four +green lights on the tower and four blue lights on the halyards." + +I turned to Eyre. "This is interesting," I said, grimly. "I set +signals for the _Fer-de-Lance_ to land in force. Somebody has changed +them. You had better get ready to go." + +Sylvia had shrunk away from Eyre. The Countess looked at her blankly, +then at me. + +"Madame," I said, "there is little enough of happiness in the +world--so little that when it comes it should be welcomed, even by +those who may not share in it." + +And I bent nearer and whispered the truth. + +Then I went to Sylvia, who stood there tremulous, pallid. + +"You serve your country at a greater risk than do the soldiers of +your King," I said. "There is no courage like that which discounts a +sordid, unhonored death. You have my respect, mademoiselle." + +"Sylvia!" murmured the young Countess, incredulously; "you a +spy?--here--under my roof?" + +Sylvia unconsciously stretched out one hand toward her. + +Eyre stepped to her side, with an angry glance at Madame de Vassart. + +"I--I love you, madame," whispered Sylvia. "I only place my own +country first. Can you forgive me?" + +The Countess stood as though stunned; Eyre passed her slowly, +supporting Sylvia to the door. + +"Madame," I said, "will you speak to her? Your countries, not your +hearts, are at war. She did her duty." + +"A spy!" repeated the Countess, in a dull voice. "A spy! And she +brings this--this shame on me!" + +Sylvia turned, standing unsteadily. For a long time they looked at +each other in silence, their eyes wet with tears. Then Eyre lifted +Sylvia's hand and kissed it, and led her away, closing the door +behind. + +The Countess still stood in the centre of the room, transfixed, rigid, +staring through her tears at the closed door. With a deep-drawn breath +she straightened her shoulders; her head drooped; she covered her face +with clasped hands. + +Standing there, did she remember those who, one by one, had betrayed +her? Those who first whispered to her that love of country was a +narrow creed; those who taught her to abhor violence, and then failed +at the test--Bazard, firing to kill, going down to death under the +merciless lance of an Uhlan; Buckhurst, guilty of every crime that +attracted him; and now Sylvia, her friend, false to the salt she had +eaten, false to the roof above her, false, utterly false to all save +the land of her nativity. + +And she, Éline de Trécourt, a soldier's daughter and a Frenchwoman, +had been used as a shield by those who were striking her own +mother-land--the country she once had denied; the country whose +frontiers she knew not in her zeal for limitless brotherhood; the +blackened, wasted country she had seen at Strasbourg; the land for +which the cuirassiers of Morsbronn had died! + +"What have I done?" she cried, brokenly--"what have I done that this +shame should come upon me?" + +"You have done nothing," I said, "neither for good nor evil in this +crisis. But Sylvia has; Sylvia the spy. That a man should give up his +life for a friend is good; that a woman offer hers for her country is +better. What has it cost her? The friendship of the woman she +worships--you, madame! It has cost her that already, and the price may +include her life and the life of the man she loves. She has done her +duty; the sacrifice is still burning; I pray it may spare her and +spare him." + +I walked to the door and laid my hand on the brass knob. + +"The world is merciless to failures," I said. "Yet even a successful +spy is scarcely tolerated among the Philistines; a captured spy is a +horror for friends to forget and for enemies to destroy in righteous +indignation. Madame, I know, for I have served your country in Algiers +as a spy,... not from patriotism, for I am an alien, but because I was +fitted for it in my line of duty. Had I been caught I should have +looked for nothing but contempt from France; from the Kabyle, for +neither admiration nor mercy. I tell you this that you may understand +my respect for this woman, whose motives are worthy of it." + +The Countess looked at me scornfully. "It is well," she said, "for +those who understand and tolerate treachery to condone it. It is well +that the accused be judged by their peers. We of Trécourt know only +one tongue. But that is the language of truth, monsieur. All else is +foreign." + +"Where did the nobility learn this tongue--to our exclusion?" I +asked, bluntly. + +"When our forefathers faced the tribunals!" she flashed out. "Did +you ever hear of a spy among us? Did you ever hear of a lie among +us?" + +"You have been taught history by your peers, madame," I said, with a +bow; "I have been taught history by mine." + +"The sorry romance!" she said, bitterly. "It has brought me to +this!" + +"It has brought others to their senses," I said, sharply. + +"To their knees, you mean!" + +"Yes--to their knees at last." + +"To the guillotine--yes!" + +"No, madame, to pray for their native land--too late!" + +"I think," she said, "that we are not fitted to understand each +other." + +"It remains," I said, "for me to thank you for your kindness to us +all, and for your generosity to me in my time of need.... It is quite +useless for me to dream of repaying it.... I shall never forget it.... +I ask leave to make my adieux, madame." + +She flushed to her temples, but did not answer. + +As I stood looking at her, a vivid flare of light flashed through the +window behind me, crimsoning the walls, playing over the ceiling with +an infernal radiance. At the same instant the gate outside crashed +open, a hubbub of voices swelled into a roar; then the outer doors +were flung back and a score of men sprang into the hallway, soldiers +with the red torch-light dancing on rifle-barrels and bayonets. + +And before them, revolver swinging in his slender hand, strode +Buckhurst, a red sash tied across his breast, his colorless eyes like +diamonds. + +Speed and Jacqueline came hurrying through the hall to where I stood; +Buckhurst's smile was awful as his eyes flashed from Speed to me. + +Behind him, close to his shoulder, the torch-light fell on Mornac's +smooth, false face, stretched now into a ferocious grimace; behind him +crowded the soldiers of the commune, rifles slung, craning their +unshaven faces to catch a glimpse of us. + +"Demi-battalion, halt!" shouted an officer, and flung up his naked +sabre. + +"Halt," repeated Buckhurst, quietly. + +Madame de Vassart's servants had come running from kitchen and stable +at the first alarm, and now stood huddled in the court-yard, +bewildered, cowed by the bayonets which had checked them. + +"Buckhurst," I said, "what the devil do you mean by this foolery?" +and I started for him, shouldering my way among his grotesque escort. + +For an instant I looked into his deadly eyes; then he silently +motioned me back; a dozen bayonets were levelled, forcing me to +retire, inch by inch, until I felt Speed's grip on my arm. + +"That fellow means mischief," he whispered. "Have you a pistol?" + +"I gave mine to Eyre," I said, under my breath. "If he means us +harm, don't resist or they may take revenge on the Countess. Speed, +keep her in the room there! Don't let her come out." + +But the Countess de Vassart was already in the hall, facing Buckhurst +with perfect composure. + +Twice she ordered him to leave; he looked up from his whispered +consultation with Mornac and coolly motioned her to be silent. + +Once she spoke to Mornac, quietly demanding a reason for the outrage, +and Mornac silenced her with a brutal gesture. + +"Madame," I said, "it is I they want. I beg you to retire." + +"You are my guest," she said. "My place is here." + +"Your place is where I please to put you!" broke in Mornac; and to +Buckhurst: "I tell you she's as guilty as the others. Let me attend +to this and make a clean sweep!" + +"Citizen Mornac will endeavor to restrain his zeal," observed +Buckhurst, with a sneer. And then, as I looked at this slender, pallid +man, I understood who was the dominant power behind the curtain; and +so did Speed, for I felt him press my elbow significantly. + +He turned and addressed us, suavely, bowing with a horrid, mock +deference to the Countess: + +"In the name of the commune! The ci-devant Countess de Vassart is +accused of sheltering the individual Scarlett, late inspector of +Imperial Police; the individual Speed, ex-inspector of Imperial +Gendarmes; the individual Eyre, under general suspicion; the woman +called Sylvia Elven, a German spy. As war-delegate of the commune, I +am here to accuse!" + +There was a silence, then a low, angry murmur from the soldiers, which +grew louder until Buckhurst turned on them. He did not utter a word, +but the sullen roar died out, a bayonet rattled, then all was still in +the dancing torch-light. + +"I accuse," continued Buckhurst, in a passionless voice, "the +individual Scarlett of treachery to the commune; of using the +telegraph for treacherous ends; of hoisting signals with the purpose +of attracting government troops to destroy us. I accuse the individual +Speed of aiding his companion in using the telegraph to stop the +government train, thus depriving the commune of the funds which +rightfully belong to it--the treasures wrung from wretched peasants by +the aristocrats of an accursed monarchy and a thrice-accursed +empire!" + +A roaring cheer burst from the excited soldiers, drowning the voice of +Buckhurst. + +"Silence!" shouted Mornac, savagely. And as the angry voices were +stilled, one by one, above the banging of rifle-stocks and the rattle +of bayonets, Buckhurst's calm voice rose in a sinister monotone. + +"I accuse the woman Sylvia Elven of communication with Prussian +agents; of attempted corruption of soldiers under my command. I accuse +the citoyenne Éline Trécourt, lately known as the Countess de Vassart, +of aiding, encouraging, and abetting these enemies of France!" + +He waited until the short, fierce yell of approval had died away. +Then: + +"Call the soldier Rolland!" he said. + +My heart began to hammer in my throat. "I believe it's going hard +with us," I muttered to Speed. + +"Listen," he motioned. + +I listened to the wretched creature Rolland while he told what had +happened at the semaphore. In his eagerness he pushed close to where I +stood, menacing me with every gesture, cursing and lashing himself +into a rage, ignoring all pretence of respect and discipline for his +own superiors. + +"What are you waiting for?" he shouted, insolently, turning on +Buckhurst. "I tell the truth; and if this man can afford to pay +hundreds of francs for a telegram, he must be rich enough to pluck, I +tell you!" + +"You say he bribed you?" asked Buckhurst, gently. + +"Yes; I've said it twenty times, haven't I?" + +"And you took the bribes?" + +"Parbleu!" + +"And you thought if you admitted it and denounced the man who bribed +you that you would help divide a few millions with us, you rogue?" +suggested Buckhurst, admiringly. + +The wretch laughed outright. + +"And you believe that you deserve well of the commune?" smiled +Buckhurst. + +The soldier grinned and opened his mouth to answer, and Buckhurst shot +him through the face; and, as he fell, shot him again, standing +wreathed in the smoke of his own weapon. + +The deafening racket of the revolver, the smoke, the spectacle of the +dusty, inert thing on the floor over which Buckhurst stood and shot, +seemed to stun us all. + +"I think," said Buckhurst, in a pleasantly persuasive voice, "that +there will be no more bribery in this battalion." He deliberately +opened the smoking weapon; the spent shells dropped one by one from +the cylinder, clinking on the stone floor. + +"No--no more bribery," he mused, touching the dead man with the +carefully polished toe of his shoe. "Because," he added, reloading +his revolver, "I do not like it." + +He turned quietly to Mornac and ordered the corpse to be buried, and +Mornac, plainly unnerved at the murderous act of his superior, +repeated the order, cursing his men to cover the quaver in his voice. + +"As for you," observed Buckhurst, glancing up at us where we stood +speechless together, "you will be judged and sentenced when this +drum-head court decides. Go into that room!" + +The Countess did not move. + +Speed touched her arm; she looked up quietly, smiled, and stepped +across the threshold. Speed followed; Jacqueline slipped in beside +him, and then I turned on Buckhurst, who had just ordered his soldiers +to surround the house outside. + +"As a matter of fact," I said, when the last armed ruffian had +departed, "I am the only person in this house who has interfered with +your affairs. The others have done nothing to harm you." + +"The court will decide that," he replied, balancing his revolver in +his palm. + +I eyed him for an instant. "Do you mean harm to this unfortunate +woman?" I asked. + +"My friend," he replied, in a low voice, "you have very stupidly +upset plans that have cost me months to perfect. You have, by stopping +that train, robbed me of something less than twenty millions of +francs. I have my labor for my pains; I have this mob of fools on my +hands; I may lose my life through this whim of yours; and if I don't, +I have it all to begin again. And you ask me what I am going to do!" + +His eyes glittered. + +"If I strike her I strike you. Ask yourself whether or not I will +strike." + +All the blood seemed to leave my heart; I straightened up with an +effort. + +"There are some murders," I said, "that even you must recoil at." + +"I don't think you appreciate me," he replied, with a deathly smile. + +He motioned toward the door with levelled weapon. I turned and entered +the tea-room, and he locked the door from the outside. + +The Countess, seated on the sofa, looked up as I appeared. She was +terribly pale, but she smiled as my heavy eyes met hers. + +"Is it to be farce or tragedy, monsieur?" she asked, without a tremor +in her clear voice. + +I could not have uttered a word to save my life. Speed, pacing the +room, turned to read my face; and I think he read it, for he stopped +short in his tracks. Jacqueline, watching him with blue, inscrutable +eyes, turned sharply toward the window and peered out into the +darkness. + +Beyond the wall of the garden the fog, made luminous by the torches of +the insurgents, surrounded the house with a circle of bright, ruddy +vapor. + +Speed came slowly across the room with me. + +"Do they mean to shoot us?" he asked, bluntly. + +"Messieurs," said the Countess, with a faint smile, "your whispers +are no compliment to my race. Pray honor me by plain speaking. Are we +to die?" + +We stood absolutely speechless before her. + +"Ah, Monsieur Scarlett," she said, gravely, "do you also fail me ... +at the end?... You, too--even you?... Must I tell you that we of +Trécourt fear nothing in this world?" + +She made a little gesture, exquisitely imperious. + +I stepped toward her; she waited for me to seat myself beside her. + +"Are we to die?" she asked. + +"Yes, madame." + +"Thank you," she said, softly. + +I looked up. My head was swimming so that I could scarcely see her, +scarcely perceive the deep, steady tenderness in her clear eyes. + +"Do you not understand?" she asked. "You are my friend. I wished to +know my fate from you." + +"Madame," I said, hoarsely, "how can you call me friend when you +know to what I have brought you?" + +"You have brought me to know myself," she said, simply. "Why should +I not be grateful? Why do you look at me so sadly, Monsieur Scarlett? +Truly, you must know that my life has been long enough to prove its +uselessness." + +"It is not true!" I cried, stung by remorse for all I had said. +"Such women as you are the hope of France! Such women as you are the +hope of the world! Ah, that you should consider the bitterness and +folly of such a man as I am--that you should consider and listen to +the sorry wisdom of a homeless mountebank--a wandering fool--a +preacher of empty platitudes, who has brought you to this with his +cursed meddling!" + +"You taught me truth," she said, calmly; "you make the last days of +my life the only ones worth living. I said to you but an hour +since--when I was angry--that we were unfitted to comprehend each +other. It is not true. We are fitted for that. I had rather die with +you than live without the friendship which I believe--which I know--is +mine. Monsieur Scarlett, it is not love. If it were, I could not say +this to you--even in death's presence. It is something better; +something untroubled, confident, serene.... You see it is not love.... +And perhaps it has no name.... For I have never before known such +happiness, such peace, as I know now, here with you, talking of our +death. If we could live,... you would go away.... I should be +alone.... And I have been alone all my life,... and I am tired. You +see I have nothing to regret in a death that brings me to you +again.... Do you regret life?" + +"Not now," I said. + +"You are kind to say so. I do believe--yes, I know that you truly +care for me.... Do you?" + +"Yes." + +"Then it will not be hard.... Perhaps not even very painful." + +The key turning in the door startled us. Buckhurst entered, and +through the hallway I saw his dishevelled soldiers running, flinging +open doors, tearing, trampling, pillaging, wrecking everything in +their path. + +"Your business will be attended to in the garden at dawn," he +observed, blinking about the room, for the bright lamp-light dazzled +him. + +Speed, who had been standing by the window with Jacqueline, wheeled +sharply, took a few steps into the room, then sank into a chair, +clasping his lank hands between his knees. + +The Countess did not even glance up as the sentence was pronounced; +she looked at me and laid her left hand on mine, smiling, as though +waiting for the moment to resume an interrupted conversation. + +"Do you hear?" demanded Buckhurst, raising his voice. + +There was no answer for a moment; then Jacqueline stepped from the +window and said: "Am I free to go?" + +"You!" said Buckhurst, contemptuously; "who in hell are you?" + +"I am Jacqueline." + +"Really," sneered Buckhurst. + +He went away, slamming and locking the door; and I heard Mornac +complaining that the signals had gone out on the semaphore and that +there was more treachery abroad. + +"Get me a horse!" said Buckhurst. "There are plenty of them in the +stables. Mornac, you stay here; I'll ride over to the semaphore. Gut +this house and fire it after you've finished that business in the +garden to-morrow morning." + +"Where are you going?" demanded Mornac's angry voice. "Do you expect +me to stay here while you start for Paris?" + +"You have your orders," said Buckhurst, menacingly. + +"Oh, have I? What are they? To stay here when the country is +roused--stay here and perhaps be shelled by that damned cruiser out +there--" + +His voice was stifled as though a hand had clutched his throat; there +came the swift sound of a struggle, the banging of scabbards and +spurs, the scuffle of heavy boots. + +"Are you mad?" burst out Mornac's strangled voice. + +"Are you?" breathed Buckhurst. "Silence, you fool. Do you obey +orders or not?" + +Their voices receded. Speed sprang to the door to listen, then ran +back to the window. + +"Scarlett," he whispered, "there are the lights of a vessel at +anchor off Groix." + +I was beside him in an instant. "It's the cruiser," I said. "Oh, +Speed, for a chance to signal!" + +We looked at each other desperately. + +"We could set the room afire," he said; "they might land to see what +had happened." + +"And find us all shot." + +Jacqueline, standing beside Speed, said, quietly: "I could swim it. +Wait. Raise the window a little." + +"You cannot dive from that cliff!" I said. + +She cautiously unlocked the window and peered out into the dark +garden. + +"The cliff falls sheer from the wall yonder," she whispered. "I +shall try to drop. I learned much in the circus. I am not afraid, +Speed. I shall drop into the sea." + +"To your death," I said. + +"Possibly, m'sieu. It is a good death, however. I am not afraid." + +"Close the window," muttered Speed. "They'd shoot her from the wall, +anyway." + +Again the child gravely asked permission to try. + +"No," said Speed, harshly, and turned away. But in that instant +Jacqueline flung open the window and vaulted into the garden. Before I +could realize what had happened she was only a glimmering spot in the +darkness. Then Speed and I followed her, running swiftly toward the +foot of the garden, but we were too late; a slim, white shape rose +from the top of the wall and leaped blindly out through the ruddy +torch glare into the blackness beyond. + +We heard a soldier's startled cry, a commotion, curses, and astonished +exclamations from the other side of the wall. + +"It was something, I tell you!" roared a soldier. "Something that +jumped over the cliff!" + +"It was an owl, idiot!" retorted his comrade. + +"I tell you I saw it!" protested the other, in a shaking voice. + +"Then you saw a witch of Ker-Ys," bawled another. "Look out for your +skin in the first battle. It's death to see such things." + +I looked at Speed. He stood wide-eyed, staring at vacancy. + +"Could she do it?" I asked, horrified. + +"God knows," he whispered. + +Soldiers were beginning to clamber up the garden wall from the +outside; torches were raised to investigate. As we shrank back +into the shadow of the shrubbery I stumbled over something +soft--Jacqueline's clothes, lying in a circle as she had stepped out +of them. + +Speed took them. I followed him, creeping back to the window, where we +entered in time to avoid discovery by a wretch who had succeeded in +mounting the wall, torch in hand. + +One or two soldiers climbed over and dropped into the garden, prowling +around, prodding the bushes with their bayonets, even coming to press +their dirty faces and hands against our window. + +"They're all here!" sang out one. "It was an owl, I tell you!" And +he menaced us with his rifle in pantomime and retired, calling his +companions to follow. + +"Where is Jacqueline?" asked the Countess, looking anxiously at the +little blue skirt on Speed's knees. "Have they harmed that child?" + +I told her. + +A beautiful light grew in her eyes as she listened. "Did I not warn +you that we Bretons know how to die?" she said. + +I looked dully at Speed, who sat by the window, brooding over the +little woollen skirt on his knees, stroking it, touching the torn hem, +and at last folding it with unaccustomed and shaky hands. + +There were noises outside our door, loud voices, hammering, the sound +of furniture being dragged over stone floors, and I scarcely noticed +it when our door was opened again. + +Then somebody called out our names; a file of half-drunken soldiers +grounded arms in the passageway with a bang that brought us to our +feet, as Mornac, flushed with wine, entered unsteadily, drawn sword in +hand. + +"I'm damned if I stay here any longer," he broke out, angrily. "I'll +see whether my rascals can't shoot straight by torch-light. Here, you! +Scarlett, I mean! And you, Speed; and you, too, madame; patter your +prayers, for you'll get no priest. Lieutenant, withdraw the guard at +the wall. Here, captain, march the battalion back to Paradise and take +the servants!" + +A second later the drums began to beat, but Mornac, furious, silenced +them. + +"They can hear you at sea!" he shouted. "Do you want a boat-load of +marines at your heels? Strike out those torches! Four will do for the +garden. March!" + +The shuffling tread of the insurgent infantry echoed across the gravel +court-yard; torches behind the walls were extinguished; blackness +enveloped the cliffs. + +"Well," broke out Speed, hoarsely, "good-bye, Scarlett." + +He held out his hand. + +"Good-bye," I said, stunned. + +I dropped my hand as two soldiers placed themselves on either side of +him. + +"Well, good-bye," he repeated, aimlessly; and then, remembering, he +went to the Countess and offered his hand. + +"I am so sorry for you," she said, with a pallid smile. "You have +much to live for. But you must not feel lonely, monsieur; you will be +with us--we shall be close to you." + +She turned to me, and her hands fell to her side. + +"Are you contented?" she asked. + +"Yes," I answered. + +"I, too," she said, sweetly, and offered her hands. + +I held them very tightly. "You say," I whispered, "that it is +not--love. But you do not speak for me. I love you." + +A bright blush spread over brow and neck. + +"So--it was love--after all," she said, under her breath. "God be +with us to-day--I love you." + +"March!" cried Mornac, as two soldiers took station beside me. + +"I beg you will be gentle with this lady," I said, angrily, as two +more soldiers pushed up beside the young Countess and laid their hands +on her shoulders. + +"Who the devil are you giving orders to?" shouted Mornac, savagely. +"March!" + +Speed passed out first; I followed; the Countess came behind me. + +"Courage," I stammered, looking back at her as we stumbled out into +the torch-lit garden. + +She smiled adorably. Her forefathers had mounted the guillotine +smiling. + +Mornac pointed to the garden wall near the bench where we had sat +together. A soldier dressed like a Turco lifted a torch and set it in +the flower-bed under the wall, illuminating the spot where we were to +stand. As this soldier turned to come back I saw his face. + +"Salah Ben-Ahmed!" I cried, hoarsely. "Do Marabouts do this +butcher's work?" + +The Turco stared at me as though stunned. + +"Salah Ben-Ahmed is a disgraced soldier!" I said, in a ringing +voice. + +"It's a lie!" he shouted, in Arabic--"it's a lie, O my inspector! +Speak! Have these men tricked me? Are you not Prussians?" + +"Silence! Silence!" bawled Mornac. "Turco, fall in! Fall in, I say! +What! You menace me?" he snarled, cocking his revolver. + +Then a man darted out of the red shadows of the torch-light and fell +upon Mornac with a knife, and dragged him down and rolled on him, +stabbing him through and through, while the mutilated wretch screamed +and screamed until his soul struggled out through the flame-shot +darkness and fled to its last dreadful abode. + +The Lizard rose, shaking his fagot knife; they fell upon him, clubbing +and stabbing with stock and bayonet, but he swung his smeared and +sticky blade, clearing a circle around him. And I think he could have +cut his way free had not Tric-Trac shot him in the back of the head. + +Then a frightful tumult broke loose. Three of the torches were knocked +to the ground and trampled out as the insurgents, doubly drunken with +wine and the taste of blood, seized me and tried to force me against +the wall; but the Turco, with his shrill, wolf-like battle yelp, +attacked them, sabre-bayonet in hand. Speed, too, had wrested a rifle +from a half-stupefied ruffian, and now stood at bay before the +Countess; I saw him wielding his heavy weapon like a flail; then in +the darkness Tric-Trac shot at me, so close that the powder-flame +scorched my leg. He dropped his rifle to spring for my throat, +knocking me flat, and, crouching on me, strove to strangle me; and I +heard him whining with eagerness while I twisted and writhed to free +my windpipe from his thin fingers. + +At last I tore him from my body and struggled to my feet. He, too, was +on his legs with a bound, running, doubling, dodging; and at his heels +I saw a dozen sailors, broadaxes glittering, chasing him from tree to +shrub. + +"Speed!" I shouted--"the sailors from the _Fer-de-Lance_!" + +The curtains of the house were on fire; through the hallway poured the +insurgent soldiery, stampeding in frantic flight across the court out +into the moors; and the marines, swarming along the cliffs, shot at +them as they ran, and laughed savagely when a man fell into the gorse, +kicking like a wounded rabbit. + +Speed marked their flight, advancing coolly, pistol flashing; the +Turco, Ben-Ahmed, dark arms naked to the shoulder, bounded behind the +frightened wretches, cornering, hunting them through flower-beds and +bushes, stealthily, keenly, now creeping among the shadows, now +springing like a panther on his prey, until his blue jacket reeked and +his elbows dripped. + +I had picked up a rifle with a broken bayonet; the Countess, clasping +my left arm, stood swaying in the rifle-smoke, eyes closed; and, when +a horrid screeching arose from the depths of the garden where they +were destroying Tric-Trac, she fell to shuddering, hiding her face on +my shoulder. + +Suddenly Speed appeared, carrying a drenched little figure, partly +wrapped in a sailor's pea-jacket, slim limbs drooping, blue with +cold. + +"Put out that fire in there," he said, hoarsely; "we must get her +into bed. Hurry, for God's sake, Scarlett! There's nobody in the +house!" + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline! brave little Bretonne," murmured the +Countess, bending forward and gathering the unconscious child into her +strong, young arms. + +Through the dim dawn, through smoke and fading torch-light, we carried +Jacqueline into the house, now lighted up with an infernal red from +the burning dining-room. + +"The house is stone; we can keep the flames to one room if we work +hard," I said. A sailor stood by the door wiping the stained blade of +his broadaxe, and I called on him to aid us. + +A fresh company of sailors passed on the double, rifles trailing, +their officer shouting encouragement, And as we came in view of the +semaphore, I saw the signal tower on fire from base to top. + +The gray moorland was all flickering with flashes where the bulk of +the insurgent infantry began firing in retreat; the marines' fusillade +broke out from Paradise village; rifle after rifle cracked along the +river-bank. Suddenly the deep report of a cannon came echoing landward +from the sea; a shell, with lighted fuse trailing sparks, flew over us +with a rushing whistle and exploded on the moors. + +All this I saw from the house where I stood with Speed and a sailor, +buried in smoke, chopping out blazing woodwork, tearing the burning +curtains from the windows. The marines fired steadily from the windows +above us. + +"They want the Red Terror!" laughed the sailors. "They shall have +it!" + +"Hunt them out! Hunt them out!" cried an officer, briskly. "Fire!" +rang out a voice, and the volley broke crashing, followed by the +clear, penetrating boatswain's whistle sounding the assault. + +Blackened, scorched, almost suffocated, I staggered back to the +tea-room, where the Countess stood clasping Jacqueline, huddled in a +blanket, and smoothing the child's wet curls away from a face as white +as death. + +Together we carried her back through the smoking hallway, up the +stairs to my bedroom, and laid her in the bed. + +The child opened her eyes as we drew the blankets. + +"Where is Speed?" she asked, dreamily. + +A moment later he came in, and she turned her head languidly and +smiled. + +"Jacqueline! Jacqueline!" he whispered, bending close above her. + +"Do you love me, Speed?" + +"Ah, Jacqueline," he stammered, "more than you can understand." + +Suddenly a step sounded on the stairs, a rifle-stock grounded, +clanging, and a sonorous voice rang out: + +"Salute, O my brother of the toug! The enemies of France are dead!" + +And in the silence around him Salah Ben-Ahmed the Marabout recited the +fatha, bearing witness to the eternal unity of God. + + * * * * * + +Late that night the light cavalry from Lorient rode into Paradise. At +dawn the colonel, established in the mayory, from whence its foolish +occupant had fled, sent for Speed and me, and when we reported he drew +from his heavy dolman our commissions, restoring us to rank and pay in +the regiment _de marche_ which he commanded. + +At sunrise I had bade good-bye to the sweetest woman on earth; at noon +we were miles to the westward, riding like demons on Buckhurst's heavy +trail. + +I am not sure that we ever saw him again, though once, weeks later, +Speed and I and a dozen hussars gave chase to a mounted man near St. +Brieuc, and that man might have been Buckhurst. He led us a +magnificent chase straight to the coast, where we rode plump into a +covey of Prussian hussars, who were standing on their saddles, hacking +away at the telegraph-wires with their heavy, curved sabres. + +That was our first and last sight of the enemy in either Prussian or +communistic guise, though in the long, terrible days and nights of +that winter of '71, when three French armies froze, and the white +death, not the Prussians, ended all for France, rumors of insurrection +came to us from the starving capital, and we heard of the red flag +flying on the Hôtel-de-Ville, and the rising of the carbineers under +Flourens; and some spoke of the leader of the insurrection and called +him John Buckhurst. + +That Buckhurst could have penetrated Paris neither Speed nor I +believed; but, as all now know, we were wrong, though the testimony +concerning his death[A] at the hands of his terrible colleague, +Mortier, was not in evidence until a young ruffian, known as "The +Mouse," confessed before he expiated his crimes on Sartory Plain in +1872. + +Thus, for three blank, bitter months, freezing and starving, the 1st +Regiment _de marche_ of Lorient Hussars stood guard at Brest over the +diamonds of the crown of France. + +----- + +[A] This affair is dealt with in _Ashes of Empire_. + + + + +XXII + +THE SECRET + + +The news of the collapse of the army of the East found our wretchedly +clothed and half-starved hussars still patrolling the environs of +Brest from Belair to the Pont Tournant, and from the banks of the +Elorn clear around the ramparts to Lannion Bay, where the ice-sheathed +iron-clads lay with banked fires off the Port Militaire, and the +goulet guard-boats patrolled the Port de Commerce from the Passe de +l'Ouest to the hook on the Digue and clear around to Cap Espagnol. + +All Brest, from the battlements of the Château of St. Martin, in +Belair, was on watch, so wrought up was the governor over the attempt +on the treasure-train. For three months our troopers scarcely left +their saddles, except to be taken to the hospital in Recouvrance. + +The rigor of the constant alert wore us to shadows; rockets from the +goulet, the tocsin, the warning boom of a gun from the castle, found +us spurring our jaded horses through ice and snow to scour the +landward banlieue and purge it of a dreaded revolt. The names of Marx, +of Flourens, of Buckhurst, were constantly repeated; news of troubles +at Bordeaux, rumors of the red flag at Marseilles, only served to +increase the rigid system of patrol, which brought death to those in +the trenches as well as to our sleet-soaked videttes. + +Suddenly the nightmare ended with a telegram. Paris had surrendered. + +Immediately the craze to go beset us all; our improvised squadrons +became clamoring mobs of peasants, wild to go home. Deserters left us +every night; they shot some in full flight; some were shot after +drum-head séances in which Speed and I voted in vain for acquittal. +But affairs grew worse; our men neglected their horses; bands of +fugitives robbed the suburbs, roving about, pillaging, murdering, even +burning the wretched hovels where nothing save the four walls remained +even for the miserable inmates. + +Our hussars were sent on patrol again, but they deserted with horses +and arms in scores, until, when we rode into the Rue du Bois d'Amour, +scarce a squadron clattered into the smoky gateway, and the infantry +of the line across the street jeered and cursed us from their +barracks. + +On the last day of February our regiment was disbanded, and the +officers ordered to hold themselves in readiness to recruit the débris +of a dragoon regiment, one squadron of which at once took possession +of our miserable barracks. + +On the first day of March, by papers from London, we learned that the +war was at an end, and that the preliminary treaty of Sunday, the +26th, had been signed at Versailles. + +The same mail brought to me an astonishing offer from Cairo, to assist +in the reorganization and accept a commission in the Egyptian military +police. Speed and I, shivering in our ragged uniforms by the barrack +stove, discussed the matter over a loaf of bread and a few sardines, +until we fell asleep in our greasy chairs and dreamed of hot sunshine, +and of palms, and of a crimson sunset against which a colossal basking +monster, half woman, half lion, crouched, wallowing to her stone +breasts in a hot sea of sand. + +When I awoke in the black morning hours I knew that I should go. All +the roaming instinct in me was roused. I, a nomad, had stayed too long +in one stale place; I must be moving on. A feverish longing seized me; +inertia became unbearable; the restless sea called me louder and +louder, thundering on the breakwater; the gulls, wheeling above the +arsenal at dawn, screamed a challenge. + +Leave of absence, and permission to travel pending acceptance of my +resignation, I asked for and obtained before the stable trumpets awoke +my comrade from his heavy slumber by the barrack stove. + +I made my packet--not much--a few threadbare garments folded around +her letters, one to mark each miserable day that had passed since I +spurred my horse out of Trécourt on the track of the wickedest man I +ever knew. + +Speed awoke with the trumpets, and stared at me where I knelt before +the stove in my civilian clothes, strapping up my little packet. + +"Oh," he said, briefly, "I knew you were going." + +"So did I," I replied. "Will you ride to Trécourt with me? I have +two weeks' permission for you." + +He had no clothing but the uniform he wore, and no baggage except a +razor, a shirt, a tooth-brush, and a bundle of letters, all written on +Madame de Vassart's crested paper, but not signed by her. + +We bolted our breakfast of soup and black bread, and bawled for our +horses, almost crazed with impatience, now that the moment had come at +last. + +"Good-bye!" shouted the shivering dragoon officers, wistfully, as we +wheeled our horses and spurred, clattering, towards the black gates. +"Good-bye and good luck! We drink to those you love, comrades!" + +"And they shall drink to you! Good-bye! Good-bye!" we cried, till the +salt sea-wind tore the words from our teeth and bowed our heads as we +galloped through the suburbs and out into the icy high-road, where, +above us, the telegraph-wires sang their whirring dirge, and the wind +in the gorse whistled, and the distant forest sounded and resounded +with the gale's wailing. + +On, on, hammering the flinty road with steel-shod hoofs, racing with +the racing clouds, thundering across the pontoon, where benumbed +soldiers huddled to stare, then bounding forward through the narrow +lanes of hamlets, where pinched faces peered out at us from hovels, +and gaunt dogs fled from us into the frozen hedge. + +Far ahead we caught sight of the smoke of a locomotive. + +"Landerneau!" gasped Speed. "Ride hard, Scarlett!" + +The station-master saw us and halted the moving train at a frantic +signal from Speed, whose uniform was to be reckoned with by all +station-masters, and ten minutes later we stood swaying in a +cattle-car, huddled close to our horses to keep warm, while the +locomotive tore eastward, whistling frantically, and an ocean of black +smoke poured past, swarming with sparks. Crossing the Aune trestle +with a ripping roar, the train rushed through Châteaulin, south, then +east, then south. + +Toward noon, Speed, clinging to the stall-bars, called out to me that +he could see Quimper, and in a few moments we rolled into the station, +dropped two cars, and steamed out again into the beautiful Breton +country, where the winter wheat was green as new grass and the gorse +glimmered, and the clear streams rushed seaward between their thickets +of golden willows and green briers, already flushing with the promise +of new buds. + +Rosporden we passed at full speed; scarcely a patch of melting snow +remained at Bannalec; and when we steamed slowly into Quimperlé, the +Laïta ran crystal-clear as a summer stream, and I saw the faint blue +of violets on the southern slope of the beech-woods. + +Some gendarmes aided us to disembark our horses, and a sub-officer +respectfully offered us hospitality at the barracks across the square; +but we were in our saddles the moment our horses' hoofs struck the +pavement, galloping for Paradise, with a sweet, keen wind blowing, +hinting already of the sea. + +This was that same road which led me into Paradise on that autumn day +which seemed years and years ago. The forests were leafless but +beautiful; the blackthorns already promised their scented snow to +follow the last melting drift which still glimmered among the trees in +deep woodland gullies. A violet here and there looked up at us with +blue eyes; in sheltered spots, fresh, reddish sprouts pricked the +moist earth, here a whorl of delicate green, there a tender spike, +guarding some imprisoned loveliness; buds on the beeches were +brightening under a new varnish; naked thickets, no longer dead gray, +softened into harmonies of pink and gold and palest purple. + +Once, halting at a bridge, above the quick music of the stream we +heard an English robin singing all alone. + +"I never longed for spring as I do now," broke out Speed. "The +horror of this black winter has scarred me forever--the deathly +whiteness, month after month; the freezing filth of that ghastly city; +the sea, all slime and ice!" + +"Gallop," I said, shuddering. "I can smell the moors of Paradise +already. The winds will cleanse us." + +We spoke no more; and at last the road turned to the east, down among +the trees, and we were traversing the square of Paradise village, +where white-capped women turned to look after us, and children stared +at us from their playground around the fountain, and the sleek magpies +fluttered out of our path as we galloped over the bridge and breasted +the sweet, strong moor wind, spicy with bay and gorse. + +Speed flung out his arm, pointing. "The circus camp was there," he +said. "They have ploughed the clover under." + +A moment later I saw the tower of Trécourt, touched with a ray of +sunshine, and the sea beyond, glittering under a clearing sky. + +As we dismounted in the court-yard the sun flashed out from the +fringes of a huge, snowy cloud. + +"There is Jacqueline!" cried Speed, tossing his bridle to me in his +excitement, and left me planted there until a servant came from the +stable. + +Then I followed, every nerve quivering, almost dreading to set foot +within, lest happiness awake me and I find myself in the freezing +barracks once more, my brief dream ended. + +In the hallway a curious blindness came over me. I heard Jacqueline +call my name, and I felt her hands in mine, but scarcely saw her; then +she slipped away from me, and I found myself seated in the little +tea-room, listening to the dull, double beat of my own heart, +trembling at distant sounds in the house--waiting, endlessly waiting. + +After a while a glimmer of common-sense returned to me. I squared my +shoulders and breathed deeply, then rose and walked to the window. + +The twigs on the peach-trees had turned wine-color; around the roots +of the larkspurs delicate little palmated leaves clustered; crocus +spikes pricked the grass everywhere, and the tall, polished shoots of +the peonies glistened, glowing crimson in the sun. A heavy cat sunned +its sleek flanks on the wall, brilliant eyes half closed, tail tucked +under. Ange Pitou had grown very fat in three months. + +A step at the door, and I wheeled, trembling. But it was only a Breton +maid, who bore some letters on a salver of silver. + +"For me?" I asked. + +"If you please," she said, demurely. + +Two letters, and I knew the writing on one. The first I read +standing: + + "Buffalo, N. Y., Feb. 3, 1871. + + "Mr. Scarlett, Dear Sir and Friend,--Trusting you're + well I am pleased to admit the same, the blind Goddess + having smiled on me and the circus since we quit that + damn terra firma for a more peeceful climb. + + "We are enjoying winter quarters near to the majestic + phenomena of Niagara, fodder is cheap and vittles + bountiful. + + "Would be pleased to have you entertain idees of + joining us, and the same to Mr. Speed--you can take the + horses. I have a lion man from Jersey City. We open in + Charleston S. C. next week no more of La continong for + me, _savvy voo_! home is good enough for me. That + little Jacqueline left me I got a girl and am training + her but she ain't Jacqueline. Annimals are well Mrs. + Grigg sends her love and is joined by all especially + the ladies and others too numerous to mention. Hoping + to hear from you soon about the horses I remain yours + truly and courteously, + + "H. Byram Esq." + +The second letter I opened carelessly, smiling a little: + + "New York, Feb. 1, 1871. + + "Dear Mr. Scarlett,--We were married yesterday. We have + life before us, but are not afraid. I shall never + forget you; my wife can never forget the woman you + love. We have both passed through hell--but _we have + passed through alive_. And we pray for the happiness of + you and yours. + + "Kelly Eyre." + +Sobered, I laid this letter beside the first, turned thoughtfully away +into the room, then stood stock-still. + +The Countess de Vassart stood in the doorway, a smile trembling on her +lips. In her gray eyes I read hope; and I took her hands in mine. She +stood silent with bent head, exquisite in her silent shyness; and I +told her I loved her, and that I asked for her love; that I had found +employment in Egypt, and that it was sufficient to justify my asking +her to wed me. + +"As for my name," I said, "you know that is not the name I bear; +yet, knowing that, you have given me your love. You read my dossier in +Paris; you know _why_ I am alone, without kin, without a family, +without a home. Yet you believe that I am not tainted with dishonor. +And I am not. Listen, this is what happened; this is why I gave up +all; and ... this is my name!" ... + +And I bent my head and whispered the truth for the first time in my +life to any living creature. + +When I had ended I stood still, waiting, head still bowed beside +hers. + +She laid her hand on my hot face and slowly drew it close beside +hers. + +"What shall I promise you?" she whispered. + +"Yourself, Éline." + +"Take me.... Is that all?" + +"Your love." + +She turned in my arms and clasped her hands behind my head, pressing +her mouth to mine. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MAIDS OF PARADISE*** + + +******* This file should be named 28295-8.txt or 28295-8.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/2/9/28295 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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