diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40696-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40696-0.txt | 11440 |
1 files changed, 11440 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/40696-0.txt b/40696-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a94ce35 --- /dev/null +++ b/40696-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11440 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40696 *** + +[Illustration: "Who goes there!"] + + + + + WHO GOES THERE! + + BY + ROBERT W. CHAMBERS + + + [Illustration] + + + WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY + A. I. KELLER + + + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + NEW YORK AND LONDON + 1915 + + + + + COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY + ROBERT W. CHAMBERS + + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + + _To_ + _J. HAMBLEN SEARS_ + + + _Joseph! I've known you now for many years; + You are the Hero of this pretty story; + In him your every virtue reappears + Lighting his way along the road to glory. + + All you possess adorns this Hero gay, + Your fatal beauty, curly hair, and so forth; + Like you he's always ready, night or day, + To pack his doggy clothes and ties and go forth. + + No winsome maid beneath a summer sky, + Innured to prudence, modesty, and duty + Would dare demur or hesitate to fly + With such a manly specimen of beauty. + + Accept, my friend, this tribute to your worth + As publisher, explorer, lover, fighter, + For men like you were destined from their birth + To make a millionaire of any writer._ + + _R. W. C._ + + + + + _WHO GOES THERE!_ + + + _Not with indifferent or with flippant hand + Draw the curtain's corner to disclose + A rose, a leaf, a path through this sad land + Untrampled yet by foes. + + Out of the Past--the Heart's last Hermitage-- + A wistful Phantom glides to me again + Here where I pace that solitary cage + They call, The World of Men. + In vain she mirrors me the Golden Age; + Vain is her Voice of Spring in wood and glen; + The winter sunlight falls across my page + Gilding a broken pen. + + Withered the magic gardens which were mine; + Eden, in embers, blackens in the sun; + Rooting amid crushed roses the Wild Swine + Still root, and spare not one. + + Village and spire and scented forest path, + Pastures and brooks, meadows and hills and fens + Heard not the secret whispering in Gath + There where the Gray Boar dens, + Till burst his dreadful clamour on the Rhine + And all the World shrank deafened by the roar + Aghast before the out-rush of Wild Swine + Led by the great Gray Boar._ + + _Fallen the cloud-capped castles which were mine; + Cities in ashes whiten in the sun; + Rending the ruined shrines, the Rhenish Swine + Still rend, and spare not one._ + + + + + PREFACE + + +The Crown Prince is partly right; the majority in the world is against +him and what he stands for; but not against Germany and the Germans. + +He professes surprise at the attitude of the United States. That +attitude is the natural result of various causes among which are the +following: + +Distrust of any aggressor by a nation inclined toward peace. + +Disgust at the "scrap of paper" episode. + +Resentment at the invasion of Belgium. + +Contempt for the Imperial Government which is industriously screwing the +last penny of "indemnity" out of a ruined nation, which the people of +the United States are taxing their private means to keep from +starvation. + +Further back there are other reasons. + +For thirty years the press of Germany has seldom missed an opportunity +to express its contempt for Americans. Any American who has ever lived +in Germany or who has read German newspapers during the last thirty +years is aware of the tone of the German press concerning America and +Americans. No innuendoes have been too vulgar, no sneers too brutal for +the editors of these papers, and, presumably for the readers. + +Also Americans do not forget the attitude of the Imperial Government +during the Spanish war. The bad manners of a German Admiral are bearing +fruit. + +Imperialism we Americans do not understand, but it need not make us +unfriendly to empires. + +But we do understand when manners are bad, or when a military caste, +which maintains its traditions of personal honour by violence, becomes +arrogant to the point of brutality. + +A false notion of personal honour is alone enough to prevent a +sympathetic understanding between two peoples. + +America is not an enemy to Germany, only is it inexorably opposed to any +Government which breaks faith; and which enthrones above all other gods +the god of violence. + +For the German soldiers who are dying in this Hohenzollern-Hapsburg war +we have only sympathy and pity. We know they are as brave as any +soldiers; that cruelty in the German Army is in no greater proportion +than it is in any army. + +But also we know that the cause of Imperial Germany is wrong; her +civilization is founded on propositions impossible for any American to +accept; her aims, ambitions, and ideals antagonistic to the progress to +communal and individual liberty as we understand the terms. And that +settles the matter for us. + + + + + CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. IN THE MIST 1 + + II. THE MAN IN GREY 9 + + III. TIPPERARY 26 + + IV. BAD DREAMS 37 + + V. KAREN 46 + + VI. MR. AND MRS 62 + + VII. THE SATCHEL 83 + + VIII. AT SEA 91 + + IX. H. M. S. WYVERN 106 + + X. FORCE 115 + + XI. STRATEGY 136 + + XII. IN THE RAIN 150 + + XIII. THE DAY OF WRATH 170 + + XIV. HER ENEMY 174 + + XV. IN CONFIDENCE 176 + + XVI. THE FOREST LISTENS 196 + + XVII. HER FIRST CAMPAIGN 217 + + XVIII. LESSE FOREST 226 + + XIX. THE LIAR 248 + + XX. BEFORE DINNER 257 + + XXI. SNIPERS 271 + + XXII. DRIVEN GAME 288 + + XXIII. CANDLE LIGHT 299 + + XXIV. A PERSONAL AFFAIR 315 + + XXV. WHO GOES THERE! 326 + + XXVI. AMICUS DEI 338 + + + + + LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS + + + FACING + PAGE + + "Who goes there!" _Frontispiece_ + + "'If you'll say you'll do it, ... I'll not have those + men shot'" 20 + + "There came a light, soft touch on his ring-finger" 52 + + "The chauffeur hit him ... two heavy, merciless + blows, hurling him senseless across the stairs" 68 + + "'Kervyn! Kervyn--Think what you are doing!--'" 120 + + "Standing so beside the pool, breathing the incense of + the roses, she thought of the dream" 276 + + "The Pulpit resounded with the rifle-fire of its little + garrison" 296 + + "The impact hurled von Reiter against the table" 318 + + "And last of all came Karen with Guild on foot beside + her" 336 + + + + + WHO GOES THERE! + + + + + CHAPTER I + + IN THE MIST + + +They had selected for their business the outer face of an old garden +wall. There were red tiles on the coping; dusty roadside vines half +covered the base. Where plaster had peeled off a few weather-beaten +bricks showed. Bees hummed in the trampled herbage. + +Against this wall they backed the first six men. One, a mere boy, was +crying, wiping his frightened eyes on his shirt-sleeve. + +The dry crash of the volley ended the matter; all the men against the +wall collapsed. Presently one of them, the boy who had been crying, +moved his arm in the grass. A rifle spoke instantly, and he moved no +more. + +There came a low-spoken word of command, the firing squad shouldered +rifles, wheeled, and moved off; and out of the sea-grey masses of +infantry another squad of execution came marching up, smartly. + +A dozen men, some in sabots, trousers, and dirty collarless shirts, some +in well-cut business suits and straw hats, and all with their wrists +tied behind them, stood silently awaiting their turns. One among them, a +young man wearing a golf-cap, knickerbockers, heather-spats, and an +absolutely colourless face, stood staring at the tumbled heaps of +clothing along the foot of the wall as though stupified. + +Six peasants went first; the men more smartly attired were to wait a +little longer it appeared. + +The emotionless and methodical preparations, the brisk precision of the +operation, the cheerful celerity of the firing squad made it the more +terrifying, stunning the victims to immobility. + +The young man in the golf-cap and knickerbockers clenched his tied +hands. Not an atom of colour remained in cheeks or lips, and he stood +with face averted while the squad of execution was busy with its +business. + +There seemed to be some slight disorder along the wall--a defiant voice +was raised hoarsely cursing all Germans; another, thin and hysterical, +cheered for Belgium and the young King. Also this firing squad must have +aimed badly, for bayonet and rifle-butt were used afterward and some +delay occurred; and an officer, revolver swinging, prowled along the +foot of the wall, kicking inquiringly at the dead heaps of heavy flesh +that had collapsed there. + +Houses lining the single village street began to leak smoke; smoke +writhed and curled behind closed window-panes. Here and there a mounted +Uhlan forced his big horse up on the sidewalk and drove his lance butt +through the window glass. + +Already the street was swimming in thin strata of smoke; the sea-grey +uniforms of the German infantry seemed part of the haze; only the faces +of the soldiery were visible--faces without bodies, thousands of flat, +detached faces, thousands of little pig eyes set in a blank and foggy +void. And over everything in the close, heavy air brooded the sour +stench of a sweat-soaked, unwashed army. + +A third squad of execution came swinging up, apparently out of nowhere, +their heavy half-boots clumping in unison on the stony street. + +The young man in the golf-cap and knickerbockers heard them coming and +bit his bloodless lip. + +After a moment the rhythm of the heavy boots ceased. The street became +very silent, save where window glass continually fell tinkling to the +sidewalk and the feathery whisper of flames became more audible from +within the row of empty houses. + +The young man lifted his eyes to the sombre and sunless sky. High up +there above the mist and heavy bands of smoke he saw the feathery tops +of tall trees, motionless. + +Presently through the silence came the clatter of hoofs; Uhlans cantered +past, pennons whipping from lance heads; then a soft two-toned +bugle-call announced an automobile; and presently it loomed up, huge, +through the parted ranks of the infantry, a great grey, low-purring +bulk, slowing, halting, still purring. + +A grey-clad general officer sat in the tonneau, a grey-uniformed hussar +was seated beside the grey-liveried chauffeur. + +As the car stopped several officers were already beside the +running-board, halted stiffly at attention. The general officer, his +cigar between his gloved fingers, leaned over the edge of the tonneau +and said something in a very quiet voice. + +Instantly a slim, stiff infantry captain saluted, wheeled sharply, and +walked straight to the little file of prisoners who stood with their +wrists tied behind their backs, looking vacantly at the automobile. + +"Which is the prisoner-hostage who says he is American?" he snapped out +in his nasal Prussian voice. + +The young man who wore a golf-cap took a short step forward, hesitated. + +"You?" + +"Yes." + +"Fall in again!" + +The officer nodded to a sergeant of infantry, and a squad of men shoved +the prisoners into single file, facing not the fatal wall, but westward, +along the street. + +"March!" said somebody. And the next moment again: "Halt!" rang out with +the snapping brevity of a cracked whip. The general officer leaned from +the grey tonneau and looked steadily along the file of hostages until +his glance fell upon the young man in the golf-cap. + +"What is your name?" he asked quietly in English. + +"My name is Guild." + +"The rest?" + +"Kervyn Guild." + +"You say you are American?" + +"Yes." + +The general officer looked at him for a moment longer, then said +something to the hussar aide-de-camp. + +The aide threw open the car door and jumped out. A lieutenant took +command of the escort. The hussar whispered instructions, turned and +came to attention beside the running-board, then, at a nod from the +general officer, jumped up beside the chauffeur. There came the +soft-toned, mellow warning of the bugle; the grey machine glided off +into the mist; the prisoners and escort followed it, marching briskly. + +As they passed the end of the street two houses on their right suddenly +roared up in one vast, smoke-shot tower of flame, and a brassy glare +lighted up the mist around them. + +Somewhere near by a woman began to scream; farther down the street, more +windows and doors were being beaten in. From farther away, still, came +the strains of military music, resonant, full, magnificent. A detail +passed with spades to bury the dead who lay under the wall. All was +order, precision, and cheerful despatch. The infantry column, along the +halted flanks of which the prisoners were now being marched, came to +attention. Company after company marked time, heavily; shouldered +rifles. Uhlans in file came spurring through the centre of the street; a +cyclist followed, rifle slung across his back, sitting at ease on his +machine and gazing curiously about. + +Out of the end of the village street marched the prisoners and their +escort, but presently halted again. + +Directly in front of them stood the grey automobile drawn up by the +roadside before a pair of iron gates. The gates swung from high stucco +walls. On top of the walls were soldiers sitting, rifle on knee; a +machine gun commanded the drive, and across the gravel more soldiers +were digging a trench, setting posts, and stringing barbed wire which +they unwound from great wooden reels. + +Through the gates escort and prisoners threaded their way, across a lawn +already trampled by cavalry, and straight on toward a pleasant looking +and somewhat old-fashioned house set amid older trees and shrubbery, +badly broken. + +Half a dozen grey-clad staff officers were eating and drinking on the +low stone terrace; their horses picketed on the lawn, nibbled the +crushed shrubbery. Sentries pacing the terrace and on guard at the door +came to attention as the lieutenant in charge of the escort marched his +prisoners in. + +At a word from him an infantryman went from prisoner to prisoner untying +the cords that bound their wrists behind them. Then they were marched +into an old-fashioned drawing-room on the left, sentries were placed, +the remainder of the escort sat down on the floor with their loaded +rifles on their laps and their backs against the wall. Their officer, +the lieutenant, walked across the hallway to the room on the left, where +the sentry admitted him, then closed the door and resumed his heavy +pacing of the black-tiled hall. + +The sergeant in charge of the escort lifted his helmet with its +grey-cloth covering, scratched his bullet head, yawned. Then he said, +jerking a huge thumb toward the drawing-room: "There's a good wall in +the garden behind the house. They'll make the fruit grow all the +better--these Belgians." + +The lieutenant, coming out of the room opposite, overheard him. + +"What your crops need," he said in a mincing Berlin voice, "is plenty of +good English filth to spade under. See that you bring in a few +cart-loads." + +And he went into the drawing-room where the prisoners stood by the +windows looking out silently at a great pall of smoke which was hanging +over the village through which they had just been marched. + +"Which of you is the alleged American?" said the lieutenant in +hesitating but correct English. + +The young man in knickerbockers rose from a brocaded armchair. + +"Follow me. General von Reiter does you the honour to question you." + +The young man looked the lieutenant straight in the eye and smiled, +stiffly perhaps, because his face was still pallid and the breath of +death still chilled it. + +"The honour," he said in an agreeably modulated voice, "is General von +Reiter's. But I fear he won't realize it." + +"What's that!" said the lieutenant sharply. + +But young Guild shrugged his shoulders. "You wouldn't understand either. +Besides you are too talkative for an underling. Do your duty--if you +know how." + +"Swine of a Yankee," said the lieutenant, speaking slowly and with +painful precision, "do you suppose you are in your own sty of a +Republic? Silence! A Prussian officer commands you! March!" + +Guild dropped his hands into the pockets of his belted jacket. "You +little shrimp," he said good humouredly, and followed the officer, who +had now drawn his sword. + +Out into the hall they filed, across it to the closed door. The sentry +on duty there opened it; the lieutenant, very red in the face, delivered +his prisoner, then, at a nod from the grey-clad officer who was sitting +behind a writing desk, saluted, faced about, and marched out. The door +closed sharply behind him. + + + + + CHAPTER II + + THE MAN IN GREY + + +Young Guild looked steadily at the man in grey, and the man in grey +gazed as steadily back from behind his desk. + +He was a man of forty-five, lean, well built, blond, and of regular +features save that his cheek-bones were a trifle high, which seemed to +crowd his light blue eyes, make them narrower, and push them into a very +slight slant. He had the well-groomed aspect of a Prussian officer, dry +of skin, clean-shaven save for the mustache _en croc_, which his bony +but powerful and well-kept hands absently caressed at intervals. + +His forehead was broad and benevolent, but his eyes modified the +humanity and his mouth almost denied it--a mouth firm without +shrewdness, not bad, not cruel for the sake of cruelty, yet moulded in +lines which promised no hope other than that iron justice which knows no +mercy. + +"Mr. Guild?" + +"Yes, General." + +General von Reiter folded his bony hands and rested them on the blotter. + +"You say that you are American?" + +"Yes." + +"How came you to be among the Yslemont hostages?" + +"I was stopping at the Hotel Poste when the Uhlans and cyclists suddenly +appeared. The captain of Uhlans took the Burgomaster with whom I had +been playing chess, myself, the notary, and other leading citizens." + +"Did you tell him you are American?" + +"Yes. But he paid no attention." + +"Had you a passport?" + +"Yes." + +"Other papers to establish your identity?" + +"A few business letters from New York. They read them, but told me they +were of no use to me." + +"Why did you not communicate with your nearest Consul or with the +American Minister in Brussels?" + +"They refused me the use of telephone and telegraph. They said that I am +Belgian and properly liable to be taken as hostage for the good +behaviour of Yslemont." + +General von Reiter's hand was lifted meditatively to his mustache. He +said: "What happened after you were refused permission to communicate +with the American representatives?" + +"We were all in the dining-room of the Hotel Poste under guard. At the +Burgomaster's dictation I was writing out a proclamation warning the +inhabitants of Yslemont not to commit any act of violence against the +German soldiery and explaining that we were held as hostages for their +good behaviour and that a shot fired at a German meant a dead wall and a +squad of execution for us and the destruction of Yslemont for them--" He +flushed, hesitated. + +"Continue," said the general. + +"While I was still writing the shots were fired. We all went to the +window and we saw Uhlans galloping across the fields after some peasants +who were running into the woods. Afterward two stretchers came by with +Germans lying in them. After that an officer came and cursed us and the +soldiers tied our hands behind our backs. We sat there in the +dining-room until the Uhlans came riding into the street with their +prisoners tied by ropes to their saddles. Then a major of infantry came +into the dining-room and read our sentence to us. Then they marched us +out into the fog." + +The general crossed his spurred boots under the desk and lay back in his +chair, looking at Guild all the while. + +"So you are American, Mr. Guild?" + +"Yes, General." + +"In business in New York?" + +"Yes." + +"What business?" + +"Real estate." + +"Where?" + +"Union Square, West." + +"What is the name of the firm in which you are associated?" + +"Guild and Darrel." + +"Is that your partner's name?" + +"Yes. Henry Darrel." + +"Why are you here in Belgium?" + +"I was making a foot tour in the Ardennes." + +"Your business vacation?" + +"Yes. I was to meet my partner in Luxembourg and return to New York with +him." + +"You and your partner are both absent from New York at the same time?" + +"Yes." + +"How is that?" + +"Real estate in New York is quiet. There is practically no business +now." + +The general nodded. "Yes," he said, "much of what you tell me has been +corroborated. In the Seegard Regiment of Infantry Number 569 you were +recognized by several non-commissioned officers and men while you stood +with the hostages awaiting--ah--justice," he added drily. + +"Recognized?" repeated Guild. + +"The soldiers who recognized you had served in New York hotels as clerks +or waiters, I believe. The captain of that company, in consequence, very +properly reported the matter to Colonel von Eschbach, who telephoned to +me. And I am here to consider the matter." + +Then, folding his arms and looking hard at Guild out of narrowing eyes +that began to slant again: + +"The hostages of Yslemont have justly forfeited their lives. Two of my +officers have been murdered there in the streets. The law is plain. Is +there any reason why these hostages should not pay the proper penalty?" + +"The Burgomaster was in the act of dictating----" + +"He should have dictated faster!" + +"These gentlemen did not fire the shots----" + +"But those over whom they exercised authority did!" + +Guild fell silent and his features paled a little. The general watched +him in silence for a moment and an inquiring expression came into his +narrow eyes. + +"Well?" he said at length. + +Guild lifted his eyes. + +"Well, sir," repeated the general. "I have said that there is no reason +why the hostages taken at Yslemont should not be turned over to the +squad of execution outside there in the hallway." + +"I heard you say it." + +The general looked at him curiously. "You have nothing to say?" + +"No." + +"Not for yourself?" + +"No." + +"As a matter of fact, Mr. Guild, what was your ultimate object in +passing through Yslemont?" + +"I have already told you that I had intended to make a foot tour through +the Three Ardennes." + +"_Had_ intended?" + +"Yes." + +"Was that still your intention when you were made prisoner?" + +After a moment's hesitation: "No," said Guild in a low voice. + +"You altered your plan?" + +"Yes." + +"You decided to employ your vacation otherwise?" + +"Yes." + +"How?" + +"I decided to enlist," said Guild. He was very white, now. + +"Enlist?" + +"Yes." + +"In the British army?" + +"The Belgian." + +"Oh! So now you do not remind me that, as an American, you claim +exemption from the execution of the sentence?" + +"I have said enough," replied Guild. A slight colour showed over his +cheek-bones. + +"If I shoot the Burgomaster and the notary and the others in there, +ought I to let you go--on your own representations?" + +"I have said enough," repeated Guild. + +"Oh! So you refuse to plead any particular exemption on account of your +nationality?" + +No answer. + +"And you, by your silence, permit yourself to be implicated in the +responsibility of your fellow-hostages?" + +No reply. + +"Why?--Mr. Guild. Is it, perhaps, after all because you are not an +American in the strictest sense of that often misused term?" + +There was no response. + +"You were born in America?" + +"Yes." + +"Your father, perhaps, was born there?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! And _his_ father?" + +"No." + +"Oh! You are, I see, quite candid, Mr. Guild." + +"Yes, when necessary." + +"I see. Very well, then. Where do you get your Christian name, Kervyn? +Is it an American name?" + +"No." + +"The name, Guild--is that an American name?" + +"Yes." + +"But--_is_ it _your_ name?" + +"Yes." + +"Was it, by chance, ever spelled a little differently--in times gone by, +Mr. Guild?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! And how, in times gone by, was it spelled by your--grandfather?" + +Guild looked him calmly in the eyes. "It was spelled Gueldres," he said. + +"I see, I see. That _is_ interesting. Gueldres, Kervyn Gueldres. Why, it +sounds almost Belgian. Let me see--if I remember--there was such a +family inscribed in the Book of Gold. There was even a Kervyn of +Gueldres--a count, was he not?--Comte d'Yvoir--Count of Yvoir, Hastière, +and Lesse. Was he not--this Kervyn of Gueldres, many, many years ago?" + +"I congratulate General von Reiter on his memory for such unimportant +history as that of Belgium," said Guild, reddening. + +"Oh, we Germans are studious in our youth--and thorough. Nothing is too +unimportant to ignore and"--he smiled grimly--"nothing is too vast for +us to undertake--and accomplish." + +He lifted his hand to his mustache again. "Mr. Guild," he said, "at the +elections in America you--ah--vote of course?" + +"No." + +"What?" + +Guild remained silent. + +The general, stroking his mustache, said pleasantly: "The Belgian +nobility always interested me; it is so exclusive and there are so few +families of the _classe noble_. Except for those ten families who are +independent of Court favour--like the Croys and De Lignes--there seem to +be only about thirty families who possess the privileges of the Golden +Book. Is this not so?" + +"General von Reiter appears to know." + +The general seemed gratified at this corroboration of his own memory. +"And," he went on amiably, "this Belgian nobility is a real nobility. +Once of it, always a part of it. And, too, its code is so rigid, so +inexorably precise that it seems almost Prussian. For example, the code +of the Belgian aristocracy permits none of its members to go into any +commercial business, any trade--even forbids an entry into high finance. +Only the Church and Army are open to it; and in the Army only the two +Guides regiments and the Lancers are permitted to young men of the +aristocracy." He gazed almost mildly at the young man: "You are in +business, you tell me?" + +"Yes." + +"Oh! Then of course you have never been a soldier." + +Guild was silent. + +"_Have_ you ever served in the army?" + +"Yes." + +"Really! In what American regiment have you served?" + +"In a militia regiment of cavalry--the 1st New York." + +"How interesting. And--you have never served in the regular army?" + +"N--" but Guild hesitated. + +General von Reiter watched him intently. + +"Did you reply in the negative, Mr. Guild?" + +"No, I did not reply at all." + +"Oh! Then would you be good enough to reply?" + +"If--you insist." + +"I insist." + +"Very well," said Guild, reddening, "then I have served in the--Belgian +army." + +The general nodded without surprise: "In what regiment?" + +"In the first regiment of Guides." + +"You came from America to do this?" + +"Yes." + +"When?" + +"When I became of military age." + +"Noblesse oblige?" + +No reply. + +"In other words, you are an American with all the Belgian aristocracy's +sense of responsibility to race and tradition. You are a good American, +but there are inherited instincts which sent you back to serve two years +with the colours--to serve a country which for ten hundred years your +race has defended. And--the Guides alone was open to a Gueldres--where, +in America, a Guild was free to choose. Monsieur, you are Belgian; and, +as a Belgian, you were properly seized as a hostage and properly +sentenced to pay the penalty for the murderous misbehaviour of your own +people! I approve the sentence. Have you anything to say?" + +"No." + +The general regarded him closely, then rose, came around the end of the +desk, walked across the room and halted directly in front of Guild. + +"So you see there is no chance for you," he said, staring hard at him. + +Guild managed to control his voice and speak clearly: "I see," he said. + +"Suppose," said von Reiter, still staring at him, "I ask you to do me a +favour?" + +Guild's face was marble, but he managed to force a smile: "You ask a +favour of a prisoner a few moments before his execution?" + +"I do. Will you grant it?" + +"What is it?" + +"Nothing dishonourable to a good--American." + +"That is not enough; and you know it." + +"Very well. I shall tell you then. I have a daughter in England. I can't +get her away from England--I can't get word to her. I--" suddenly his +dry, blond features twitched, but instantly the man had them under iron +control again, and he cleared his throat: "She is in England near +London. We are at war with England. I want my daughter out of the +country. I can't get her out. Go and get her for me!" + +For a full minute the two men gazed at each other in silence. Then von +Reiter said: "I know enough of you. If you say you'll do it I'll free +the Burgomaster and the others in there--" he jerked his bony thumb +toward the hallway outside--"If you say you'll do it--if you say you'll +go to England, now, and find my daughter, and bring her here to me--or +conduct her to whatever point I designate, I'll not have those men shot; +I'll not burn the rest of Yslemont; I'll see that you are conducted to +the Dutch frontier unmolested after you carry out your engagements with +me. Will you do it?" + +[Illustration: "'If you say you'll do it, ... I'll not have those men +shot'"] + +Guild met his intent gaze with a gaze as searching: + +"What is your daughter's name?" + +"Her name is Karen." + +"Where am I to find her?" + +"Thirty miles out of London at Westheath. She is known there as Karen +Girard." + +"What!" said Guild sharply. + +"She chose to be so known in her profession." + +"Her profession?" + +"She has been on the stage--against my wishes. She is preparing herself +further--contrary to my wishes. Until she disassociates herself from +that profession she will not use the name of von Reiter." + +Guild nodded slowly: "_That_ is why your daughter is known as Karen +Girard?" + +"That is why. She is a young girl--nineteen. She went to school in her +mother's country, Denmark. She imbibed notions there--and, later, in +England among art students and others. It is the well-born who succumb +most easily to nonsense once the discipline is relaxed. She has had her +way in spite of my authority. Now it is time for such insubordination to +cease. I wish to have my daughter back. I cannot get her. You +are--American--to all intents and purposes, and you would be under no +suspicion in England. Your appearance, your speech, your manners all are +above suspicion. You _can_ do this. I have made up my mind concerning +you, and I trust you. Will you go to England, find my daughter and bring +her back to me here; or, if I am ordered elsewhere, will you escort her +to my country place in Silesia which is called Rehthal?" + +"Suppose I do not find her? Suppose I fail?" + +"You will return here and report to me." + +"If I fail and I return here and report my failure, does that mean the +execution of the gentlemen in the drawing-room yonder?" + +"It does." + +"And the destruction of Yslemont?" + +"Absolutely." + +"And--" the young man smiled--"incidentally it means my own execution, +does it not?" + +"It does." + +They gazed at each other with intense interest. + +"Under such circumstances do you think I'll come back if I am not +successful?" inquired the younger man. + +"I am satisfied that you will return if you say you will." + +"Return to face my own execution?" repeated Guild, curiously. "You +believe that of me?--of a man about whom you know nothing--a man +who"--his animated features suddenly darkened and he caught his breath a +moment, then--"a man who considers your nation a barbarous one, your +rulers barbarians, your war inexcusable, your invasion of this land the +vilest example of treachery and dishonour that the world has ever +witnessed--you still believe that such a man might consider himself +bound to return here if unsuccessful and face one of your murdering +platoons? _Do_ you?" he repeated, the slightest intonation of violence +beginning to ring in the undertones of his voice. + +Von Reiter's dry, blond features had become greyer and more set. His +light blue eyes never left the other; behind their pale, steady scrutiny +he seemed to be considering every word. + +He drew in his breath, slowly; his very thin lips receded for a moment, +then the fixed tranquillity returned. + +"We Germans," he said drily, "care nothing for what Europe may think of +us or say about us. Perhaps we are vandals, Goths, Huns--whatever you +call them. Perhaps we are barbarians. I think we _are_! For we mean to +scour the old world clean of its rottenness--cauterize it, cut out the +old sores of a worn-out civilization, scrape its surface clean of the +parasite nations. ... And, if _fire_ be necessary to burn out the last +traces--" His light blue eyes glimmered a very reflection of the +word--"then let fire pass. It has passed, before--God's Angel of the +Flaming Sword has returned again to lead us! What is a cathedral or +two--or pictures or foolish statues--or a million lives? Yes, if you +choose, we are barbarians. And we intend to plow under the accumulated +decay of the whole world, and burn up its rubbish and found our new +world on virgin earth. Yes, we _are_ barbarians. And our Emperor is a +barbarian. And God, who creates with one hand and destroys with the +other--God--autocrat of material creation, inexorable Over-Lord of +ultimate material annihilation, is the greatest barbarian of all! Under +His orders we are moving. In His name we annihilate! Amen!" + +A dead silence ensued. And after it had lasted a little while the tall +Prussian lifted his hand absently to his mustache and touched it +caressingly. + +"I am satisfied, whatever your opinion may be of me or of my people, +that you will return if you say you will, successful or otherwise. I +promise you immunity if you return with my daughter; I promise you a +wall and a file of men if you return unsuccessful. But, in either event, +I am satisfied that you will return. Will you go?" + +"Yes," said Guild, thoughtfully. They stood for a moment longer, the +young man gazing absently out of the window toward the menacing smoke +pall which was increasing above Yslemont. + +"You promise not to burn the remainder of the village?" he asked, +turning to look at von Reiter. + +"I promise not to burn it if you keep your promise." + +"I'll try.... And the Burgomaster, notary, magistrate, and the others +are to be released?" + +"If you do what I ask." + +"Very well. It's worth trying for. Give me my credentials." + +"You need no written ones. Letters are unsafe. You will go to my +daughter, who has leased a small cottage at Westheath. You will say to +her that you come from me; that _the question which she was to decide on +the first of November must be decided sooner_, and that when she arrives +at Rehthal in Silesia she is to telegraph me through the General Staff +of her arrival. If I can obtain leave to go to Silesia I shall do so. If +not, I shall telegraph my instructions to her." + +"Will that be sufficient for your daughter to place her confidence in a +man absolutely strange to her and accompany that man on a journey of +several days?" asked Guild, slightly astonished. + +"Not quite sufficient," said von Reiter, his dry, blond visage slightly +relaxing. + +He drew a rather plain ring from his bony finger: "See if you can wear +that," he said. "Does it fit you?" + +Guild tried it on. "Well enough." + +"Is there any danger of its slipping off?" + +Guild tried it on another finger, which it fitted snugly. + +"It looks like any other plain gold ring," he remarked. + +"Her name is engraved inside." + +"Karen?" + +"Karen." + +There came a short pause. Then: "Do you know London?" asked von Reiter. + +"Passably." + +"Oh! You are likely to require a touring car. You'll find it difficult +to get. May I recommend the Edmeston Agency? It's about the only agency, +now, where any gasoline at all is obtainable. The Edmeston Agency. I use +it when I am in London. Ask for Mr. Louis Grätz." + +After a moment he added, "My chauffeur brought your luggage, rücksack, +stick, and so forth, from Yslemont. You will go to the enemies' lines +south of Ostend in my car. One of my aides-de-camp will accompany you +and show you a letter of instructions before delivering you to the +enemies' flag of truce. You will read the letter, learn it by heart, and +return it to my aide, Captain von Klipper. + +"There is a bedroom above. Go up there. Food will be sent you. Get what +sleep you can, because you are to leave at sunrise. Is this arrangement +agreeable to you--_Monsieur le Comte de Gueldres_?" + +"Perfectly, General Baron von Reiter." + +"Also. Then I have the honour to wish you good night and a pleasant +sleep." + +"I thank you and I have the honour to wish you the same," said Guild, +bowing pleasantly. + +General von Reiter stood aside and saluted with stiff courtesy as the +young man passed out. + +A few moments later a regimental band somewhere along the Yslemont +highway began to play "Polen Blut." + +If blood were the theme, they ought to have played it well enough. + + + + + CHAPTER III + + TIPPERARY + + +At noon on the following day Kervyn Guild wrote to his friend Darrel: + + DEAR HARRY: + + Instead of joining you on the Black Erenz for the late August + trout fishing I am obliged to go elsewhere. + + I have had a most unpleasant experience, and it is not ended, + and I do not yet know what the outcome is to be. + + From the fact that I have not dated this letter it will be + evident to you that I am not permitted to do so. Also you will + understand that I have been caught somewhere in the war zone and + that is why the name of the place from which I am writing you is + omitted--by request. + + We have halted for luncheon at a wayside inn--the gentleman who + is kind enough to accompany me, and I--and I have obtained this + benevolent gentleman's authorization to write you whatever I + please as long as I do NOT + + 1st. Tell you where I am going. + + 2d. Tell you where I am. + + 3d. Tell you anything else that does not suit him. + + And he isn't a censor at that; he is just a very efficient, + polite, and rather good-looking German officer serving as aide + on the staff of a certain German major-general. + + Day before yesterday, after luncheon, I was playing a quiet game + of chess with the Burgomaster of a certain Belgian village, and + was taking a last look before setting out for Luxembourg on + foot, rücksack, stick, and all, when--well, circumstances over + which I had no control interrupted the game of chess. It was + white to go and mate in three moves. The Burgomaster was playing + black. I had him, Harry. Too bad, because he was the best player + in--well in that neighbourhood. I opened with a Lopez and he + replied most irregularly. It certainly was interesting. I am + sorry that I couldn't mate him and analyze the game with him. + However, thank Heaven, I did announce mate in three moves, and + the old gentleman was still defiantly studying the situation. I + admit he refused to resign. + + I left that village toward evening in a large, grey automobile. + I and the gentleman who still accompanies me slept fairly well + that night, considering the fact that a town was on fire all + around us. + + In the morning we made slow progress in our automobile. Roads + and fields were greenish grey with troops--a vast horde of them + possessed the valleys; they enveloped the hills like fog-banks + turning the whole world grey--infantry, artillery, cuirassiers, + Uhlans, hussars--all mist colour from helmet to heel--and so are + their waggons and guns and caissons and traction-engines and + motor-cycles and armoured cars and aeroplanes. + + The latter are magnificent in an artistic sense--perfect + replicas of giant pigeon-hawks, circling, planing, sheering the + air or sailing high, majestic as a very lammergeier, fierce, + relentless, terrible. + + My efficient companion who is reading this letter over my + shoulder as I write it, and who has condescended to permit a + ghost of a smile to mitigate, now and then, the youthful + seriousness of his countenance, is not likely to object when I + say to you that what I have seen of the German army on the march + is astoundingly impressive. + + (He smiles again very boyishly and says he doesn't object.) + + Order, precision, a knowledge of the country absolutely + unhesitating marks its progress. There is much singing in the + infantry ranks. The men march well, their physique is fine, the + cavalry are superbly mounted, the guns--(He shakes his head, so + never mind the guns.) + + Their regimental bands are wonderful. It is a sheer delight to + listen to them. They play everything from "Polen Blut" and + "Sari," to Sousa, "Tannhäuser," and "A Hot Time," but I haven't + yet heard "Tipperary." (He seems puzzled at this, but does not + object.) I expect shortly to hear a band playing it. (I have to + explain to my efficient companion that "Tipperary" is a tune + which ought to take Berlin and Vienna _by storm_ when they hear + it. It takes Berlin and Vienna to really appreciate good music. + He agrees with me.) + + Yesterday we passed a convoy of prisoners, some were kilted. I + was not permitted to speak to them--but, Oh, those wistful eyes + of Scottish blue! I guess they understood, for they got all the + tobacco I had left. (My companion is doubtful about this, but + finally shrugs his shoulders.) + + There is an awesome noise going on beyond us in--well in a + certain direction. I think that all the artillery ever made is + producing it. There's practically no smoke visible against the + clear blue August sky--nothing to see at all except the feathery + cotton fleece of shrapnel appearing, expanding, vanishing over a + hill on the horizon, and two aeroplanes circling high like a + pair of mated hawks. + + And all the while this earth-rocking diapason continues more + terrible, more majestic than any real thunder I ever heard. + + We have had luncheon and are going on. He drank five quarts of + Belgian beer! I am permitted a few minutes more and he orders + the sixth quart. This is what I have to say: + + In case anything should go wrong with me give the enclosed note + to my mother. Please see to it that everything I have goes to + her. My will is in my box in our safe at the office. It is all + quite clear. There should be no trouble. + + I expressed my trunk to your care in Luxembourg. You wrote me + that you had received it and placed it in storage to await my + leisurely arrival. In case of accident to me send it to my + mother. + + About the business, my share in any deals now on should go to my + brother. After that if you care to take George in when he comes + out of Harvard it would gratify his mother and me. + + He's all to the good, you know. But don't do this if the + business does not warrant it. Don't do it out of sentiment, + Harry. If he promises to be of use, and if you have no other man + in view, and if, as I say, business conditions warrant such an + association with a view to eventual partnership, then if you + care to take in George it will be all right. + + He has sufficient capital, as you know. He lacks only the + business experience. And he is intelligent and quick and it + won't take him long. + + But if you prefer somebody else don't hesitate. George is + perfectly able to take care of his mother and himself. + + This is all, I think. I'm sorry about the August fishing on the + Black Erenz. It is a lovely stream and full of trout. All + Luxembourg is lovely; it is a story-book country--a real land of + romance. I wish I might have seen it again. Never were such + forests, such silver streams, such golden glades, such + wild-flowers--never such hills, such meadows, such skies. + + Well--if I come back to you, I come back. If not--good-bye, old + fellow--with all it implies between friends of many years. + + Say to your kind friends, the Courlands, who so graciously + invited you to bring me with you to Lesse Forest, that I shall + not be able to accept their delightful hospitality, and that my + inability to do so must remain to me a regret as long as I live. + (These guns are thundering enough to crack the very sky! I + really wish I could hear some band playing "Tipperary.") + + Good-bye for a while--or indefinitely. Good luck to you. + + KERVYN GUILD. + +"Is that quite acceptable to you?" asked Guild of the young Death's Head +hussar beside him. + +"Quite acceptable," replied the officer politely. "But what is there +remarkable in anybody drinking six quarts of beer?" + +Guild laughed: "Here is the note that I desire to enclose with it, if I +may do so." And he wrote: + + DEAREST: + + You must not grieve too much. You have George. It could not be + avoided, honourably. He and I are good Americans; we are, + perhaps, something else, too. But what the Book of Gold holds it + never releases; what is written there is never expunged. George + must do what I did when the time comes. I would have done + more--was meaning to--was on my way. Destiny has ordered it + otherwise. + + While I live I think always of you. And it shall be so until the + last. + + This letter is to be sent to you by Harry Darrel only in the + event of my death. + + There's a good chance for me. But if things go wrong, then, + good-bye, dearest. + + KERVYN. + + P. S. + + Tell George that it's up to him, now. + K. + +He held out the letter cheerfully to the hussar, but the latter had read +it, and he merely nodded in respectful silence. So Guild folded it, +sealed it in an envelope, wrote on it, "For my Mother in case of my +death," and inclosed it in his letter to Darrel. + +"Any time you are ready now," he said, rising from the little enameled +iron table under the arbour. + +The hussar rose, clanking, and set a whistle to his lips. Then, turning: +"I shall have yet one more glass of beer," he said blandly, but his eyes +twinkled. + +The grey car rolled up in a few moments. Over it at a vast height +something soared in hawk-like circles. It may have been a hawk. There +was no telling at such a height. + +So they drove off again amid the world-shaking din of the guns +paralleling the allied lines toward the west. Ostend lay somewhere in +that direction, the channel flowed beyond; beyond that crouched +England--where bands were playing "Tipperary"--and where, perhaps, a +young girl was listening to that new battle song of which the young +hussar beside him had never even heard. + +As the grey car hummed westward over the Belgian road, Guild thought of +these things while the whole world about him was shaking with the +earthquake of the guns. + +"Karen," he repeated under his breath, "Karen Girard." + +After a while sentinels began to halt them every few rods. The chauffeur +unrolled two white flags and set them in sockets on either side of the +hood. The hussar beside him produced a letter from his grey +despatch-pouch. + +"General von Reiter's orders," he said briefly. "You are to read them +now and return the letter to me before the enemies' parlementaire +answers our flag." + +Guild took the envelope, tore it open, and read: + + Orders received since our interview make it impossible for me to + tell you where to find me on your return. + + My country place in Silesia is apparently out of the question at + present as a residence for the person you are expected to bring + back with you. The inclosed clipping from a Danish newspaper + will explain why. Therefore you will sail from London on + Wednesday or Sunday, taking a Holland liner. You will land at + Amsterdam, go by rail through Utrecht, Helmond, Halen, + Maastricht. You will be expected there. If I am not there you + will remain over night. + + If you return from your journey _alone_ and unsuccessful you + will surrender yourself as prisoner to the nearest German post + and ask the officer in charge to telegraph me. + + If you return successful you shall be permitted at Eijsden to + continue your journey with the person you bring with you, across + the Luxembourg border to Trois Fontaines, which is just beyond + the Grand Duchy frontier; and you shall then deliver the person + in question to the housekeeper of the hunting lodge, Marie + Bergner. The lodge is called Quellenheim, and it belongs to me. + If I am not there you must remain there over night. In the + morning if you do not hear from me, you are at liberty to go + where you please, and your engagements vis-à-vis to me are + cancelled. + + VON REITER, Maj-Gen'l. + +The inclosed newspaper clipping had been translated into French and +written out in long-hand. The translation read as follows: + + Russia's invasion of East Prussia, Posen and Silesia has sent a + wave of panic over the eastern provinces of the German Empire, + if reports from Copenhagen and Stockholm are to be credited. + These reports are chiefly significant as indicating that the + Russian advance is progressing more rapidly than has been + asserted even by despatches from Petrograd. + + A correspondent of the _Daily Telegraph_ reports from Stockholm + that the whole of eastern Germany is upset by the menace of + Cossack raids. He hears that a diplomatic despatch from Vienna + contains information that the civilian inhabitants of + Koenigsberg, East Prussia, and Breslau, in Silesia, are + abandoning their homes and that only the military will remain in + these strongholds. + + From Copenhagen it is reported, allegedly from German sources, + that Silesia expects devastation by fire and sword and that the + wealthy Prussian landholders, whose immense estates cover + Silesia, are leading the exodus toward the west. The military + authorities have done everything possible to check the panic, + fearing its hurtful influence on Germany's prospects, but have + been unable to reassure the inhabitants. Many of these have seen + bands of Cossacks who have penetrated a few miles over the + border and their warnings have spread like a forest fire. + +For a long while the young man studied the letter, reading and +re-reading it, until, closing his eyes, he could repeat it word for +word. + +And when he was letter perfect he nodded and handed back the letter to +the hussar, who pouched it. + +A moment later the car ran in among a horde of mounted Uhlans, and one +of their officers came galloping up alongside of the machine. + +He and the hussar whispered together for a few minutes, then an Uhlan +was summoned, a white cloth tied to his lance-shaft, and away he went on +his powerful horse, the white flag snapping in the wind. Behind him +cantered an Uhlan trumpeter. + +Toward sunset the grey automobile rolled west out into open country. A +vast flat plain stretched to the horizon, where the sunset flamed +scarlet and rose. + +But it was almost dusk before from somewhere across the plain came the +faint strains of military music. + +The hussar's immature mustache bristled. "British!" he remarked. "Gott +in Himmel, what barbarous music!" + +Guild said nothing. They were playing "Tipperary." + +And now, through the late rays of the afterglow, an Uhlan trumpeter, +sitting his horse on the road ahead, set his trumpet to his lips and +sounded the parley again. Far, silvery, from the misty southwest, a +British bugle answered. + +Guild strained his eyes. Nothing moved on the plain. But, at a nod to +the chauffeur from the hussar, the great grey automobile rolled forward, +the two Uhlans walking their horses on either side. + +Suddenly, east and west as far as the eye could see, trenches in endless +parallels cut the plain, swarming with myriads and myriads of men in +misty grey. + +The next moment the hussar had passed a black silk handkerchief over +Guild's eyes and was tying it rather tightly. + + + + + CHAPTER IV + + BAD DREAMS + + +His first night in London was like a bad dream to him. Lying half awake +on his bed, doggedly, tenaciously awaiting the sleep he needed, at +intervals even on its vision-haunted borderland, but never drifting +across it, he remained always darkly conscious of his errand and of his +sinister predicament. + +The ineffaceable scenes of the last three days obsessed him; his mind +seemed to be unable to free itself. The quieter he lay, the more grimly +determined he became that sleep should blot out these tragic memories +for a few hours at least, the more bewildering grew the confusion in his +haunted mind. Continually new details were evoked by his treacherous and +insurgent memory--trifles terrible in their minor significance--the +frightened boy against the wall snivelling against his ragged +shirt-sleeve--the sprawling attitudes of the dead men in the dusty +grass--and how, after a few moments, a mangled arm moved, blindly +groping--and what quieted it. + +Incidents, the petty details of sounds, of odours, of things irrelevant, +multiplied and possessed him--the thin gold-rimmed spectacles on the +Burgomaster's nose and the honest, incredulous eyes which gazed through +them at him when he announced checkmate in three moves. + +Did that tranquil episode happen years ago in another and calmer +life?--or a few hours ago in this? + +He heard again the startling and ominous sounds of raiding cavalry even +before they had become visible in the misty street--the flat slapping +gallop of the Uhlan's horses on the paved way, the tinkling clash of +broken glass. Again the thick, sour, animal-like stench of the unwashed +infantry seemed to assail and sicken him to the verge of faintness; and, +half awake, he saw a world of fog set thick with human faces utterly +detached from limbs and bodies--thousands and thousands of faces +watching him out of thousands and thousands of little pig-like eyes. + +His nerves finally drove him into motion and he swung himself out of bed +and walked to the window. + +His hotel was the Berkeley, and he looked out across Piccadilly into a +silent, sad, unlighted city of shadows. Only a single line of lighted +lamps outlined the broad thoroughfare. Crimson sparks twinkled here and +there--the lights of cabs. + +The great darkened Ritz towered opposite, Devonshire House squatted +behind its grilles and shadowy walls on the right, and beyond the great +dark thoroughfare stretched away into the night, melancholy, deserted +save for the slight stirring of a policeman here and there or the +passage of an automobile running in silence without lights. + +He had been standing by the window for ten minutes or so, a lighted +cigarette between his lips, both hands dropped into the pocket of his +pyjamas, when he became aware of a slight sound--a very slight +one--behind him. + +He turned around and his eyes fell upon the knob of the door. Whether or +not it was turning he could not determine in the dusk of the room. The +only light in it came through his windows from the starry August +night-sky. + +After a moment he walked toward the door, bare-footed across the velvet +carpet, halted, fixed his eyes on the door knob. + +After a moment it began to turn again, almost imperceptibly. And, in +him, every over-wrought nerve tightened to its full tension till he +quivered. Slowly, discreetly, noiselessly the knob continued to turn. +The door was not locked. Presently it began to open, the merest fraction +of an inch at a time; then, abruptly but stealthily, it began to close +again, as though the unseen intruder had caught sight of him, and Guild +stepped forward swiftly and jerked the door wide open. + +There was only the darkened hallway there, and a servant with a tray who +said very coolly, "Thanky, sir," and entered the room. + +"What-do-you-want?" asked Guild unsteadily. + +"You ordered whiskey and soda for eleven o'clock, sir." + +"I did not. Why do you try to enter my room without knocking?" + +"I understood your orders were not to disturb you but to place the tray +on the night-table beside your bed, sir." + +Guild regarded him steadily. The servant, clean-shaven, typical, +encountered the young man's gaze respectfully and with no more +disturbance than seemed natural under the circumstances of a not unusual +blunder. + +Guild's nerves relaxed and he drew a deep, quiet breath. + +"Somebody has made a mistake," he said. "I ordered nothing. And, +hereafter, anybody coming to my door will knock. Is that plain?" + +"Perfectly, sir." + +"Have the goodness to make it very plain to the management." + +"I'm sorry, sir----" + +"You understand, now?" + +"Certainly, sir." + +"Very well.... And, by the way, who on this corridor is likely to have +ordered that whiskey?" + +"Sir?" + +"Somebody ordered it, I suppose?" + +"Very likely the gentleman next door, sir----" + +"All right," said Guild quietly. "Try the door while I stand here and +look on." + +"Very good, sir." + +With equanimity unimpaired the waiter stepped to the next door on the +corridor, placed his tray flat on the palm of his left hand, and, with +his right hand, began to turn the knob, using, apparently, every +precaution to make no noise. + +But he was not successful; the glassware on his tray suddenly gave out a +clear, tinkling clash, and, at the same moment the bedroom door opened +from within and a man in evening dress appeared dimly framed by the +doorway. + +"Sorry, sir," said the waiter, "your whiskey, sir----" + +He stepped inside the room and the door closed behind him. Guild quietly +waited. Presently the waiter reappeared without the tray. + +"Come here," motioned Guild. + +The waiter said: "Yes, sir," in a natural voice. Doubtless the man next +door could hear it, too. + +Guild, annoyed, lowered his own voice: "Who is the gentleman in the next +room?" + +"A Mr. Vane, sir." + +"From where?" + +"I don't know, sir." + +"What is he, English?" + +"Yes sir, I believe so." + +"You don't happen to know his business, do you?" + +"No, sir." + +"I ask--it's merely curiosity. Wait a moment." He turned, picked up a +sovereign from a heap of coins on his night-table and gave it to the +waiter. + +"No need to repeat to anybody what I have asked you." + +"Oh, no, sir----" + +"All right. Listen very attentively to what I tell you. When I arrived +here this afternoon I desired the management to hire for my use a +powerful and absolutely reliable touring car and a chauffeur. I +mentioned the Edmeston Agency and a Mr. Louis Grätz. + +"Half an hour later the management informed me that they had secured +such a car for me from Mr. Louis Grätz at the Edmeston Agency; that I +was permitted sufficient gasoline to take me from here to Westheath, +back here again, and then to the docks of the Holland Steamship Company +next Sunday. + +"I've changed my mind. Tomorrow is Wednesday and a steamer sails from +Fresh Wharf for Amsterdam. Tell the management that I'll take that +steamer and that I want them to telephone the Edmeston Agency to have +the car here at six o'clock tomorrow morning." + +"Very good, sir." + +"Go down and tell them now. Ask them to confirm the change of orders by +telephone." + +"Very good, sir." + +A quarter of an hour later the bell tinkled in his room: "Are you there, +sir? Thank you, sir. The car is to be here at six o'clock. What time +would you breakfast, Mr. Guild?" + +"Five. Have it served here, please." + +"Thank you, sir." + +Guild went back to bed. Another detail bothered him now. If the man next +door had ordered whiskey and soda for eleven, _to be placed on the +night-table beside the bed_, why was he up and dressed and ready to open +the door when the jingle of glassware awaited him? + +Still there might be various natural explanations. Guild thought of +several, but none of them suited him. + +He began to feel dull and sleepy. That is the last he remembered, except +that his sleep was disturbed by vaguely menacing dreams, until he awoke +in the grey light of early morning, scarcely refreshed, and heard the +waiter knocking. He rose, unlocked his door, and let him in with his +tray. + +When the waiter went out again Guild relocked his door, turned on his +bath, took it red hot and then icy. And, thoroughly awake, now, he +returned to his room, breakfasted, dressed, rang for his account, and a +few minutes later descended in the lift to find his car and chauffeur +waiting, and the tall, many-medalled porter at salute by the door. + +"Westheath," he said to the smiling chauffeur. "Go as fast as you dare +and by the direct route." + +The chauffeur touched his peaked cap. He seemed an ideal chauffeur, +neat, alert, smiling, well turned out in fact as the magnificent and +powerful touring car which had been as thoroughly and minutely groomed +as a race-horse or a debutante. + +When the car rolled out into Piccadilly the waiter who had mistaken the +order for whiskey, watched it from the dining-room windows. Several +floors above, the man who had occupied the next bedroom also watched the +departure of the car. When it was out of sight the man whose name was +Vane went to the telephone and called 150 Fenchurch Street, E. C. It was +the office of the Holland Steamship Company. + +And the waiter who had entered the room unannounced, stood listening to +the conversation over the wire, and finally took the transmitter himself +for further conversation while Vane stood by listening, one hand resting +familiarly on the waiter's shoulder. + +After the waiter had hung up the receiver, Vane walked to the window, +stood a moment looking out, then came slowly back. + +"Gwynn," he said to the waiter, "this man, Guild, seems to be harmless. +He's known at the American Embassy. He's an American in the real estate +business in New York. It's true that Dart telegraphed from Ostend that +Guild came to our lines in a German military automobile under a white +flag. But he told a straight story. I'll run out to Westheath, and if +his business there is clean and above-board, I think we can give him a +clean bill of health." + +Gwynn said, slowly: "I don't like the way he questioned me last night. +Besides, a sovereign is too much even for an American." + +"He might have been afraid of robbery." + +"He was afraid of _something_." + +"Very well. We've passage on the boat if necessary. I'll go out to +Westheath anyway. If I don't care for what he is doing out there we can +hold him on the dock." + +"Another thing," mused Gwynn. "The Edmeston Agency may be quite all +right, but the man's name is Grätz." + +"He's been under scrutiny. He seems to be all right." + +"All the same--his name is all wrong. What was that chauffeur's name?" + +"Bush." + +"_Busch?_" + +"He spells it without a _c_. I saw his signature on the Agency rolls." + +"Have you his history?" + +"He's Canadian. I've sent for it." + +"You'll find that his father spelled his name with a _c_," remarked +Gwynn, gloomily. But Vane only laughed. + +"I'm off," he said. "Stick around where I can get you on the telephone +if necessary. But I don't think it will be necessary." + +"I do," muttered Gwynn. + + + + + CHAPTER V + + KAREN + + +The journey was the usual one through interminable London streets +alternately respectable and squalid; and straight ahead through equally +interminable suburbs with their endless "terraces," semi-detached and +detached villas, and here and there a fine old house behind neglected +garden walls, making its last forlorn stand against the all-destroying +inroad of the London jungle. + +There had been a heavy haze in London, but no fog. In the country, +however, beyond the last outstretched suburban tentacle of the inky +octopus the morning sun glimmered low through a golden smother, +promising a glimpse of blue sky. + +To Guild, one "heath" has always resembled another, and now, as they +passed through the country at high speed, there seemed to him very +little difference between the several named points which marked his +progress toward Westheath. Hedges alternated with ivy-covered walls on +either side of a wide, fine road; trees were splendid as usual, sheep +fat, cattle sleek. Here and there a common or heath glimmered +bewitchingly where sunlight fell among the whins; birds winged their +way, waters glimmered, and the clean, singing August wind of England +blew steadily in his face strangely reviving within him some ancient, +forgotten, pre-natal wistfulness. Maybe it came from his American +mother's English mother. + +Near two villages and once on the open highway policemen leisurely +signalled the chauffeur to stop, and came sauntering around to the +tonneau to question Guild as to his origin, his business, and his +destination; quiet, dignified, civil, respectable men they seemed to be +in their night cloaks and their always smart and business-like helmets +and uniforms. + +All seemed satisfied, but all politely suggested that passports were now +becoming fashionable in England. And Guild thanked them pleasantly and +drove on. + +"Bush," he said to his chauffeur, "this spy scare was ridiculed by the +newspapers, but it looks to me as though it were being taken rather +seriously after all." + +"It is, sir." + +"I understand that about thirty thousand German and Austrian reservists +have been arrested in England since war began?" + +"I hear so, sir." + +"I suppose the country really is swarming with spies. The paper +yesterday said that there was still a great and serious leakage of +military information out of England. One paper, yesterday afternoon, +reported that a number of spies had already been shot in the Tower." + +"I have heard so, sir," said the chauffeur smilingly. + +He was a blond, good-looking young fellow. Always his lips seemed to +rest in pleasant curves as though his reveries were agreeable. + +A few hideously modern detached villas were passed, then hedges, walls, +a wood, a modern bridge. + +"How near are we to Westheath now?" asked Guild, leaning forward in his +seat. + +"We are there, sir." And the smiling chauffeur slowed the car to a +standstill at a cross-roads where furze and broom grew rankly over the +heath and a few rather tawdry villas appeared among the trees beyond. + +Guild looked at his watch. It was only a little after seven, an +unearthly hour for a call upon any young girl, not to mention one to +whom he was personally unknown. + +A policeman still wearing his waterproof night cloak, came leisurely +across to learn what was wanted. + +"I am looking for the villa of Miss Girard--Miss Karen Girard," +explained Guild. + +"Hyacinth Villa, Number 169. Take the road to the right. It is the only +house." + +"Thank you." + +The car moved forward, swung to the right. About a quarter of a mile +away stood a small, modern stucco dwelling behind its hedge of privet. +Beyond that there were woods again and dewy uplands glimmering with +furze and brake. + +When they arrived they found the driveway closed by a gate. + +"Never mind; I'll walk to the house," said Guild. + +The smiling chauffeur leaned back and opened the tonneau door; Guild +descended, looked at the iron gate between its ugly stucco posts, peered +through it up the drive with its parallel rows of recently planted lime +trees. Everything about the place was recent if not brand new--ugly with +the ugliness of well-to-do bad taste. Red geraniums and yellow cannas +had been planted in fearsome juxtaposition, salvia flanked a red brick +terrace--a most unholy combination of colour. In the early morning the +sun exposed the place without mercy. It was lonesome and amazingly +depressing. + +Glancing up at the gate again he discovered a nickel-plated label +riveted to one of the stucco posts. On it was the name of the place, +"Hyacinth Villa," and its number 169. + +There was no lodge, no bell, but the wicket gate was not locked. So +Guild entered. + +"Shall I drive up to the house, sir?" inquired the chauffeur. + +"No; wait out here." + +There seemed to be no sign of life about the house when at last he +arrived in front of it--nobody apparently stirring at that hour. He +hesitated; he still wore the same knickerbockers and cap which he had +worn in Belgium. His sack, which was now in the car, contained only +fresh linen; and he began to wonder what his reception might be in such +a costume and at such an hour. He doubted that the unconventionality of +the daughter of a Prussian aristocrat might extend far enough to accept +him, his rather shabby clothes, and his explanation of the visit. + +It was all very well for this young girl to kick over the tradition, cut +home traces in the sacred cause of art, call herself Girard, and live in +an impossible villa for art's sake. Few well-born Fräuleins ever did +this sort of thing, but there had been instances. And anybody in Germany +will always add that they invariably went to the devil. + +Guild rang. After he had waited long enough he rang again. After that he +resumed his ringing. Keeping his finger pressed on the electric button +and laying his ear to the door. The bell was doing its duty inside the +house; he could hear it. + +Presently he heard a fumbling of chains and locks inside, the door +opened on a crack and a sleepy voice inquired: "Is it you, Anna?" + +Guild hesitated: "I wish to see Miss Girard. Is she at home?" + +"Who are you?" demanded the voice no longer sleepy. + +"My name is Guild. I am sorry to disturb Miss Girard at such an hour, +but I cannot help it. Is Miss Girard in?" + +"Yes; I am Miss Girard." + +"Are you Miss Karen Girard?" + +"Yes. Why do you wish to see me?" + +"I can't tell you here. Are you dressed?" + +There was a pause, then she said: "No." + +"Please dress as quickly as you can. Dress for travel." + +"What!" + +"If you have a travelling dress put it on. You can pack your luggage +while I am talking to you. But dress as quickly as you can and then +return and let me in." + +She said after a moment's silence: "I certainly shall not do any of +those things until I know more about you and about your errand here." + +"I have a message for you from General Baron Kurt von Reiter." + +"That is possible," she said quietly. "What is the message?" + +"I was to say to you that the question which you were to decide on the +first of November must be decided sooner." + +"I must have clearer proof that your message is genuine. I am sorry to +distrust you but I have been annoyed lately." + +"Very well," he said. "Open the door a little more. Don't be afraid. I +merely wish you to look at a ring which I wear. I want you to draw it +from my finger and look at what is engraved inside." + +There was another silence. Then the door crack slowly widened. + +"Please extend your hand," she said. + +There was just enough of space for him to slip his hand between door and +frame and he did so. There came a light, soft touch on his ring-finger. +The ring slipped off. + +[Illustration: "There came a light, soft touch on his ring-finger"] + +When she spoke again her voice was altered: "I shall dress immediately," +she said. "I shall not keep you waiting long. You will find the door +open. Please come in when I have gone upstairs." + +"Thank you." + +He could hear her light, flying feet on the stairs; he waited a little +longer, then opened the door. + +The hallway was dark, and he left the door open, then entered the room +to the left which seemed to be a library, music-room and living-room +combined. Books, piano, easy chairs and sofas loomed in the dim light of +drawn curtains. An easel on which stood a water-colour drawing occupied +the end of the room, and beside it was a table on which were porcelain +dishes, tubes of colour and scattered badger brushes. + +It was evident that Miss Girard's talents were multiple, for he noticed +also a violin and music stand near the piano, and on the violin score as +well as on the score spread across the piano the same hand had written +"Karen Girard." + +He stood by the table, mechanically picking up, one after another, the +books lying there. Some of the books were printed in French, some in +German, in Italian, in Danish, in Swedish, in English. Miss Girard's +name was written in all of them. Miss Girard appeared to be +accomplished. + +In the dim light Guild began to saunter around the room encountering +various evidences of Miss Girard's taste and mode of living--one or two +Braun photographs of Velasquez, Boucher, and Gainsborough on the +walls--certainly a catholicism of taste entirely admirable;--one or two +graceful bits of ancient Chinese art--blue and gold marvels of Pekin +enamel; a mille-fleur tapestry panel, a bundle of golf clubs, a tennis +bat, and a pair of spurs. + +He thought for himself that when a girl goes in for all of these +accomplishments it is because the gods have been otherwise unkind, and +that she has to. + +At the same time he remembered the voice he had heard through the +scarcely opened door--the lovely voice of a young English girl--than +which in all the world there is nothing half so lovely. + +And it suddenly occurred to him that there had not been in it the +faintest kind or trace of a German accent--that only its childish and +sleepy sweetness had struck him first, and then its purity and its +youthful and cultivated charm. + +Yes, truly, the gods had been kind to this young German girl of +nineteen, but it would be a little too much to ask of these same gods +that they endow her with figure and features commensurate with her other +charms and talents. + +Then he suddenly remembered her profession, and that she was studying +still for the dramatic profession. And he knew that this profession +naturally required exterior charm of any woman who desired to embrace +it. + +While these ideas and speculations were occupying his mind he heard her +on the stairs, and he turned and came forward as she entered the room. + +She was a slender, straight girl of medium height; and her face was one +of those fresh young faces which looked fragrant. And instantly the +thought occurred to him that she was the vivid, living incarnation of +her own voice, with her lilac-blue eyes and soft white neck, and the +full scarlet lips of one of those goddesses who was not very austere. + +She wore a loosely-belted jacket of tan-coloured covert-cloth, and +narrow skirts of the same, and a wide golden-brown hat, and tan spats. +The gods had been very, very kind to Miss Girard, for she even adorned +her clothes, and that phenomenon is not usual in Great Britain or among +German Fräuleins however accomplished and however well born. + +She said: "I beg your pardon for detaining you so long on the outside +door-step. Since the war began my maid and I have been annoyed by +strangers telephoning and even coming here to ask silly and impertinent +questions. I suppose," she added, disdainfully, "it is because there is +so much suspicion of foreigners in England." + +"I quite understand," he said. "Being German, your neighbors gossip." + +She shrugged her indifference. + +"Shall we talk here?" she asked gravely, resting one very white hand on +the back of a chair. "You come from General Baron Kurt von Reiter. The +ring is a credential beyond dispute." + +"We can talk anywhere you wish," he said, "but there is little time, and +somebody must pack a traveller's satchel for you. Have you a maid?" + +"She went to London yesterday evening. She was to have returned on the +eleven o'clock train last night. I can't understand it." + +"Are you alone in the house?" + +"Yes. My cook sleeps out. She does not come until half-past nine. My +maid serves my breakfast." + +"You haven't had any, then?" + +"No." + +"Can you fix something for yourself?" + +"Yes, of course. Shall I do so now?" + +"Yes. I'll go to the kitchen with you while you are doing it. There are +several things to say and the time is short." + +She led the way; he opened the kitchen shutters and let in the sunshine, +then stood a moment watching her as she moved about the place with +graceful celerity, preparing cocoa over an alcohol lamp, buttering a +roll or two and fetching cup, plate, spoon and marmalade. + +"Have you breakfasted?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. + +"Yes--it is very good of you----" + +"There will be plenty of cocoa and rolls--if you care for them. The +rolls are yesterday's and not fresh." + +She poured the cocoa in two cups and looked at him again in grave +invitation. + +"You are sure there is plenty?" he asked, smilingly. + +"Plenty." + +"Then--I do seem to be rather hungry." + +He drew a chair for her; she seated herself and ate with a youthful +appetite. He drank his cocoa, ate his rolls, and tried not to look at +her too often. + +"This is why I am here," he said. "I saw General Baron von Reiter four +days ago under somewhat extraordinary circumstances. + +"He told me that since the war broke out he had not been able to +communicate directly with you or to get you out of England, and he asked +me to find you and bring you to his estate at Trois Fontaines in +Luxembourg." + +"To Quellenheim?" she asked, surprised and disturbed. "Is he there?" + +"No, he is with a field army, and he does not know where orders from +staff headquarters may send him." + +"Still," she said, hesitating, "I should think that he might wish me to +go to Silesia----" + +"Silesia is threatened by the Russian army." + +"Silesia!" she repeated, incredulously. "Cossacks in Silesia?" She sat, +her cup of cocoa half raised to her lips, her surprised and disconcerted +eyes on his. Then she set the cup aside. + +"He wishes me to go to Quellenheim? With _you_?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +"Travelling on the continent is precarious." + +Her eyes rested on his; she said with a candour which he began to +understand was characteristic of her: "He seems to have confidence in +you. I never heard him speak of you. You are American?" + +"Yes." + +"That is odd. He never cared for Americans." + +Guild said: "He could not send a German into England." + +"That is true. Nor an Englishman either. No Englishman would be likely +to do anything to oblige a German." + +She rose: "I don't understand why Anna, my maid, is still absent," she +added uneasily. "My maid often goes to London, but never before has she +remained over night. I don't know why she remained. She knew I was alone +in the house." + +She lifted her serious blue eyes to Guild, then gazed out of the window, +evidently perplexed to the point of apprehension. + +"I am worried," she said, "very much worried. But that doesn't help, +does it?" + +"What was her errand in London?" asked Guild. + +"She has a brother there. I suppose it's all right or she would have +telephoned me." + +He said: "No doubt it is all right. And, may I ask you to hasten?" + +She rose: "Where am I to go with you?" + +"To London and then to the steamer." + +"Today?" + +"Today is Wednesday. No other Holland Line boat sails for Amsterdam +before Sunday, and I have yet our passage to secure and I must also go +to the War Office for a few moments. You see we have very little time." + +"But I can't pack my boxes then?" + +"You will have to leave them." + +"You mean I may take only a satchel?" + +"A suit-case and satchel if you wish. Leave a note for your maid +instructing her to send by express whatever else you wish sent after +you." + +"Is this haste necessary, Mr. Guild?" + +"Yes, it is. I want to get out of England. I am not sure that I can get +out if we wait until Sunday." + +"Why not?" + +"I may be detained. I may not be permitted to leave with you. All +foreigners are under more or less suspicion. I am rather sure that I +have been under surveillance already at the Berkeley Hotel." + +They had moved out into the hall together while he was speaking, and +now, together, they went up the stairs. + +"If you don't mind," she said, "my room is in disorder, but I'll have to +pack there and you will have to sit there if you wish to talk to me." + +It was a white and chintz room in dainty disorder. + +She went away and returned in a moment or two with a satchel and +suit-case. These she placed on the bed, opened, and then, dragging out +various drawers of chiffonier and chest, began to transfer her apparel +to the two bags. + +"I am extremely sorry," he said, "to hurry you so inconveniently." + +"I don't mind," she replied, busy with her packing. "You see I am an +actress and I have travelled with a company in the provinces. That _was_ +an experience!" She turned her pretty head and looked at Guild. "I had +no maid then, except at the theatres where we played, and I had to share +her with three other girls. Really, Mr. Guild, it taught me how to pack +things rather rapidly." + +Her white hands were flying as she folded and placed garment after +garment in the suit-case, serene, self-possessed, quite undisturbed by +his presence at the rather intimate display of her apparel. + +The garments were bewilderingly frail to him; she tucked and packed them +into place; a faint fresh scent seemed to freshen the place. + +He said: "I don't think we are going to have any trouble about leaving +England. But, if any trouble does arise, would you have sufficient +confidence in me to do what I say?" + +She continued her packing for a few moments without replying, then +turned and looked at him. + +And at the same moment the telephone on the table beside her bed +tinkled. + +"There is Anna now!" she exclaimed with the emphasis of relief. "Will +you pardon me? No, I don't mean you are to leave the room----" + +She lifted the receiver: "Yes, I am here.... Yes, this is Miss Girard. +Yes, Miss Karen Girard.... Mr. Louis Grätz? Oh, good morning!" + +At the name of the man with whom she was speaking Guild turned around +surprised. At the same instant the girl's face flushed brightly as she +sat listening to what the distant Mr. Grätz was saying to her. + +Guild watched her; perplexity, surprise, a deeper flush of +consternation, all were successively visible on her youthful face. + +"Yes," she said to Mr. Grätz. "Yes, I will do whatever he wishes.... +Yes, he is here--here in my room with me. We were talking while I +packed. Yes, I will do so." And, turning her head a little she said to +the young man behind her: "The Edmeston Agency desires to speak to you." + +He rose and took the receiver from her hand and bent over beside her +listening. + +"Are you there?" inquired a pleasant voice. + +"Yes." + +"I am Grätz of the Edmeston Agency. Get that young lady out of the house +at once. Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +"Her maid is in trouble. This agency may be in trouble at any moment. +She must not wait to pack. Get her into the car and take her to the +wharf and on board at once. Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +"Take her as your wife. Do you understand?" + +"I understand what you say," he said, amazed. + +"That is sufficient. Do as I tell you if you want to leave England." + +"Very well. But I must first go to the War Office----" + +"No!" + +"I must!" + +"No. It is useless; hopeless. It would have been the thing to do +yesterday. An explanation there would have given you credentials and +security. But not today. _She_ could not hope to leave. Do you +understand?" + +"No, but I hear you." + +"She could not expect permission to leave because her maid has been +arrested." + +"What!" + +"Yes! The charge is most serious." + +"What is it?" + +"Get into your car with the young lady and start at once. Don't go to +the steamship office in Fenchurch Street. Don't go to the War Office. Go +nowhere except to the wharf. Your passage has been secured as Mr. and +Mrs. Kervyn Guild of New York. The initials on the baggage will be K. G. +Your steamer tickets will be handed to you. You will pay no attention to +the man who hands them to you, no attention to anybody. You will go +aboard and go to your cabin until the ship is out at sea. Do you +understand?" + +"Perfectly." + +"Good-bye." + + + + + CHAPTER VI + + MR. AND MRS. + + +Guild hung up the receiver, stood a moment in thought then turned around +and looked gravely at the girl behind him. She gazed back at him as +though still a trifle breathless after some sudden shock. + +"What did that man say to you over the wire?" he asked in pleasant, even +tones. + +"He told me to trust you, and do what you told me to do. He said Anna, +my maid, had been arrested." + +"Who is he?" asked Guild grimly. + +"Do you mean Mr. Grätz?" + +"Yes; who is Mr. Grätz?" + +"Don't _you_ know him?" she said, astonished. + +"I have never laid eyes on him. Your father recommended to me the +Edmeston Agency and mentioned the name of a Louis Grätz who might be of +use to me. That is all I know." + +"My--_father_--you say?" + +"Certainly, General Baron von Reiter." + +"Oh!... Then it must be quite all right. Only--I don't understand about +my maid----" + +"Did Mr. Grätz tell you she had been arrested?" + +"Yes." + +"On a serious charge?" + +"Yes." + +"Have you any idea what that charge may be?" he asked, studying her +face. + +"I haven't any idea," she said; "have you?" + +"I don't know; perhaps I have. Is your maid German?" + +"Yes." + +"You brought her with you from Germany?" + +"Yes." + +"Where did you get her?" + +"General von Reiter's housekeeper found her for me." + +He hesitated, still looking steadily into those violet blue eyes of hers +which seemed to question him so candidly. No, there could be no +dishonesty there. + +"Miss Girard," he said, "I find that I am going to be very much more +frank with you than there once seemed any occasion for being. I am also +going to say something to you that may possibly offend you. But I can't +help it. It is this: Have you, through your letters to or from your +father, imparted or received any military intelligence which might be +detrimental to Great Britain or to her allies?" + +"Do you mean am I a sort of spy?" she asked, flushing to the roots of +her hair. + +"In substance it amounts to that. And I shall have to ask you to answer +me. And I'll tell you why I ask. I didn't intend to tell you; my +personal and private affairs did not concern you. But they do now. And +these happen to be the facts in my case: I was taken prisoner in Belgium +by the cavalry forming the advance of your father's command. It happened +four days ago; I was sentenced to military execution, led out for that +purpose, reprieved by your father himself on condition that I undertake +to find you and conduct you safely to Trois Fontaines near the Grand +Duchy of Luxembourg. + +"If I am unsuccessful in the undertaking, I am pledged to go back +voluntarily and face a firing squad. If I am successful I am permitted +to go free, and so are my fellow-hostages. And the little town where I +was arrested is to be spared." + +He passed one hand over his eyes, thoughtfully, then, looking at her +very seriously: + +"There seemed to be no reason why an honorable man might not accept such +terms. I accepted them. But--things have happened here which I neither +understand nor like. And I've got to say this to you; if my taking you +back to your father means any detriment to England or to the cause +England represents--in other words, if your returning to him means the +imparting to him of any military information gathered here by you, +then--I won't take you back; that's all!" + +After a moment, half to herself, she said: "He really thinks me a spy. I +knew it!" + +"I _don't_ think so. I am merely asking you!" he retorted impatiently. +"There is something dead wrong here. I was intending to go to the War +Office to tell them there very frankly about my predicament, and to ask +permission to take you back in order to save my fellow-hostages, the +village, and my own life; and now a man named Grätz of whom I know +nothing calls me on the telephone and warns me not to go to the War +Office but to get you out of England as soon as I can do it. + +"What am I to think of this? What does this man Grätz mean when he tells +me that your maid has been arrested on a serious charge and that the +Edmeston Agency of a German automobile is in danger?" + +The girl stood very still with one slender hand resting on her satchel, +her face pale and quietly serious, her brows bent slightly inward as +though she were trying to remember something or to solve some unpleasant +problem not yet plain to her. + +"One thing is clear," she said after a moment, lifting her candid eyes +to his; "and that is, if you don't take me back certain friends of yours +will be executed and a village in which you seem interested will be +destroyed." + +"If taking you back means any harm to England," he said, "I won't take +you." + +"And--your friends? What becomes of them?" + +"My friends and the village must take the same chances that I do." + +"What chances? Do you mean to go back without _me_?" + +"I said I would," he replied drily. + +"You said that if you went back without me they'd execute you." + +"That's what I said. But there's no use in speculating on what is likely +to happen to me if I go back without you. If you don't mind I think we +had better start at once. We have had our warning from this man Grätz." + +He gave her a searching glance, hesitated, then apparently came to an +abrupt conclusion. + +"Miss Girard," he said coolly, "your father once took a good look at me +and then made up his mind about me. And he was not mistaken; I am what +he believes me to be. Now, I also have seen you, and I've made up my +mind concerning you. And I don't expect to be mistaken. So I say to you +frankly I am an enemy to Germany--to your country--and I will not +knowingly aid her--not to save my own skin or the skins of anybody else. +Tell me then have you any military knowledge which you intend to impart +to your father?" + +"No," she said. + +"Have you any suspicion that your maid has been involved in any such +risky business?" + +"I have no knowledge of anything military at all. I don't believe my +maid has, either." + +"You can recall no incident which might lead you to believe that your +maid is engaged in that sort of affair?" + +The girl was silent. He repeated the question. She said: "Anna has +complained of being followed. I have already told you that she and I +have been annoyed by impertinent telephone calls and by strange men +coming here. Do you suppose they were from Scotland Yard?" + +"Possibly. Have you any suspicion why your maid has been arrested?" he +persisted. She hesitated; her straight brows knitted slightly again as +though in a perplexed effort to remember and to understand. Then she +looked up at Guild out of troubled eyes and shook her head: + +"I don't know--I don't _know_--whatever my suspicions may be----" + +"Suspicions!" + +"My personal suspicions could scarcely concern you, Mr. Guild." + +The snub was direct; he reddened. + +"Very well," he said. "What you say gives me a decent chance for life." +He drew a quick breath of relief. "I'm mighty glad," he said; "I +have--have seen men die. It isn't--an--agreeable sight. I think we'd +better go." + +"In a moment." + +She took her satchel and went into another room with it, closing the +intervening door. She was gone only a few seconds. When she returned she +had locked the satchel; he closed and strapped her suit-case and took it +in his hand. Together they descended the stairway and started through +the lower hall. + +And what occurred there happened like lightning. + +For, as he passed the door of the darkened living room, a man jumped out +behind him and threw one arm around his throat, and another man stepped +in front of him and snapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. + +It was not even a struggle; Guild was being held too tightly. The girl +shrank back against the wall, flattening herself against it, staring +dumbly at the proceeding as though stunned. She did not even cry out +when the man who had handcuffed Guild turned on her and caught her by +the elbow. + +"Come along quietly, miss," he began, when suddenly his voice died out +in a groan and he crumpled up on the floor as Bush, the chauffeur, +sprang from the passage-way behind him and struck him with something +short and heavy. + +The man who had thrown his arm around Guild's throat from behind, flung +his handcuffed victim aside and whipped out a revolver, but the +chauffeur knocked it out of his fist and hit him in the face two heavy, +merciless blows, hurling him senseless across the stairs. And all the +while the blond young chauffeur was smiling his fixed and murderous +smile. And he was like a tiger now in every movement as he knelt, +rummaged in the fallen men's pockets, found the key to the handcuffs, +leaned over and unlocked them as Guild held out his manacled hands. + +[Illustration: "The chauffeur hit him ... two heavy, merciless blows, +hurling him senseless across the stairs"] + +"Please watch them, sir," he said cheerfully. "I must find a curtain or +something----" + +He ran into the living-room, ripped off a long blue curtain, tore it +into strips with his powerful blond hands, grinning cheerfully all the +while. + +"Best to tie them up, sir--this way--allow me, sir--this is the better +way--the surer----" + +Guild, working hard, he scarcely knew why, felt a touch on his arm. + +"Are they dead?" whispered Karen Girard unsteadily. + +"No--stunned." + +"Are they robbers?" + +The blond chauffeur looked up, laughed, then rolled a strip of cloth +into a ball for a gag. + +"I'm not entirely sure what they are," said Guild. "I'll tell you what I +think when we're in the car." + +The chauffeur completed his business, looked over the results of his +efforts critically, rose to his feet, still smiling. + +"Now, sir, if you please--and madam--" And he possessed himself of the +luggage. + +"Take the door-key, if you please, sir. Lock it on the outside. Thank +you. This way, if you please, sir. I took it upon myself to bring the +car up to the kitchen entrance." + +The car stood there; the bags were flung in; Karen Girard stepped into +the tonneau; Guild followed. At the same moment a woman appeared, coming +along the brick walk. + +"My maid of all work," exclaimed Karen. "What shall I say to her?" + +"Anything, madam, but send her home," whispered Bush. + +The girl leaned from the car and called out: "I have locked the house +and am going away for the day, Mrs. Bulger. Please come tomorrow, as +usual." + +The woman thanked her, turned and went away again down the brick walk. +They watched her out of sight. + +"Now!" said Guild to the chauffeur, "drive to the Holland steamship +wharf at----" + +"I know, sir," smiled the blond chauffeur. + +Which reply troubled the young man exceedingly, for it was evident to +him now that, if not herself a spy, this young girl in his charge was +watched, surrounded and protected by German agents of a sinister +sort--agents known to her father, in evident communication with him, and +thoroughly informed of the fact that he wanted his daughter to leave +England at once and under the particular escort of Guild. + +Nor had Guild the slightest doubt that the two men who had followed and +handcuffed him were British Government agents, and that if this young +girl's maid had really been arrested for espionage, and if the Edmeston +people, too, were suspected, then suspicion had been also directed +toward Miss Girard and naturally also to him, who was her visitor. + +Guild's troubled gaze rested once more upon the young girl beside him. +At the same moment, as though he had spoken to her she turned and looked +at him out of eyes so honest, so fearless that he had responded aloud +before he realized it: "It's all right. I know _you_ are not deceiving +me." + +"No," she said, "I am not. But could you tell me what all this +means--all this that has happened so swiftly, so terribly----" + +"I have a pretty clear idea what it means.... It's just as well that +those detectives did not arrest me.... Tell me, did you ever before see +this chauffeur, Bush?" + +"Never, Mr. Guild." + +He nodded; he was slowly coming to a definite conclusion concerning the +episode but he kept his own counsel. She said in a low, embarrassed +voice: "You think me cowardly. I know it. But I really didn't know what +to do." + +She was very much in earnest, very intent on his expression, and he did +not dare smile. + +"What _could_ you have done, Miss Girard?" he asked, pleasantly. + +"I don't know. I--I felt as though we--you and I--were allies--and that +I ought to help you. But it all passed too quickly----" + +"There was nothing you could have done for me," he smiled. + +She said reflectively: "I myself don't quite see how I could have helped +matters. But I didn't wish you to believe me afraid to help you." + +He looked into her wistful eyes smilingly: "Somehow," he said, "I don't +believe you are really very much afraid of anything." + +A slight shudder passed over her. "Violence is new to me. I am not very +experienced--not very old you know. And I never saw men fight. And +when"--she lowered her voice--"when that chauffeur struck them so +heavily--so dreadfully--I--I have never seen men fight like that--strike +each other in the face as though they--they meant murder----" + +"Don't think of it now, Miss Girard. You must keep your nerve." He +forced a laugh; "you'll need all your composure, too, because I've got +something to tell you which you won't like. Shall I tell you now?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Then--the man, Grätz, says that you must go aboard that steamer as my +wife." + +The girl looked at him bewildered. "Somebody," continued Guild, "has +taken passage for us as Mr. and Mrs. Kervyn Guild. Grätz warned me. My +name is Kervyn. Yours is Karen. Our initials are alike. If there is any +suspicion directed toward us there are the initials on your satchel and +suit-case--and presumably on your clothing. Do you understand?" + +"Yes." + +"Do you mind?" + +"I mind a little--yes. But I'll do what is necessary," she said, +confused. + +"I think it is necessary. This man Grätz who seems to know more about my +business than I do, tells me so. I believe he is right." + +She raised her tragic eyes to his but said nothing. + +He leaned nearer to her and spoke in a low voice: + +"I've been trying to reason it out," he said, "and I'll tell you what my +conclusion is: A German automobile took me to the British lines under a +white flag. No doubt Government agents had been informed by telegraph +and they followed me as soon as I landed on English soil. + +"At the Berkeley Hotel I felt very sure that I was being watched. Now, +it appears, that this maid of yours has been arrested, and, from what I +suspect in regard to the Edmeston Agency--the agency to which your +father directed me--I feel very certain that somehow your maid has been +involved in the espionage maintained here by the German Government. + +"That chauffeur in front of us is from the Edmeston garage; you see what +he did to those two detectives! It's very plain to me now that, innocent +as you are, you never will be permitted to leave England, even if they +don't arrest you, unless you can get out today with me. + +"And if you don't leave England it means for me something very serious. +It means that I shall have to keep my word and go back alone." + +"I know," she nodded, looking up at him very earnestly. + +He said without the slightest dramatic emphasis: "It really does mean my +death, Miss Girard. I think, knowing your father, that there could be no +possible hope for me if I go back there without you.... And so, knowing +that, I am naturally most anxious to clear out of England while I can do +so--get away from here with you--if I can take you with a clear +conscience. And"--he looked at her, "I feel that I can do that because +you have told me that you have gathered no information for the enemies +of England. And"--he smiled--"to look into your face, Miss Girard, is to +believe you." + +Some of the pretty color faded from her cheeks; she said: "You asked me +if I were a spy. I am not. You asked me if, knowingly, I carry any +military information which might aid the enemies of England. And I +answered you that, knowingly, I do not carry any such information." + +"That is sufficient," he concluded, smilingly. + +"No, it is not sufficient," she said. "I wish to say a little more. Let +me go to Trois Fontaines alone. I am accustomed to travel. There is no +need to involve you. As long as I arrive there what difference does it +make whether or not you accompany me?" + +"I promised to accompany you." + +"You promised that I should arrive safely at Trois Fontaines. It doesn't +matter whether you accompany me. Please--please don't. I had rather you +did not go." + +He said, gravely: "I know how you must feel about travelling as my +wife----" + +"It isn't that." + +"What is it then?" he asked, surprised. + +"I don't wish you to take the risk of travelling with me." + +"What risk? The worst that could happen to you would be your arrest and +detention. If you are not a spy, you can not be proven one." + +Her blue eyes gazed absently out across the sunny landscape through +which they were speeding. + +"You are not a spy," he replied; "what risk do you run--or I?" + +She said, still gazing into the sunlit distance: "What is done to +spies--if they are caught?" + +"It usually means death, Miss Girard." + +"I have--" she swallowed, caught her breath, breathed deeply; then--"I +have heard so.... It is possible that I might be suspected and +detained.... I had rather you did not attempt to go with me.... +Because--I do not wish you to get into any difficulty--on my--account." + +"Nothing serious could happen to either you or me through anything that +you have done." + +"I am not sure." + +"I am," he said. And added in a lower voice: "It is very generous of +you--very kind." + +Her own voice was lower still: "Please don't go with me, Mr. Guild. Let +me go to the wharf alone. Let me take my chances alone. If there is any +difficulty they will arrest you, too. And if I--were convicted----" + +"You could not be. That is utterly impossible. Don't think of such +things, Miss Girard." + +"I _must_ think of them. Will you tell me something?" She turned and +looked at him curiously, almost wistfully. + +"I want to ask you something. You--you said to me that if you thought me +a spy, you would not help me to escape from England. You said so, didn't +you?" + +"Yes." + +"You mean it, don't you?" + +"I am afraid I do." + +"Why? You are not English. You are an American. America is neutral. Why +are you an enemy to Germany?" + +"I can't tell you why," he said. + +"_Are_ you an enemy to Germany?" + +"Yes--a bitter one." + +"And if I were a spy, trying to escape from England--trying to +escape--death--you would refuse to help me?" + +She had turned entirely toward him on the seat beside him; her +child-like hands clasped on the robe over her knees, her child-like +face, pale, sweet, wistful, turned to his. + +"Would you abandon me?" she asked. + +"The situation is impossible----" + +"Yes, but tell me." + +"I don't care to think of such a----" + +"Please answer me. Is your partisanship so bitter that you would wash +your hands of me--let me go to my death?--go to your own, too, rather +than help me?" + +"Miss Girard, you are losing your composure----" + +"No; I am perfectly composed. But I should like to know what you would +do under such circumstances with a girl nineteen years old who stood in +danger of death." + +"I can't tell you," he said, perplexed and impatient. "I can't tell now +what I might do." + +"Would you denounce me?" + +"No, of course not." + +"Would you feel--sorry?" + +"Sorry!" He looked at her; "I should think I would!" + +"Sorry enough for me to help me get away?" + +"Yes." + +"Even if I carried military information to Germany?" + +He looked into her eyes searchingly for a moment. "Yes," he said; "I'd +do what I could for you to get you out of England." + +"Even if I had lied to you?" + +"You couldn't lie to anybody." + +"But if I could? If I have lied and you found it out, would you still +try to help me to get away?" + +"You are asking something that----" + +"Yes, you can answer it. You can think a while first and then answer. I +want you to answer. I want to know what you'd do with me." + +"You make it a personal matter?" + +"Yes. I don't want to know what you'd do in theory; I wish you to tell +me what you, personally, would do with me, Karen Girard, if you believed +me to be a spy, and if you came to the conclusion that I had lied to +you." + +"Why do you ask all this? You are over-wrought, unstrung----" + +"I am absolutely mistress of myself. And I wish to know what you would +do with _me_? Would you let me die?" + +"No." + +"You'd stand by me still?" + +"Yes. There's no use mincing matters. Yes, I would." + +"You'd help me to leave England?" + +"Yes." + +"Why?" + +There fell a silence between them, and his face slowly reddened. + +"I am not sure why," he said slowly. + +"I am. Shall I tell you?" + +"Yes, tell me," he said, forcing himself to meet her clear gaze. + +"Very well, I'll tell you. It is because we are friends. And that is the +real truth. I realize it. From the very beginning it was a friendship, +without effort, instantly and mutually understood. Is it not true?" + +"Yes." + +"And that--the instant liking--was the basis for our confidence in each +other. Was it not?" + +"It must have been. I trusted you without hesitation." + +"And I you.... And I did tell you the truth.... But not all of it." + +"What have you left untold?" he asked. + +"Enough to--to frighten me--a little. I am beginning to be afraid--just +enough afraid to feel troubled--rather deeply troubled about--you." + +"About _me_!" + +"Because--we are friends. I don't understand how it has happened so +quickly. But it has happened to us--hasn't it?" + +"Yes," he said, "it has. I--I am already--devoted to--our friendship." + +"I am, too. It seems odd, doesn't it. I have had no friends among men. +This is new to me. I don't know what to do about it. I want to be so +loyal about it--I wish to be what a man--such a man as you are--desires +of a friend--what he requires of friendship.... _Do_ you understand? I +am really a trifle bewildered--with the surprise and pleasure of +friendship--and with its obligations.... But I am very sure that +unselfishness is one of its obligations and that truth is another." + +"Both are part of you." + +"They seem to be now. And so--because we are friends--don't go to the +wharf with me. Because I think I may be--arrested. And if I am--it may +go hard with me." + +She said it so gently, and her eyes were so clear and sweet that for a +moment he did not grasp the subtler significance of her appeal. + +"You _can't_ be involved seriously," he insisted. + +"I'm afraid it is possible." + +"How?" + +"I can only guess how. I may be wrong. But I dare not risk involving +you." + +"Can't you tell me a little more?" + +"Please don't ask." + +"Very well. But I shall not leave you." + +"Please." + +"No. You ask too little of friendship." + +"I do not wish to ask too much. Let me get clear of this affair if I +can. If I can't--let me at least remember that I have not involved you +in my--ruin." + +"Your ruin!" + +"Yes. It may come to that. I don't know. I don't know exactly what all +this tangle means--what really threatens me, what I have to dread. But I +am afraid--afraid!" Her voice became unsteady for a moment and she +stared straight ahead of her at the yellow haze which loomed nearer and +nearer above the suburbs of London. + +He slipped one arm under hers, quietly, and his hand fell over both of +hers, where they rested clasped tightly on her lap. + +"This won't do," he said coolly. "You are not to be frightened whatever +happens. We must go through with this affair, you and I. I know you have +plenty of courage." + +"Yes--except about you----" + +"I stand or fall with you." + +"Please, you must not----" + +"I must and shall. Within the next few minutes you must regain your +composure and self-command. Will you?" + +"Yes." + +"Because our safety may depend on your coolness." + +"I know it." + +"Will you remember that we are married?" + +"Yes." + +"Will it be difficult for you to carry out that rôle?" + +"I--don't know what to do. Could you tell me?" + +"Yes. If you speak to me call me by my first name. Do you remember it?" + +"Kervyn," she said. + +"You won't forget?" + +"No." + +"I think you had better say 'no, dear.' Try it." + +"No--dear." + +"Try it again." + +"No, dear." + +"Letter perfect," he said, trying to speak lightly. "You see you look +about seventeen, and it's plain we couldn't have been married very long. +So it's safer to say 'yes, dear,' and 'no, dear,' every time. You won't +forget, Karen, will you?" + +She flushed a trifle when her name fell from his lips. "No, dear," she +said in a low voice. + +"And if anybody addresses you as Mrs. Guild--will you try to be +prepared?" + +"Yes--dear. Yes, I will--Kervyn." + +He laughed a trifle excitedly. "You are perfect--and really adorable in +the part," he said. And his nervous excitement in the imminence of +mutual danger subtly excited her. + +"I ought to do it well," she said; "I have studied dramatic art and I +have had some stage experience. It's a part and I _must_ do it well. I +shall, really--Kervyn, dear." + +He laughed; the dangerous game was beginning to exhilarate them both, +and a vivid colour began to burn in her delicate cheeks. + +Suddenly the blond chauffeur pulled the car up along the curb in a +crowded street and stopped. + +"It is better, sir, to take a hansom from here to the wharf." + +"Do you think so?" + +"Yes, sir.... Pardon, sir, here are passports for madam and yourself." +And he handed the papers very coolly to Guild. + +The young man changed colour, realizing instantly that the papers were +forged. + +"Had I better take these?" he asked under his breath. + +"Yes, sir," said Bush, smiling his eternal smile and opening the car +door for them. + +Guild descended. Bush set the luggage on the curb, touched his cap, and +said: "Walk south, sir, until a cabby hails you. Good-bye, sir. A +pleasant trip, madam." And he sprang back into the car, started it, and +rolled away grinning from ear to ear. + +Guild took the luggage in both hands; Karen walked beside him. At the +end of the square the driver of a hansom held up one hand inquiringly, +then smiled and drew in to the curb. + +"Fresh Wharf, sir?" asked the cabby. + +"Yes," said Guild, calmly, red with surprise. + +"Thanks, sir. I understand all about it." + + + + + CHAPTER VII + + THE SATCHEL + + +It was only a short drive to Fresh Wharf by London Bridge. A marching +column of kilted Territorials checked them for a while and they looked +on while the advanced guard of civilians surged by, followed by pipers +and then by the long leaf-brown column at a smart swinging stride. + +When the troops had passed the hansom moved on very slowly through the +human flotsam still eddying in the wake of the regiment; and after a few +more minutes it pulled up again and Guild sprang out, lifted the young +girl to the sidewalk, and handed the fare to the driver. + +The latter leaned over and as he took the coins he thrust a parcel into +Guild's hands. "Your change, sir," he said genially, touched his top hat +and drove off, looking right and left for another fare. + +Guild's surprised eyes fell on the packet. It contained two steamer +tickets strapped together by a rubber band. + +Pushing through the throng where policemen, wharf officials and soldiers +in khaki were as numerous as civilians, Guild finally signalled a porter +to take the luggage aboard. Karen retained her satchel. A brief scrutiny +of his tickets detained them for a moment, then the porter led them up +the gang-plank and aboard and a steward directed them to their +stateroom. At the same moment a uniformed official stepped up to Guild. + +"Sorry to trouble you, sir," he said politely, "but may I have your +name?" + +"My name is Kervyn Guild." + +The official glanced over the steamer list. "You have papers of +identification, Mr. Guild?" + +Guild handed him his forged passports. The official took them, glanced +at Karen, at the luggage which the porter bore. + +"Where do you go from Amsterdam, Mr. Guild?" + +"Through Holland." + +"Naturally. And then?" + +"To the Grand Duchy." + +"Luxembourg?" + +"Yes." + +"Where in Luxembourg?" + +"I have been invited to visit friends." + +"Where?" + +"At Lesse Forest." + +"Where is that?" + +"Partly in the Duchy, partly in Belgium." + +"Who are your friends?" + +"Mrs. and Miss Courland of New York and a Mr. Darrel." + +"Madam goes with you?" + +"Yes." + +The official began to unfold the passports, while he looked sideways at +the luggage. Holding the passports partly open in one hand he pointed to +Karen's satchel with the other. + +"Please open that," he said, and began to examine the passports. A +deadly pallour came over the girl's face; she did not stir. Guild turned +to glance at her and was stricken dumb. But she found her speech. +"Dear," she said, with white lips, "would you mind stepping ashore and +getting me something at a chemist's?" And under her breath, pressing +close to him: "Go, for God's sake. I am afraid I shall be arrested." A +terrible fear struck through him. + +"The satchel!" he motioned with his lips. + +"Yes. Go while you can. Go--go--dear." + +"I'll be back in a moment, Karen," he said, coolly took the satchel from +the porter, turned with it toward the gang-plank. + +The official raised his eyes from the passport he was scanning. + +"One moment, sir," he said. + +"I'll be back directly," returned Guild, continuing on his way. + +"Where are you going, Mr. Guild?" + +"To a chemist's." + +"Be kind enough to leave that satchel and remain here until I have +finished," said the official coldly. And to Karen: "Mrs. Guild, will you +kindly open that bag?" + +"Certainly. I have the key somewhere"--searching in her reticule. And as +she searched she lifted her eyes to Guild. Her face was dead white. + +"Dearest," she said in a steady voice, "will you go to the chemist's +while I am opening my bag. I _must_ have something for this headache." + +Her agonized eyes said: "Save yourself while you can; I am caught!" + +But Guild turned and came back to her, close, standing beside her. + +"I'll open the luggage," he said quietly. "You had better step ashore +and get what you need." And, in a whisper: "Go straight to the American +Ambassador and tell him everything." + +She whispered: "No; I beg of you go. I beg of you, Kervyn." + +He shook his head and they stood there together; he grave and silent, +assailed by a terrible premonition; she white as death, mechanically +fumbling in her reticule with slim, childish fingers. + +The official was deeply immersed in the passports and continued so even +when Karen's tremulous fingers held the key. "Give it to me," whispered +Guild. + +"No--" She beckoned the porter, took the satchel, and at the same moment +the official looked up at her, then holding both passports, came over to +where they were standing. + +"Your papers are in order, Mr. Guild," he said. "Now, Mrs. Guild, if you +will open your satchel----" + +"I'll attend to that, Holden," broke in a careless voice, and the +satchel was taken out of Karen's hands by a short, dark young man in +uniform. "I want you to go forward and look at a gentleman for The Hague +who has no papers. He's listed as Begley. Do you mind?" + +"Right," said Holden. "Here, Mitchell, these papers are satisfactory. +Look over Mr. Guild's luggage and come forward when you're finished. +What's his name? Begley?" + +"Yes, American. I'll be with you in a moment." + +Holden hastened forward; Mitchell looked after him for a moment, then +calmly handed back the unopened satchel to Karen and while she held it +he made a mark on it with a bit of chalk. + +"I pass your luggage," he said in a low voice, stooping and marking the +suit-case and Guild's sack. "You have nothing to fear at Amsterdam, but +there are spies on this steamer. Best go to your cabin and stay there +until the boat docks." + +The girl bent her little head in silence; the porter resumed the luggage +and piloted them aft through an ill-lighted corridor. When he came to +the door of their cabin he called a steward, took his tip from Guild, +touched his cap and went away. + +The steward opened the stateroom door for them, set the luggage on the +lounge, asked if there was anything more he could do, was told that +there was not, and took himself off. + +Guild locked the door after him, turned and looked down at the girl, who +had sunk trembling upon the lounge. + +"What is there in that satchel?" he asked coldly. + +"I don't know." + +"_What!_" he said in a contemptuous voice. + +"Kervyn--my friend--I do not know," she stammered. + +"You _must_ know! You packed it!" + +"Yes. But I do not know. Can't you believe me?" + +"How can I? You know what you put into that satchel, don't you?" + +"I--put in toilet articles--night clothes--money." + +"What else? You put in something else, didn't you? Something that has +made you horribly afraid!" + +"Yes." + +"What is it?" + +"Kervyn--I don't _know_ what it is. I must not know. It is a matter of +honour." + +"If you don't know what it is you carry in that satchel you evidently +suspect what it might prove to be." + +"Yes." + +"You have very strong suspicions?" + +"Yes, I have." + +"Why did you take such a thing?" + +"I promised." + +"Whom?" + +"I can't tell you. It is a matter of honour. I--I didn't want to involve +you if things turned badly. I asked you to leave me.... Even at the last +moment I tried to give you a chance to go ashore and escape. Kervyn, +I've tried to be honourable and to be loyal to you at the same time. +I've tried--I've tried--" Her childish voice faltered, almost broke, and +she turned her head sharply away from him. + +He dropped onto the lounge beside her, sick with anxiety, and laid his +hand over hers where it lay in her lap. + +"I'm afraid that you have papers in that satchel which might mean the +end of the world for you," he said under his breath. "God alone knows +why you carry them if you suspect their contents.... Well, I won't ask +you anything more at present.... If your conscience acquits you, I do. I +do anyway. You have given me plenty of chances to escape. You have been +very plucky, very generous to me, Karen." + +"I have tried to be," she said unsteadily. "You have been far too kind +to me, Kervyn.... I--I don't mean to tremble so. I think I am, feeling +the--the reaction." + +"Lie down. I am afraid I'll have to stay here----" + +"Yes; don't go out on deck. Don't take any more risks.... I'll lie down +if I may." She rose, looked around with eyes still darkly dilated by +fear: + +"Oh!" she breathed--"if we were only out of British waters!" + +He looked at his watch, and at the same moment a deep blast from the +steamer vibrated through the cabin. + +"They've cast off," he said calmly. + +The girl had flung herself on the bed and buried her face in the pillow. +Her brown velvet hat had fallen to the floor, her thick brown hair +clustered in glossy disorder over neck and cheek. One slim hand clutched +convulsively a tiny handkerchief crushed into a ball. + +"We have every chance now," he said very gently, bending over the +pillow--"barring a wireless to some British guard-ship. Don't give way +yet, Karen." He laid a cool, firm hand over hers and tried to speak +jestingly. "Wait until there's no danger at all before you go all to +pieces," he whispered. + +As he bent above her, he became conscious of the warm fragrance of +tears. But no sound came, not a quiver. And after a while he went over +to the sofa and sat down, staring at the locked satchel on the floor, +vaguely aware that the boat was in steady motion. + +"Karen," he said after a moment. + +"Yes--dear." + +"You know," he said, forcing a laugh, "you needn't say it when we're +alone--except for practice." + +"Yes, dear, I know." + +"May I ask you something?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Did you know that official named Mitchell?" + +"Yes." + +"Who was he?" + +"Mr. Grätz." + + + + + CHAPTER VIII + + AT SEA + + +The funnel smoke blew low, burying the afterdecks, and a hurricane of +scud and spindrift swept everything forward, drenching the plunging +steamer to the bridge. Stanchions, davits, hatches were all a-dip, decks +a-wash, and the Dutch ensign whipping aloft in a thick grey sky that +seemed to speed astern as though in chase of the heaving grey waste of +waters that fled away beneath. + +Here and there a trawler tossed and rocked; lean, melancholy wanderers +on the face of the waters; twice the raking stacks of destroyers, +smothered in foam, dashed eastward running full speed on some occult +trail twixt sky and sea. + +The grey world grew duller, duller; one by one the blinding searchlights +on coast-guard ships broke out, sweeping sky and ocean as though in +desperate appeal to the God above and in menacing warning to the devils +that lurked below. + +For they said the North Sea was full of them; legions of them tossed +broadcast from the black hell of some human mind. And beneath them, +deeper, lying as still as death on the Channel's floor, waited the human +submarines in unseen watery depths--motionless, patient, awaiting the +moment to strike. + +Night came; the white level glare of searchlights flooded the steamer, +lingered, shifted, tossed their dazzling arms heavenward as though +imploring the Most High, then swept unseen horizons where the outermost +waters curve with the curving globe. + + * * * * * + +Only one light burned in the stateroom, but the port was not covered. + +Karen lay on the bed, unstirring save for a slight tremor of her +shoulders now and then. Her brown hair, half loosened, had fallen in +thick burnished curls on the pillow; one hand covered her eyes, palm +outward. Under it the vivid lips, scarcely parted, rested on each other +in a troubled curve. + +Guild brooded silently on the lounge under the port. Sometimes his +sombre gaze rested on her, sometimes on the locked satchel which had +rolled to the side of the bed. + +Every time the arrowy beam of light from a warship flooded the cabin +with swift white splendour his heart seemed to stop, for the menace of +the wireless was always a living dread; and the stopping of a neutral +ship and the taking from it of suspects had become a practice too common +even to excite comment, let alone protest. + +Twice they were stopped; twice Ardoise signals twinkled; but no cutter +came alongside, and no officer boarded them. It was an eternity of +suspense to Guild, and he stood by the open port, listening, the satchel +in his hand ready to fling it out into the turmoil of heaving waters. + +The steward came, and Guild ordered something served for them both in +the stateroom. Karen had not awakened, but her hand had slipped from her +eyes and it lay across the edge of the bed. + +On the bridal finger glimmered the plain gold band--his credentials to +her from her father. + +He went over and looked down into the white, childish face. Faultless, +serene, wonderful as a flower it seemed to him. Where the black lashes +rested the curve of the cheek was faintly tinted with colour. All else +was snowy save for the vivid rose of the scarcely parted lips. + +Nineteen!--and all those accomplishments which her dim living-room at +Westheath had partly revealed--where books in many languages had +silently exposed the mind that required them--where pictures, music--all +the unstudied and charming disorder of this young girl's intimate +habitation had delicately revealed its tenant. + +And what her living-room had foreshadowed was only, after all, but a +tinted phantom of the girl he had come to know in the flesh--the real +mistress of that dim room quickened to life--a warm, living, breathing +reality, low-voiced, blue-eyed, winsome and sweet with the vague +fragrance of youth incarnate clinging to her, to every gesture, every +movement, every turn of her head--to her very skirts it seemed--youth, +freshness, purity unblemished. + +As he stood there he tried to realize that she was German--this young +girl with her low and charming English voice and her accentless English +speech. + +He had listened in vain for any flaw, any indication of alien birth. +Nothing betrayed her as a foreigner, except, possibly, a delightfully +quaint formality in accepting any service offered. For when he asked her +whether she desired this or that, or if he might do this or that for +her, always her answer in the affirmative was, "Yes, please," like a +little girl who had been carefully taught to respect age. It amused him; +for modern English young women are less punctilious with modern youth. + +There came a dull clatter of crockery from the passageway; Guild turned +and opened the door. The waiter produced a folding table, spread it, and +arranged the dishes. + +"That will be all," whispered Guild. "Don't knock again; I'll set the +tray outside." + +So the waiter went away and Guild closed the door again and turned back +to the bed where Karen lay. Her delicate brows were now slightly knitted +and the troubled curve of her lips hinted again of a slumber not wholly +undisturbed by subconscious apprehension. + +"Karen," he said in a low voice. + +The girl opened her eyes. They had that starry freshness that one sees +in the eyes of waking children. For a moment her confused gaze met his +without expression, then a hot flush stained her face and she sat up +hurriedly. Down tumbled the thick, burnished locks and her hands flew +instinctively to twist them up. + +"I didn't realize that I had been asleep. Please, will you turn your +back"--her glance fell on the table--"I shall be ready in a +moment--Kervyn." + +"Had I not better give you the place to yourself?" + +"Yes, please." + +"I'll do a sentry-go in the corridor," he said. "Open the door when +you're quite ready." + +So he went out and walked up and down until the stateroom door opened +and her low voice summoned him. + +"I can't eat," she said. + +"Do you feel the sea?" + +"No"--she smiled faintly--"but the excitement of the day--the +anxiety----" + +"We'll have some tea, anyway," he said. + +They ate a little after all, and the hot and rather vile tea stimulated +her. Presently he set tray and table outside in the corridor and came +slowly back to where she had gathered herself in a corner of the sofa. + +"The sea is rather rough," he said. "You seem to be a good sailor." + +"Yes, I am. My father had a yacht and my mother and I always went when +he cruised." + +This slightest glimpse of personal history--the first she had +vouchsafed--the first slight lifting of the curtain which hung between +them, aroused his latent curiosity. + +What else lay behind that delicate, opaque veil which covered the +nineteen years of her? What had been the childhood, the earlier life of +this young girl whom he had found living alone with a maid and a single +servant at an obscure heath outside of London? + +Gently born, gently bred young girls of aristocratic precedents, don't +do that sort of thing. Even if they desire to try it, they are not +permitted. Also they don't go on the stage, as a rule. + +Neither the sign manual, the sign visible of the theatre, nor yet that +occult indefinable something characteristic of the footlights appeared +to taint her personality. + +Talented as she was undoubtedly, cultured and gently nurtured, the sum +total of all her experience, her schooling, her development, and her art +had resulted only in a charming harmony, not a personality aggressively +accented in any single particular. Any drawing-room in any country might +have contained this young girl. Homes which possess drawing-rooms breed +the self-possession, the serenity, the soft voice, the winsome candour +and directness of such girls as she. + +She was curled up in the corner of the sofa where he had placed behind +her the two pillows from the bed, and her winning blue eyes rested every +few minutes upon this young man whom she had known only a few hours and +whom she already, in her heart and in her mind, was calling a friend. + +She had never had any among young men--never even among older men had +she experienced the quiet security, the untroubled certainty of such a +friendship as had begun now--as had suddenly stepped into her life, new, +yet strangely familiar--a friendship that seemed instantly fully +developed and satisfactory. + +There appeared to be no room for doubt about it, no occasion for +waiting, no uncertainty in her mind, no inclination and no thought of +the lesser conventionalities which must strew elaborately the path of +first acquaintance with the old, old-fashioned garlands--those prim, +stiff blossoms of discretion, of propriety, of self-conscious concession +to formula and tradition. + +No; when her eyes first fell on him her mind and heart seemed to +recognize what neither had ever before beheld--a friend. And from that +moment the girl had accepted the matter as settled, as far as she +herself was concerned. And she had lost very little time in acquainting +herself with his views upon the subject. + +That he had responded to the friendship she had so naïvely offered did +not surprise her. She seemed to have expected it--perhaps in the peril +of the moments when they were nearing London and doubt and suspicion in +her mind concerning the contents of her satchel were becoming an agony +to her as they grew more definite--perhaps even then the sudden and deep +sense of gratitude for his response had made courage a new necessity and +had armoured her against panic--for friendship's sake. + +All she realized in that moment was that this friendship, so sudden, so +vital, was already so strong in her, so real, that even in the terror of +that instant she thought of the danger to him, and asked him to let her +go on alone. + +Perhaps they both were thinking of these things--she, curled up in her +corner, looking thoughtfully at him; he, knees crossed, gazing +restlessly from object to object in the unsteady stateroom, but his eyes +always reverting to her. + +Then the duet of silence ended for a while. He said: "You must not +suppose that I am not keenly alive to the kindness, the fearless +generosity you have shown me all through this affair. What you suffered +is lodged forever in my mind--and in my heart." + +"What you have done for me is in my--heart," she said in her sweetly +modulated voice. + +"I have done very little----" + +"You would not leave me!" + +"My own life was forfeit if I did----" + +"No! You did not reason that way! Besides, had I managed to get through +alone, you should have had your life back again to do with as you +pleased. No; you did not reason that way. You stood by a friend in +peril--at your own peril." + +She drew a deep, tremulous breath. "More than that," she said, "you +stood by me when you almost believed I had lied to you--lied +shamefully." + +"I had my plans ready--in that event," he said, forcing a laugh. + +"You _did_ doubt me?" + +"Yes." + +She bent her head, looked thoughtfully at her hands, which clasped one +knee, then, lifting her eyes: "I forgive you," she said gravely. + +He flushed: "I did not know you--did not realize--what you are----" + +"You were slower than I." + +"What?" + +"I trusted _you_--from the first." + +He was silent; she watched him for a few moments, then: + +"When you concluded that I had lied to you, what plans had you ready?" + +"I had rather not say----" + +"Please do." + +He bit his lip: "I had decided to take your satchel from you." + +"Against my wishes?" she asked, amazed. + +"Yes." + +There was no resentment, only a childish surprise: "Why?" + +"I told you that I am an enemy to your country." + +"Yes, I know----" + +"I told you that I would not knowingly permit you to take out of England +anything which might be detrimental to England's interests. And I made +up my mind that if you had deceived me--and although I stood by +you--because you are only a young girl--and were in danger from those +who make no allowance for youth and sex--nevertheless, as soon as you +were in personal safety, I meant to take from you whatever you had +concealed from me and which might have been of service to England's +enemies." + +"Would you have done that?" + +"Yes, if you had been untruthful to me." + +She bent her head, thoughtfully; then looking up at him: "Yes; that +would have been just.... But I have not been untruthful." + +His perplexed and slightly careworn eyes met hers. + +"I can't doubt you," he said. "I know you have been truthful. But--what +_is_ in that satchel? Forgive me, I _must_ ask you. Because there is +evidently enough there to terrify you at the thought of British eyes +inspecting it." + +"Kervyn--can't you believe me when I tell you that I don't _know_ what +is in that satchel?" + +"I _do_ believe you. But tell me what you are afraid it might be." + +"I can't--truly I can't tell you. Don't you understand? Don't you +realize that I must have promised?" + +"Promised?" + +"Yes--not to unlock or open the satchel. I _did_ promise." + +"To whom did you make that promise?" And, as she did not reply: "Was the +promise made to anybody I ever met?" + +She looked at him in a distressed way, but his face darkened and his +determination increased. + +"Did you make that promise to a German? An officer? Did you make it to +General von Reiter?" + +"Yes." + +"I see. And there _are_ papers in that satchel!" + +"Yes." + +"Where did you get them?" + +"From--Mr. Grätz." + +"You were accustomed to receive papers from Mr. Grätz?" + +"Sometimes." + +"At certain intervals?" + +"I don't know. Whenever Mr. Grätz telephoned, Anna, my maid, went to +London and usually brought back the--the plans." + +"Plans!" + +"Yes. I understood that they were plans of a new automobile which was +being designed by the Edmeston Agency for their Berlin branch. Mr. Grätz +mentioned it as the Bauer-Schroeder car." + +"To whom were these plans to go, ultimately?" + +"I sent them to New York." + +"To whom?" + +"To Schimmel and Company, Broadway." + +"Have you any idea where Schimmel and Company sent those plans?" + +"Yes. I never thought much about it then, but today I realized that +sooner or later the plans were sent to General von Reiter--in Berlin." + +"You are sure?" + +"Yes. I saw them when I was there last April. He said that those were +the plans which I had sent to Schimmel and Company." + +"You _saw_ the plans?" + +"Yes." + +"Were they plans of an automobile?" + +"I--thought so then. They were on very thin paper. I supposed them to be +drawings of detached machinery in sections. They looked to me like +fragments of something." + +"And now--in the light of what happened today--what do you believe those +drawings represented?" + +"I have no idea--really I haven't. Only--" She hesitated, troubled, +twisting her fingers on her knees. + +"Only--" he prompted her. + +She said, with a tremulous intake of breath: "I think I had better tell +you, Kervyn. This is what frightened me--what the experience of today +seemed to suddenly make plain to me--I mean your coming to Westheath, +Mr. Grätz telephoning about obeying you, and informing me of the arrest +of my maid--these things, and the war, and what I have read about German +spies in England--all this flashed up in my mind at the same time when +you turned from the telephone and asked me such terrible questions. + +"It made clear to me, or seemed to, something else that I had not +understood at the time--" She hesitated, her gaze concentrated as though +in an effort to recollect and visualize some scene-- + +"It was last April, in Berlin.... General Baron von Reiter said +something to me as I was waiting for his car to take me to the +station--I was departing for England again--and he said--he said----" + +"Yes, Karen?" + +"He said something about war--the possibility of it. And he said that in +case war ever came while I was in England, and if, when it came, I had +in my possession any automobile plans from the Edmeston Agency--from Mr. +Grätz--that I was to bring them with me to Germany--not to show them to +anybody, not to send them by mail, but to bring them back and deliver +them to him." + +"Yes, Karen." + +"I promised.... He made me promise again. He was very serious. He said +that on my obedience in this matter might depend the lives of many +people. I had no idea what he meant by that--until today.... And what I +fear has happened is that Anna, who went yesterday to London because Mr. +Grätz telephoned, was arrested while in possession of papers delivered +to her by Mr. Grätz.... And that these papers were _not_ what I had +always supposed. And that is why I was suddenly afraid--afraid--Oh, +Kervyn!--I cannot describe the fear that leaped up and seized me when +you asked me those dreadful questions! Suddenly everything, every detail +in the entire matter seemed to grow clear and terrible to me.... I--I +went into my dressing-room--and steadied myself against the +wall--feeling faint for a moment. + +"Then I took from my dressing-table the papers which I had from Anna's +last visit to Mr. Grätz. They had remained there in the drawer because I +had been told not to mail them, and no word had come for me to go back +to Berlin. So I had them on my hands. But until you came I gave them no +thought--merely conscious that I had promised to take them back with me. + +"But--in that terrible moment when I stood there leaning against the +wall, I remembered what was said to me about the lives of many people +depending upon my keeping my promise. It was a hideous thing to remember +at such a time.... But I could not break my word--for the sake of these +imperilled people also--could I, Kervyn?... So I took the papers and +locked them in my satchel. And afterward I--I _asked_ you to leave--" +Her voice quivered; she bent her head and sat twisting her slim fingers +on her lap. + +"That is all I know," she faltered--"all I know about it. I have tried +to be true to my word, and loyal to--you." + +Her emotion was reflected in his own face; he bent forward, laid his +hand over her restless fingers. + +"Karen," he said, "you are the pluckiest, straightest, whitest woman I +ever knew." + +"I'm only--honest," she whispered.... "And I want you to think me so." + +"I do!--Karen, dearest, sincerest, most fearless of women!" + +"Do you believe me--that?" + +"Karen, I----" + +A sharp knocking at the door cut him short. They looked at each other, +startled. At the same moment he realized that the ship had stopped. + +"Could it be the stewardess?" she whispered. + +"I don't know." + +He rose, picked up the satchel and went to the open port. + +"If a British guard-ship has stopped us to search us, we can't have this +thing found," he said. + +She stared at him in frightened silence. + +"They may have found those men we tied up and left in your house at +Westheath!" he whispered. "A wireless would set a score of warships +ready to intercept us. If they board us they must not find that +satchel." + +The sharp, loud rapping came again. + +Guild went to the open port, pushed the satchel through it, leaned out +himself. As he did so something brushed his head, and, looking up, he +saw a rope's end dangling there. + +In an instant he had tied it to the handle of the satchel, stepped back, +screwed the heavy glass fast, and then, motioning Karen to fling herself +on the bed, he went to the door, opened it, and stood yawning in the +face of a ship's officer. + +"Don't wake my wife," he said drowsily. "What is the trouble?" + +"The trouble is," replied the officer coldly, "that a British cruiser +has signalled us to stop, and has asked whether an American named Guild +is aboard." + + + + + CHAPTER IX + + H. M. S. WYVERN + + +"Well," said Guild coolly, "have you any idea what a casual British +cruiser might want of _me_?" + +"I have not," said the officer, "so perhaps you had better tell _me_ +what is wanted of yourself and your wife by the captain of that warship. +It might save some argument between him and our own captain. We are due +in Amsterdam at noon tomorrow," he added meaningly. + +"Do you mean to say that the officer in command of this British ship +desires to speak to my wife?" + +"His signals stopped us and his wireless told us to detain you and your +wife." + +"What ship is it?" demanded the young man, so nervous now that he +scarcely knew what he was saying. + +The Dutch officer remained icy and precise: "The ship is the light +cruiser _Wyvern_, of the 'Monster' class. Her consorts yonder are the +_Hippogriff_ and _Basalisk_--if this information enlightens you, Mr. +Guild." + +"It does not. But I know this much: You can't detain an American! +Neither can that British captain take a neutral from a neutral ship! And +that settles the matter." + +"Be good enough to come on deck," said the Hollander in his correct and +fluent English. "The captain desires to speak with you." + +"Very well. I'll follow you in a moment"--and turning to Karen: +"Dearest, are you awake?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"The captain wishes to see me. I'll be back directly." He stepped out +into the corridor, hesitated, excused himself to the officer, and +returned to Karen, closing the door and locking it. + +She was sitting up on the bed, very still and white, and when he came +over to her she instinctively laid both chilled hands in his. He held +them in a firm and reassuring clasp; but he was terribly disconcerted. + +"Listen, dear. I think a British officer is coming aboard for us. I +don't know whether he has any right to take us off this ship, but I'm +afraid that the law in the matter won't worry him. + +"Now listen to me, dear. If I come back and knock and call to you by +name, open. If somebody knocks, and there is no voice--or if it is not +my voice, go to that port, open it, untie your satchel, which is hanging +outside at a rope's end, take out the papers, and drop them into the +sea. And not until you have done this shall you open the door to +anybody." + +"Yes, Kervyn." + +"Then," he said, "if we've got to go back to England on a warship, we'll +go clean-handed." + +"Yes." + +"And you had better take these passports, too." He drew them from his +breast pocket. "They're forged. Throw them out with the other papers." + +"Yes, I will." + +"Then--I'm going.... Don't worry--dear. Don't tremble so, Karen--dear +Karen----" + +"I'll try not to. I'll not be cowardly. It--it has been a long--day.... +I'm thinking of Anna, too. You know, if she had any papers, she was +bringing them to me. That will be against me." + +"I forgot that," he said, appalled. Then he squared his shoulders and +forced a smile: "Anyway, whatever faces you faces us _both_!... +Dear--keep every atom of courage you have. I shall stand by you, always. +But I must go now. Do you promise me to keep up courage?" + +"Yes--dear----" + +They were excited, their every nerve now stretched to the breaking, yet +both were striving for self-control in the instant menace of this new +peril confronting them. Neither knew just what they said or did; he bent +over her; she lifted her face to his, closing her eyes as his lips +touched her forehead. Then he went away swiftly, and she sprang to the +floor and locked the stateroom door. The next moment the awful flare of +a searchlight turned the room to a pit of silvery fire, and she cringed +against the bed under the fierce white glory, covering her bloodless +face with both hands. + +On deck, the Dutch captain, who was awaiting Guild at the companionway, +came forward hastily and drew him aside. + +"They've boarded us already," he said; "there comes their lieutenant +over the side. Tell me, Mr. Guild, are your papers in order and your +conscience clear? Can I make a fight over this affair?" + +"I have no papers, but my conscience is in order. Don't let them take us +if you can help it." + +"You have no papers?" + +"None that can help me or my wife." + +"Then it's no use fighting." + +"Fight all the same!" whispered Guild, as they both turned to meet the +young naval officer who had just stepped aboard. He and the Dutch +captain exchanged civilities stiffly, then Guild stepped forward into +the lantern light. + +"Kervyn Guild!" exclaimed the slim young officer in surprise. "Is it +_you_!" + +"Jamison!" ejaculated Guild, astonished. "Well this is lucky! I'm +tremendously glad! I am indeed!" + +They exchanged a warm impulsive hand-clasp, smiled at each other--then +the quick smile on the youthful lieutenant's features altered, and his +face fell. + +"Guild," he said soberly, "I am afraid I shall have to inconvenience you +and--your wife. I'm afraid I shall have to ask you to come aboard the +_Wyvern_ with me. I'm sorry; I know it must inconvenience you +fearfully----" + +"Jamison! We _can't_ go aboard your ship! What on earth are you thinking +of?" + +"Orders," returned the young fellow gravely. "I've no discretion, you +see." + +As by common consent they had stepped aside from the group of ships' +officers and, standing in the shadow of a lifeboat, they now gazed at +each other very seriously. + +Guild said: "There must be some mistake about this. I have no wife on +board this boat." + +"Did you not board this boat in company with your wife?" asked Jamison +in a low voice. + +"No." + +"Our information is otherwise." + +"Jamison, you know whether I am likely to lie to you. And I say to you +on my word of honour that I did not come aboard this boat with my wife." + +"Is she not on board?" + +"She is not." + +Jamison said regretfully: "No good, old fellow. We know she is not your +wife. But we want her. I think you had better prepare her to come with +us." + +"Jamison, will you listen to me and believe me?" + +"Yes, of course." + +"Then, on my word of honour, the woman you have come to take from this +ship is absolutely innocent of any--intentional--crime." + +"I take your word for it, Guild." + +"You can guess _my_ sentiments in regard to this war, can't you?" +insisted Guild. + +"I think I can." + +"Then listen, Jamison. I pledge you my word that through this young +girl, and through me, nothing shall ever happen that could in any manner +be detrimental to your country or its allies. Don't press this matter, +for God's sake!" + +"Guild," he said quietly, "I believe you absolutely. But--both you and +this young lady must come aboard the _Wyvern_ with me. Those are my +orders, old fellow. I can't go back on them; I have no discretion in +this matter. You know that, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +After a silence, Guild linked his arm in the gold-laced arm of his +old-time friend and walked back to where the captain stood fidgeting. + +"I won't go, Jamison," he said, loudly but pleasantly. "I am not obliged +to go aboard your ship. Captain Vandervelde, I claim the protection of +your flag for myself and for my wife." + +"Captain Vandervelde knows that it means only trouble for him," said +Jamison, forcing a smile. "He is not likely to defy the _Wyvern_, I +think." + +They all turned in the sudden glitter of the _Wyvern's_ searchlight and +gazed across the darkness where the unseen cruiser was playing on them +from stem to stern. + +"Will you come with me, Guild?" asked Jamison quietly. + +"No, Jamison, I'm hanged if I do.... And that's too close to the truth +to be very funny," he added, laughingly. + +"The _Wyvern_ will merely send a guard for you. It's no good bluffing, +Guild. You know it yourself." + +"International law is no bluff!" + +"International law is merely in process of evolution just now. It's in +the making. And we are making it." + +"That remark is very British." + +"Yes, I'm afraid it is. I'm sorry." + +"Well, I won't go aboard the _Wyvern_, I tell you. I've _got_ to stay on +this ship! I--" he leaned over and said under his breath--"it may mean +death to me, Jamison, to go aboard your ship. Not because of anything I +have to fear from _your_ people. On the contrary. But they'll shoot me +in Germany. Can't you tell your captain I'm trustworthy?" + +"What is the use, Guild?" said the young man gently. "I have my orders." + +Guild looked at him, looked about him at the grave faces of the captain +and the second officer, looked out across the black void of water where +the long beam of the searchlight had shifted skyward, as though +supplicating Heaven once more. + +Only a miracle could save Karen. He knew that as he stood there, silent, +with death in his heart. + +And the miracle happened. For, as he stood staring at the heavenward +beam of the unseen cruiser's searchlight, all at once the ship herself +became grotesquely visible, tilted up oddly out of the sea in the centre +of a dull reddish glow. The next instant a deadened boom sounded across +the night as though from infinite depths; a shaft of fire two hundred +feet high streamed skyward. + +"That ship has been torpedoed! Oh, my God!" said a voice. + +"The _Wyvern_ has hit a mine!" roared the Dutch captain. "I'm going to +get out of this _now_!" + +Jamison's youthful face was marble; he swayed slightly where he stood. +The next instant he was over the side like a cat, and Guild heard him +hailing his boat in an agonized voice which broke with a dry, boyish +sob. + +From everywhere out of the blackness searchlights stretched out +tremulous phantom arms toward the _Wyvern_, and their slender white +beams crossed and recrossed each other, focussing on the stricken +warship, which was already down by the stern, her after deck awash, and +that infernal red glow surrounding her like the glow of hell around a +soul in torment. + +Passengers, seamen, stewards crowded and crushed him to the rail, +shouting, struggling, crying out in terror or in pity. + +Guild caught an officer by his gold sleeve. "We ought to stand by her," +he said mechanically. "Her magazine is afire!" + +"There are boats a-plenty to look after her," returned the officer; "the +British destroyers are all around her like chicks about a dying hen. +She's their parent ship; and there go their boats, pulling hell for +sweeps! God! If it was a mine, I wish we were at Amsterdam, I do!" + +The steamer was already under way; electric signals sparkled from her; +signals were sparkling everywhere in the darkness around them. And all +the while the cruiser with her mortal wound, enveloped in her red aura, +agonized there in the horrible sombre radiance of her own burning +vitals. + +Far away in the black void a ship began to fire star-shells. + +As the awed throng on the moving liner's decks gazed out across the +night, the doomed cruiser split slowly amidships, visibly, showing the +vivid crack of her scarlet, jagged wound. For a second or two she fairly +vomited hell-fire; lay there spouting it out in great crimson gouts; +then she crashed skyward into incandescent fragments like a single +gigantic bomb, and thunderous blackness blotted out sea and sky once +more. + + + + + CHAPTER X + + FORCE + + +He knocked sharply at the stateroom door and called, "Karen! It is I! +Open!" + +She flung open the door, satchel in hand, and he entered, closed the +door, relocked it, and dropped down on the lounge, staring at space. + +"Kervyn! What is it?" she asked faintly, one hand against her breast. + +"It is all right," he said--"as far as we are concerned--for the +present, anyway. God! I can't realize it--I can't get over it----" + +"What, Kervyn?" she faltered, kneeling on the lounge beside the half +dazed man. "What happened? Why are you so ghastly pale? Are we really +quite safe? Or are you trying to make it easier for me----" + +"No; you and I are safe enough for the moment," he said. "But men are +dying out yonder. The sea is full of dead men, Karen. And--I saw it +all." + +"I heard guns. What has happened?" + +"I don't know. It was a mine perhaps, perhaps a torpedo. A ship has been +blown up." He lifted his head and turned to her: "But you are not to say +such a thing to anybody--after I leave you at Trois Fontaines." + +"No, Kervyn." + +"Not to anybody. Not even to your father. Do you understand me, Karen?" + +"No. But I won't tell anybody." + +"Because," he explained wearily, "the Admiralty may have reasons for +concealing it. If they mean to conceal it, this ship of ours will be +stopped again and held for a while in some French or British port." + +"Why?" + +"So that the passengers cannot talk about what they saw tonight." + +His haunted glance fell on the satchel at their feet. "As for that," he +said, "I've had enough of it, and I'll take no further chances. Where +are our passports?" + +"Locked in with the other papers. I was all ready to throw them out of +the port when you knocked." + +"Unlock the bag now. I'll get rid of the whole business," he said +bluntly. + +"Kervyn--I can't do that." + +"What?" he exclaimed. + +"I can't destroy those papers if there is a chance of getting through +with them. I gave my promise, you know." + +The dull surprise in his eyes changed gradually to impatience. + +"If another ship stops us, they'll have to go overboard, anyway." + +"We may not be stopped again. If we are, we have time." + +"Karen." + +"Yes--dear?" + +A slight flush came into his haggard face; he hesitated, looked up at +her where she was kneeling on the sofa beside him. "Dear," he said +gently, "I have never intended that you should carry those papers to +your father, or to anybody else." + +"I don't quite understand you." + +"Try to understand. I am a friend to England--even a closer friend +to--Belgium." + +"I know. But you are _my_ friend, too." + +"Devotedly, Karen." He took hold of her hand; she slipped down to the +sofa and settled there beside him with a little air of confidence which +touched and troubled him. + +"I _am_ your friend," he said. "But there is another friendship that +demands first of all the settlement of prior obligations. And, if these +obligations conflict with any others, the others must give way, Karen." + +"What do you mean?" + +"The obligations of friendship--of--of affection--these must give way +before a duty more imperative." + +"What duty?" + +"Allegiance." + +"To--whom?" + +"To the country in which my race had its origin." + +"Yes.... But America is neutral, Kervyn." + +"I mean--Belgium," he said in a low voice. + +"Belgium! Are you then Belgian?" she asked, amazed. + +"When Belgium is in trouble--yes." + +"How can you be loyal to two countries?" + +"By being loyal to my own manhood--and to the God who made me," he +answered in a low voice. + +"You feel so deeply about this war?" + +"Nothing on earth could stir me as deeply, Karen. Unless--America were +in danger." + +"I--I can't understand." + +"Let me help you. My family was Belgian. For many years we have been +good and loyal Americans. America means home. But, nevertheless, we +inherit obligations toward the country of our origin which, so far, time +has not extinguished.... When I became of military age I went to Belgium +and served my time in the Belgian army. Then I went--home. My father did +it before me. My grandfather before him. My younger brother will do it, +God willing. It is our custom to fulfill our obligations," he added with +a faint smile, "even when those obligations seem to others a trifle +fanciful and old-fashioned." + +She bent her fair head in silence, considering for a space, her hand +resting rather lifelessly in his. And, after a few moments: "But how +does all this interfere with our friendship?" she asked innocently. + +"It does not.... Only I could not let you take those papers to Germany, +Karen." + +"But I've promised." + +"You promised to do it if it were possible." He lifted her hand to his +lips. "But--it has become impossible, Karen." + +"Another ship may not interfere." + +"No. But I must--interfere." + +"You! _Kervyn!_" + +"Dear--I _must_." + +"_Betray_ me?" + +"Karen! Karen! What are you saying?" + +"If you take my papers away you betray our friendship!" + +"I have told you that there is a higher obligation than friendship. Even +_your_ friendship, Karen." + +"You--you mean to take my papers from me?" + +"Yes, dear." + +"By--by _violence_?" + +"Karen! Look at me!" + +She gave him a white, breathless glance, wrenched her hand from his, +stooped suddenly, seized the satchel, and, gathering it against her +breast, clasped both arms around it. Then she looked him straight in the +eyes. + +"Yes," he said, "that is the only way. You must keep your word to the +last and do your best. Only--remember that what I do now has no bearing +whatever upon our friendship. I--I care for you--at this moment--more +than I ever did. So--forgive me--Karen----" + +"I never shall! Kervyn! Kervyn--think what you are doing!----" + +He encircled her with his left arm, and with his right hand he gathered +both of her slender wrists in his grasp and held them. The satchel +rolled from her knees to the floor. + +"Kervyn!" she cried, "think what you are doing!" She looked up into his +set face where he held her crushed against his shoulder. "I am your +friend. Think what you are doing! I--I care--so much--for you!" + +"And I for you, Karen.... Is that the key around your neck on that blue +ribbon?" + +"You shall not have it. Oh, Kervyn! Kervyn!" she gasped--"what are you +doing to our friendship! What are you doing!" + +[Illustration: "'Kervyn! Kervyn--Think what you are doing!--'"] + +The struggle was already over; with his left arm he held both of her +arms pinned tightly to the supple body which lay panting against him, +while with his other hand he untied the narrow blue bow-knot at her +throat and freed the tiny key. Then he released her. They both were +deadly pale. She dropped back among the pillows and lay there staring at +him. There was in the white calm of her face an expression almost +pleasant. + +"So--you have done it," she said in a curiously altered voice, but her +lips scarcely moved when she spoke. + +He did not answer, but in her level eyes he saw blue lightning glimmer. + +"You did your best," he said. "Your conscience is clear. Nobody can +reproach you." + +"Do you understand," she said in a low, expressionless voice, "that I am +your enemy?" + +"Do you reason that way, Karen?" + +"Reason?" + +"Yes. Reason it out, Karen, before you come to such a conclusion." + +She said, very quietly: "A woman takes a shorter cut to her conclusions +than by reasoning. As I did with you ... when I gave you my friendship +... unasked--" She turned her head swiftly, and sat for a moment while +the starting tears dried in her eyes, unshed. They dried slowly while +the battle raged within her--combat of mind and heart with every +outraged instinct in arms, every emotion, every impulse. Pride, belief, +faith, tenderness--all desperately wounded, fought blindly in the +assault upon her heart, seeming to tear it to a thousand bleeding +fragments. + +Perhaps, like the fair body of Osiris, it was immortal--a deathless, +imperishable thing--or that what had come into it had become +indestructible. For, after her heart lay in burning fragments within +her, she turned and looked at him, and in her eyes was all the tragedy +of her sex--and all its never-ending mystery to men. + +"I must end what I have begun," he said gently. + +"Does it matter, now?" + +"I don't know, Karen. I have no choice--even when your hatred threatens +me.... I suppose it will be that, when I unlock your satchel." + +He picked it up and fitted the key to the lock. As he opened it, a faint +fresh fragrance came from it, as though he was violating the delicate +intimacy of this young girl herself. + +But he set his jaws; she saw the cheek muscles tighten; and he drew from +the satchel two flat envelopes. One contained the forged passports, and +he placed these in his breast pocket, then looked steadily at her. + +"Our friendship breaks with those seals," she said unsteadily. + +"Karen--I cannot help it." + +"Yes, you can help it.... Kervyn!... Wait! I will--will say--that it is +more than friendship that breaks--" She caught her breath and her lip +quivered--"I--I have the courage to say it--if it means anything to +you--if it will help----" + +His face reddened, then it grew pallid and expressionless. + +"Even that," he said, "must stand aside.... Karen, from the moment I saw +you I have been--in love with you." + +And, looking her steadily in the eyes, he broke the seals. + +When the last seal broke she gave a little cry, turned and covered her +eyes with both hands. + +As for Guild, he stood with a sheet of paper in his hands, staring at +the tracery which covered it and which meant absolutely nothing to him. +Then he looked at the remaining sheets of paper. None had any +significance to him. There were three sheets of thin translucent paper. +These sheets were numbered from one to three. + +The first seemed to be a hasty study from some artist's sketch book. It +appeared to be a roughly executed and hasty sketch of several rather +oddly shaped trees--a mere note jotted down to record the impression of +the moment--trees, a foreland, a flight of little hedge birds. + +[Illustration] + +On it, in English, the artist had written "Sunset." Indeed, the +declining and somewhat archaic sun on the horizon and the obviously +evening flight of the birds seemed to render the label unnecessary. + +For a long while Guild stood studying it in the light of the stateroom +ceiling lamp. And what continually arrested his attention and perplexed +him was the unusual shapes of the trees and the un-birdlike flight of +the birds. Also artists don't sketch on such paper. + +Now and then he looked across at Karen with an inscrutable expression, +and each time he looked at her his face seemed to grow more rigid and +his set jaws more inflexible. + +The girl crouched in the corner of the lounge, her face covered by both +hands and pressed against the pillows. + +He did not speak to her. Presently he turned to the next paper. It bore +the rough sketch of a fish, and was numbered 2. + +[Illustration] + +It was a wretched drawing, intended, evidently, to resemble an old pike +and three young ones. What it meant he had no idea. He passed to the +third and last sheet of paper, and it instantly held his attention. + +On it was depicted a figure, which he supposed was the artist's idea of +a Japanese dancing girl. She held a fan in her left hand. Over her +extended right hand a butterfly hovered. + +[Illustration] + +But what interested and concentrated Guild's attention was not the very +amateurish drawing, but the series of silly decorations on the paper +above her head--a number of quartered circles inclosed in squares and +oblongs. + +[Illustration] + +As decorations they meant nothing, indicated nothing, except that the +intellect responsible for them must be a meagre one. + +But as a cipher message these doubly bisected circles promised anything. + +This is what Guild saw and what caused him to seat himself on the sofa +beside the girl who still lay huddled over her pillows, her face hidden +in her hands. + +Seated, he drew out the portfolio containing his letters and a notebook. +Then, slipping a lead-pencil from the leather socket and tearing out a +sheet of paper, he started work--using the leather-backed book for a +support--on a cipher which looked to be impossible. Yet, all ciphers are +solved by the same method. And he knew it. + +[Illustration] + +The first thing he did was to find his "numbers" in the mass of +quartered circles. And, working steadily, swiftly, but intelligently, he +had, in the course of an hour, discovered, separated and jotted down, +nine of the quartered disks which he believed to represent numbers; and +one extra disk which he supposed to be zero. And he numbered each symbol +accordingly: merely eliminating all lines except those bisecting the +smaller circles. This gave him in order + +[Illustration] + +The next thing to do was to find what letters those numbers, or +combinations of numbers, represented. + +For a while he tried English, but arrived at no convincing result. So he +tried German, first making a list of the letters which were likely to +occur most frequently in the written language and then trying them with +the symbols which occurred most frequently in the manuscript before him. + +He found that the first symbol represented the figures 21. + +[Illustration] + +The twenty-first letter of the alphabet is _u_. He wrote it. + +The next symbol was + +[Illustration] + +for which he substituted the figures 14. The fourteenth letter of the +alphabet is _n_. He had, so far, two letters, _u_ and _n_, to experiment +with. + +He had sat for several minutes gazing absently at these two letters +when, like a shot, it struck him that the French word for the number, +one, was spelled _un_. Could the key of the cipher be French? He +separated and jotted down the next combination of disks + +[Illustration] + +which gave him the numbers 19. The nineteenth letter of the alphabet is +_s_. He wrote it. + +The next symbol was + +[Illustration] + +or the figure 9. The ninth letter of the alphabet is _i_. + +The next symbol was + +[Illustration] + +which, translated, gave him 24. The twenty-fourth letter of the alphabet +is _x_. + +He now had the letters _s-i-x_. And no sooner had he written them in +order than the word six stared him in the face and he flushed with pure +excitement. + +He had now two words, _un_ and _six_. The chances were that he was +somewhere on the right track and he fell to work with a concentration +and ardour which left him oblivious to everything else--to time and +place, and to the silent, motionless little figure huddled over the +pillows beside him. + +[Illustration: A Fragment from Guild's Notebook] + +At the end of an hour--checked twice--but finally overcoming apparent +defeat, and always following the same method of deduction, he came to an +end of his symbols, and he found the leaf from his notebook was covered +with the following words in order of symbol: + + Un, six douze cinq cinq vingt, douze quinz' + vingt-un sept eight, nineteen vingt trois nine douze + douze twenty-five, eight cinq trois eight vingt, six + quinze douze douze quinze vingt-trois, deux nine + eighteen quatre nineteen. + +For these numerals spelled out capriciously in either abbreviated French +or English he substituted numbers in the sequence given: + + "1--6--12--5--5--20--12--15--21--7--8--19 + --23--9--12--12--25--8--5--3--8--20--6--15 + --12--12--15--23--2--9--18--4--19." + +Then for the figure 1 he wrote the first letter of the alphabet--_A_. +For the number six he wrote the sixth letter of the alphabet _F_. For +the number 12, the twelfth letter of the alphabet _L_. + +And when he had written letters for every figure in order given he had +on his sheet of paper + + A FLEETLOUGHSWILLYHECHTFOLLOW + BIRDS + +After a while he separated the words _A_, _Fleet_, _Follow_, and +_Birds_, leaving the unintelligible sequence of letters +LOUGHSWILLYHECHT. + +Out of this, for a long while, he could make nothing, until, by chance, +taking the last five letters together, it suddenly occurred to him that +the German word for pike was HECHT. Then, in a flash, he remembered the +badly drawn picture of a pike and its young. Pike or Hecht, that was one +of the words in all probability. But what _other_ word the word Hecht +represented he could not imagine. + +He looked at his notebook again. The letters remaining were LOUGHSWILLY. +They meant absolutely nothing in any language he had even heard of. He +studied what he already had--A Fleet (Blank) Pike Follow Birds. A _pike_ +follow _Birds_--_birds_--and swift as lightning a thought struck him +which set him tingling to his finger-tips: somewhere in that rough, +hasty, and apparently innocent sketch in which oddly shaped trees and a +line of little birds figured, lay the key to the whole thing. + +He felt it, he _knew_ it. He spread out the drawing on his knees and +studied it with terrible concentration, conscious somehow or other that +something about it, something _in_ it, was vaguely familiar to him. +_What?_ Had he ever before seen another sketch by the same hand? He +could not recollect. It was like millions of rough, hasty sketches +jotted down by painters as notes for their own guidance only and not for +others to see. + +What was there about it unusual? The trees? The _shapes_ of the trees. +Ah! he was getting nearer the goal--he realized it, felt it, and, +balked, fell into a mental rage for a moment. + +Then his habitual self-command returned; he squared his jaws, gazed +grimly at the trees, and forced himself once more to answer his own +questions. + +The shapes of the trees, then, were unusual. He had gotten that far. +What was unusual in their shapes? The trunks and branches? No. The +foliage. No. The outline! + +"God!" he whispered. And he had it. + +Over the sofa was hanging a map of the British Isles and of the Western +coast of Europe. Dotted lines indicated the course taken by the Holland +Line steamers. He reached up, unhooked it, looked at it, then at the +drawing in his hand. + +Then he detached half of the thin sheet of paper on which the sketch was +drawn and laid it over the sketch. Being translucent to the verge of +transparency, he could see the drawing beneath the thin sheet covering +it. + +Then, with his pencil, he steadily traced the _outlines_ of the trees. + +When he had done this and had removed the sketch from beneath his +tracing-paper he had what he expected--an _outline_ of the British +Isles, the Hebrides, Orkneys, Shetlands; part of the coast of Norway, +the French, Belgian and Dutch coast. Heligoland, and the German coast at +Cuxhaven and Wilhelmshaven. + +From the map of the steamship company he carefully filled in boundaries +and a few principal towns, then placing his outline drawing over the +sketch of the trees he drew a dotted line following exactly the flight +of the little birds. + +Where that flight terminated he made an arrow, then turned his eyes on +the steamer map to find out where that arrow's point rested. + +And there on the Irish coast he saw the name Lough Swilly! + +It was the last link!--the last but one. + +"A Fleet Lough Swilly. Hecht (Pike) follow birds." + +A pike, with little pike following her, was to follow the flight of the +birds--the dotted line on his outline map. The dotted line curved up out +of Cuxhaven, around the Orkneys and Hebrides and into Lough +Swilly--_where there was a fleet_! + +[Illustration] + +Out of Cuxhaven--_Cuxhaven!_ where lay the German submarines!--A pike, +and young! A parent ship and submarines! + +The last link was forged; the chain complete--not quite--not entirely. +The Japanese dancing girl? And under the number of the sketch, 3,--were +three symbols. They were junks with latten sails. + +Perhaps there were three Japanese battleships at Lough Swilly. It didn't +matter; the chain was complete enough for him. + + + + + CHAPTER XI + + STRATEGY + + +As he rose from the sofa, stretching his arms to ease his cramped +muscles, Guild became conscious that he was very tired. + +He had had little sleep the night before and none at all this night. He +glanced at his watch; it was four o'clock in the morning. He went to the +port, unscrewed it, and looked out into pitch darkness. There was not a +light to be seen on the sea, no flare from any headland, no spark which +might indicate a lighthouse, not a star overhead, not a sparkle save for +the splintered reflection of the vessel's own lights running over the +water alongside, through which foaming, curling waves raced and fled +away into the black obscurity astern. + +He turned and looked gravely at Karen. The girl still lay unstirring +among the pillows on the sofa. One arm covered her head as though to +shield it from some blow. + +He bent beside her, listening to her breathing. It was quiet and +regular, and on her cheek was a flush like the delicate colour of a +sleeping child. + +He had no mind to disturb her, yet he could not make her more +comfortable without awaking her. + +All he dared do was to unbutton her spats very cautiously, and slip off +the little brown suede shoes. + +Over her he laid the blankets from the bed, lightly, then opened wide +the port. + +His own toilet for the night was even simpler; he folded together the +batch of damning papers, originals, his own notes, the forged passports, +strapped them with an elastic band, buttoned them inside his breast +pocket, reached over and extinguished the electric globe, and, fully +dressed, lay down on the stripped bed in darkness. + +They had been traveling sixteen hours. Allowing for their detention by +the ill-omened _Wyvern_, they should dock at Amsterdam in five or six +hours more. + +He tried to sleep; but his nerves were very much alive and his excited +brain refused to subscribe to the body's fatigue. + +All that had happened since he first saw Karen Girard he now went +over and over in his mind in spite of himself. He strove to stop +thinking, and could not; and sometimes the lurid horror of the +_Wyvern_ possessed him with all its appalling details made plain to +his imagination--details not visible from the liner's decks, yet perhaps +the more ghastly because hidden by distance and by the infernal glare +that fringed the doomed ship like a very nimbus from hell itself. + +This obsessed him, and the villainous information which he had wrested +from the papers which this young girl had been carrying--information +amply sufficient to convict her and to make inevitable the military +execution of the man Grätz and the grinning chauffeur, Bush. + +And if the wretched maid, Anna, had been arrested with papers similar to +these on her person, her case, too, was hopeless. Because the very +existence of England depended upon extinguishing forever people who +dealt in secret information like that which lay folded and buttoned +under his belted coat of tweed. + +He knew it, knew what his fate must have been had the satchel been +searched on Fresh Wharf--knew what Karen's fate must have been, also, +surely, surely! + +And had those papers been taken aboard the _Wyvern_ it had not been very +long before the simplicity of the cipher had been discovered by anybody +trained in code work. + +For, in spite of its surface complexity, the cipher was a singularly +simple one, even a stupid code, based on simple principles long known +and understood in all of their hundreds of variations. + +And all such ciphers, granted time and patience, could be solved by the +same basic principles. The only function of that kind of code was to so +multiply its intricacies and variations that, with a time limit for +delivery understood, measures could be taken at the other end to +minimize the effect of discovery, the elapsing of the time limit serving +as an automatic warning that message or messenger were under forcible +detention within the enemy's lines. + +Yes, it had been a stupid cipher, and an easy one. + +A trained man would have solved it in half the time he had required. + +Nothing about the message remained really obscure except the Japanese +dancing girl playing with her butterfly and fan, and the lack of +information concerning the "fleet" at anchor or cruising near "Lough +Swilly" on the Irish coast. + +As far as the fleet was concerned, Guild was very confident that he +understood. The whereabouts of the British battleship fleet was not +known, had been carefully guarded. Without a doubt Lough Swilly was its +rendezvous; and the German spy system in England had discovered it and +was sending the information to Berlin with a suggestion that submarines +"follow the birds," i. e., take that dotted course around the northern +Scottish coast, slip south into Lough Swilly, and attack the first line +of battle squadron where it had been supposed to lurk in safety, +awaiting its call to action. That was as clear as daylight, but the +Japanese figure he could not understand. + + * * * * * + +He was utterly unable to sleep. After an hour's staring into the +darkness he rose cautiously, opened the stateroom door and stepped into +the lighted corridor. + +Here he lighted a cigarette against regulations and began to pace up and +down. + +Presently the sharp nose of a steward detected the aroma of tobacco, and +he came prowling into the corridor. + +So Guild nodded and tossed the cigarette out of the open port at the end +of the corridor. + +"We ought to dock by nine," he said. + +"About nine, sir." + +"We're lucky to have run afoul of nothing resembling a mine." + +"God, sir! Wasn't it awful about the _Wyvern_! I expect some passenger +steamer will get it yet. Mines by the hundreds are coming ashore on the +coast of Holland." + +"Have you had any news by wireless?" asked Guild. + +"A little, sir. They've been fighting all night south of Ostend. Also, +we had a wire from London that a German light cruiser, the +_Schmetterling_, is at Valparaiso, and that a Japanese cruiser, the +_Geisha_, and a French one, the _Eventail_, have been ordered after +her." + +Guild nodded carelessly, stretched his arms, yawned, and returned to the +stateroom, knowing that now, at last, he was in possession of every item +in the secret document. + +For the Japanese dancing girl was the _Geisha_, the fan in her hand was +the French cruiser _Eventail_ and the butterfly fluttering about her was +the German light cruiser _Schmetterling_--which in that agreeable +language means "butterfly," and which no doubt had made an attempt upon +the _Geisha_ and had been repulsed. + +And this warning was sent that the _Schmetterling_ had better keep her +distance, because the _Eventail_ had now joined the Japanese ship, and +the two meant mischief. + +As for the drawing of the Pike, perhaps on the German naval list there +might have been a vessel named the _Hecht_. He did not know. The symbol +of the most ferocious fresh-water fish in Europe was sufficient to +indicate the nature of the craft even had the flight of the "birds" not +made it unmistakable. There could be no doubt about it that the Hecht +with the three little Hechts following had been explicitly invited to +cruise in the North Sea and have a look-in at Lough Swilly. And that was +quite enough to understand. + + * * * * * + +He turned on the cabin light, went to Karen's side and looked at her. + +She had moved, but only in her sleep apparently. The back of one hand +lay across her forehead; her face was turned upward, and on the flushed +cheeks there were traces of tears. + +But she still slept. He arranged her coverings again, stood gazing at +her for a moment more, then he extinguished the light and once more lay +down on the bare mattress, using his arm for a pillow. + +But sleep eluded him for all his desperate weariness. He thought of +Grätz and of Bush and of the wretched woman involved by them and now a +prisoner. + +The moment he turned over these papers to the British Consul in +Amsterdam the death warrant of Grätz and Bush was signed. He knew that. +He knew also that the papers in his possession were going to be +delivered to British authority. But first he meant to give Grätz and +Bush a sporting chance to clear out. + +Not because they had aided him. They cared nothing about him. It was +Karen they had aided, and their help was given to her because of von +Reiter. + +No, it was not in him to do the thing that way. Had he been a British +officer on duty it had been hard enough to do such a thing. + +As it was he must give them their chance and he knew of only one way to +do it. This point settled he dismissed it from his mind and, with a +slight sigh, permitted his harassed thoughts to lead him where they +seemed always now inclined to lead him when permitted--back to the young +girl he had known only a few hours, but in whose company it seemed to +him that he had already lived a century. + +He was not a man given to easy friendships, not a man in whom sensations +were easily stirred. Under ordinary circumstances, perhaps, neither the +youthful beauty of this girl, nor her talents and accomplishments had +stirred him to more than an amiably impersonal interest. He had known +many women and had been friends with a few. But on his part the +friendships had not been sentimental. + +Women of all sorts and conditions he had known: fashionable idlers, +professional women, domesticated women; women with ideas, women without +them, busy women with leisure for mischief, mischievous women whose +business was leisure, happy women, unhappy ones, calm ones, restless +ones, clever ones, stupid ones and their even more irritating sisters +who promised to amount to something and never did, all these varieties +of the species he had known, but never a woman like this. + +Usually he could place a woman after seeing her move and hearing her +speak. He could only place Karen on a social par with any woman he had +ever known, and he was afraid she didn't belong there, because well-born +German Mädchens don't interne themselves in nun-like seclusion far from +Vaterland, Vater, and maternal apron-strings, with intervals of sallying +forth into the world for a few months' diversion as a professional +actress on the stage. + +At least Guild had never heard of any girls who did such things. But +there remained the chance, of course, that Karen Girard was a perfectly +new type to him. + +One fact was evident; her father was a Prussian officer and belonged to +the Prussian aristocracy. But gentlemen of these castes do not permit +their daughters the freedom that Karen enjoyed. + +There was a mystery about the matter, probably not an agreeable one. +Antecedents, conditions and facts did not agree. There was no logic in +her situation. + +Guild realized this. And at the same time he realized that he had never +liked any woman as much--had never come to care for any woman as easily, +as naturally, and as quickly as he had come to care for Karen Girard. + +It stirred him now to remember that this young girl had responded, +frankly, fearlessly, naturally; had even met him more than half-way with +a sweet sincerity and confidence that touched him again as he thought of +it. + +Truly he had never looked into such honest eyes, or into lovelier +ones,--two clear, violet wells of light. And Truth, who abides in wells, +could not have chosen for her dwelling place habitations more suitable. + +She seemed to possess all qualities as well as all accomplishments and +graces of mind and body. The quality of courage was hers--a courage +adorable in its femininity. But there was nothing hard about it, only +firmness--like the white firmness of her skin. And her intuitive +generosity was as quick and melting as the exquisite motives which +prompted it. + +Never could he forget that in the dreadful peril of the moment, she had +tried to give him a chance to escape the consequences of his +companionship with her,--had tried to send him ashore at the last moment +so that she alone might remain to face whatever there was confronting +her. + +It was a brave thing to do, generous, self-forgetful, merciful, and +finely just. For though she had not tried to deceive him she had +gradually realized that she herself might be deceived, and that she was +in honour bound to warn him concerning her suspicions of the satchel's +contents. + +And now--in the end--and after danger was practically over, how did they +stand, he and she? How had they emerged from the snarl of circumstances? + +Had his gentle violence killed forever a very wonderful beginning of +what they both had spoken of as friendship? And she--he reddened in the +darkness as he remembered--she had begged him in the name of friendship +not to violate it--had spoken of it, in the excitement of emotion, as +_more_ than friendship. + +It had been the most difficult thing he ever had had to do. + +Was it true that her friendship had turned to hatred? + +He wondered, wondered at the dull unhappiness which the thought brought +with it. And, wondering, fell asleep. + + * * * * * + +In the grey of dawn Karen sat up, wide-eyed, still tremulous from the +dream of death that had awakened her. + +Through the open port a grey sky glimmered. She rose to her knees and +gazed out upon a grey waste of water heaving to the horizon. + +Then she turned and looked across at the bed where Guild lay, his blond +head cradled on one arm, asleep. + +Her eyes rested on him a long while. Then she caught sight of her shoes +and spats on the floor--looked down at the blankets and covers that had +kept her warm. The next moment her eyes fell on her satchel where it +stood open, the key still in the lock, and her silver toilet articles +glimmering dully inside. + +The vague tenderness in her blue eyes vanished; _he_ had done _this_, +too!--shamefully, by force, treading mercilessly on the frail bud of +friendship--ignoring everything, sacrificing everything to a dull, +obstinate determination which he had characterized as duty. + +She turned and looked at the man who had done all this, her eyes darkly +beautiful, her lips stern. + +Duty? He had not considered the duty she owed. He had not respected her +promise to bring back what had been intrusted to her. And when the +discussion had tired him--when her warnings, pleadings--even her appeals +in the name of the first friendship she had ever given--had been +ignored, he had coolly used violence. + +Yes, violence, although, perhaps, the violence had not been very +violent. But it was force--and hateful to her who never before had been +obliged to endure the arrogance which her caste only knew how to +dispense. + +"So brauch' Ich Gewalt!" kept ringing in her ears like a very obsession +as she knelt there, sitting back on her own supple limbs, and watching +the sleeping man out of beautiful hostile eyes. + +_That_ man! That _American_--or Belgian--whatever he was--with his clear +grey eyes and his short yellow hair and that mouth of his which could be +faintly humorous at times and, at times be so ugly and set--what was +there about him that she liked--or rather _had_ liked? + +Not his features; they were only passable from an ornamental point of +view--not his lean but powerful figure, which resembled many other +figures she had seen in England--not his manner particularly--at least +she had seen more deferential attitudes, more polish of the courtly and +continental sort, more empressement. + +_What_ was it she liked,--had _once_ liked in this man? Nothing! +_Nothing!_--the tears suddenly glimmered in her eyes and she winked them +dry, angrily. + +And to think--to remember in years to come that she--_she_ had pleaded +with that man in the name of friendship--and of something _more_ than +friendship!--The hot colour mantled face and throat and she covered her +eyes in a sudden agony of mortification. + +For a few moments she remained so, then her hands fell, helplessly +again. + +And, as she knelt there looking at him through the increasing daylight, +suddenly her eyes narrowed, and her set face grew still and intent. + +Crowding out of the shallow breast pocket of his Norfolk where he lay +were papers. _Her_ papers! + +The next instant, lithely, softly, soundlessly on her unshod feet, she +had slipped from the lounge and crossed the stateroom to his side, and +her fingers already touched the edges of the packet. + +Her papers! And her hand rested on them. But she did not take them. +There was something about the stealth of the act that checked +her,--something that seemed foreign, repugnant to her nature. + +Breathless, her narrow hand poised, she hesitated, trying to remember +that the papers were hers--striving to aid herself with the hot and +shameful memory of the violence he had offered her. + +Why couldn't she take them? This man and she were now at war! War has +two phases, violence and strategy. Both are legitimate; he had played +his part, and this part was strategy. Why shouldn't she play that part? +Why? + +But her hand wavered, fell away, and she looked down into his sleeping +face and knew that she could not do it. + +After a moment his eyes opened and met hers, pleasantly. + +She blushed to her hair. + +He said: "Why didn't you take them, Karen?" + +"You couldn't understand if I told you," she said with youthful +bitterness. + +He looked very grave at that. She turned, picked up shoes and spats, and +seated herself on the sofa. + +So he got up, opened the door and went up on deck, leaving her the +stateroom to herself. + +At the office of the wireless station the operator seemed to have no +objection to sending a message for him to the British Consul in +Amsterdam, and obligingly looked up the address. So Guild sent his +message and prepaid reply. + +Then he went into the smoking-room and lit a cigarette. + +He was dozing when a steward awoke him with a reply to his wireless +message: + + Kervyn Guild + On board S. S. _Feyenoord_ + Will call at American Consulate. Many thanks. + CHURCHILL, Consul. + +He sat thinking for a few minutes. Then remembering that he did not know +where the American Consul was to be found, he went again to the wireless +office and procured the address. + +Turning, as he was leaving, to thank the boyish operator, he found that +youth's shrewd eyes fixed on him intently. + +"Look out, sir," said the operator, in perfectly good English. "There's +a lot o' talk about you on board." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Wasn't it you the _Wyvern_ was wanting?" + +"Yes." + +"You're friendly to us, I take it?" + +"Do you mean to England?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Yes, I am." + +"I fancied so. Be very careful aboard this boat, sir. Half the crew and +most of the stewards are German." + +"Thanks," said Guild smilingly. + +But as he walked slowly away he realized rather uneasily what an object +of interest he had become to the personnel of the ship since the +_Wyvern_ had honoured him by her wireless inquiries concerning him. + + + + + CHAPTER XII + + IN THE RAIN + + +He went straight to the writing-room. Only one or two of his +fellow-passengers were up, and he had the place to himself. + +He wrote first: + + W. A. Churchill, Esquire, + British Consulate, + Plantage Middenlaan 20, + Amsterdam, + Holland + + SIR: + + The following items of information should be immediately + transmitted to your home Government. The importance of the + matters in question admit of no delay. + + 1st. It has come to my knowledge that German spies in England + have discovered the whereabouts of a British fleet--presumably + the first line battle fleet--and have attempted to communicate + the intelligence to Berlin. One document in cipher embodying + this intelligence has been intercepted and translated. But other + communications in cipher may get through. + + 2d. Another document of the same sort advises the Berlin + Government to send from Cuxhaven a cruiser (parent ship) as + convoy to three submarines for the purpose of attacking the + British armoured ships. + + The rendezvous of the British ships, as given in the cipher + message, is Lough Swilly, North Irish coast. + + The route suggested for the German cruiser and submarines is + around the north coast of Scotland. + + 3d. Still a third document in cipher informs the German + Government that the light cruiser, _Schmetterling_, at or off + Valparaiso, is being pursued by the Japanese ship _Geisha_ and + the French gunboat _Eventail_. + + 4th. The fourth and last item of information to be transmitted + to your Government concerns an actuality witnessed by myself and + by the majority of the passengers of this steamer, now docking + at Rotterdam. + + Last night, somewhere between eleven o'clock and midnight, and + somewhere off the Belgian coast, H. M. S. _Wyvern_ was blown up, + whether by mine or torpedo or by a bomb from some unseen + air-craft I do not know. She was using her searchlight on the + clouds at the time. + + The ship was tilted out of the water at an odd angle when the + red glare that suddenly enveloped her made her visible. It + appears to me as though some submarine convulsion had heaved her + up out of the sea. + + There was one of her officers aboard our liner when the + catastrophe occurred--Lieutenant Jamison. A boat's crew lay + alongside of us. With these exceptions it does not seem probable + that anybody aboard the _Wyvern_ could have escaped death, + although other ships were in the vicinity and their searchlights + played upon her, and I saw small boats on the way to her before + she finally blew to pieces. + + This is the information which both duty and inclination impel me + to place at the disposal of the British Government. + + Permit me to add that I am leaving in the hands of the United + States consul, Henry H. Morgan, Esquire, a separate packet of + papers containing full corroboration of the foregoing details. + + The packet is addressed to you in his care, but he will be + instructed to give you this letter, only, and not to deliver the + packet to you until a week from today for reasons which I cannot + explain. + + The packet contains-- + + 1st. Three pages of cipher and pictographs employed by the + German spy system in London. + + 2d. A key to the cipher. + + 3d. A key to the pictographs. + + 4th. A full translation of the cipher. + + 5th. A translation of the pictographs. + + 6th. A map. + + The German personage to whom the packet was originally + addressed, the names and addresses of those who sent it from + London, the circumstances under which it was intercepted, will + be written out with what detail is necessary, and will be + contained in the packet with the original cipher. + + In one week from today the American Consul, Mr. Morgan, will + deliver to you this packet, but under no circumstances is it to + be delivered before a week from today. + + I have the honour to be, sir, with great respect, + + Your obt. serv't, + KERVYN GUILD. + + Union square, New York. + + +This letter he sealed, addressed, and laid aside. + +He then wrote to the American Consulate, addressing the note to the +Consul and Vice-Consul, saying that he committed to their care-- + + 1st. A letter to be called for immediately by the + British Consul in person, and so marked. + + 2d. A packet addressed to the British Consul, + but not to be delivered until a week had expired. + + 3d. A letter to be sent to the United States + Consul General in London with all speed. + + 4th. A telegram to be sent to Edmeston Automobile + Agency in London. + + 5th. A letter to the same agency. + +He then wrote out his telegram, wondering whether the United States +Consul could put it through: + + Edmeston Agency, + White Hood Lane, + London, E. C. + + Business of instant importance requires you all + to leave for Holland immediately. Lose no time. + + Signed--RIDER. + + Holland Line S. S. _Feyenoord_. + +The letter was directed to the Edmeston Agency: + + DEAR SIRS: + + Grätz and Bush must leave at once if they wish to enjoy the + fishing here. The _pike_ are biting. _Four have been caught. The + shooting, also, is excellent. Eight birds were killed + yesterday._ If Grätz and Bush do not leave within a week + business in London is likely to detain them indefinitely and + they will miss their holiday with little chance for another. + + Tell them to take the urgent advice of a sportsman and clear out + while they have the chance. + Yours with good intentions, + D. BROWN SATCHELL. + +While Guild was busy writing and consigning what he had written to +separate envelopes, he was aware of considerable movement and noise +outside on deck--the passing to and fro of many people, whistle blasts +from other craft--in fact, all the various species of bustle and noise +which, aboard any steamer, indicate its approach to port. + +He raised his head and tried to see, but it was still raining and the +air was dull with fog. + +Passengers, stewards, and officers came and went, passing through the +writing-room where he sat in a corner sorting and sealing his letters. +Twice, glancing up over his shoulder, he noticed a steward cleaning up, +dusting and arranging the pens, ink, and writing paper on the several +tables near by--one of those too busy and officious functionaries whose +zeal for tips usually defeats its own ends. + +And so it happened this time, for, as Guild, intent on what he was +writing, reached out absently for another envelope, a package of them +was thrust into his hand with a bustling, obsequious--"Paper, sir! Yes, +sir"--Beg pardon, sir! I'm sorry!"--For somehow the inkwell had been +upset and the pile of letters scattered over the floor. + +"Damn it!" said Guild savagely, springing back to avoid the streaming +ink. + +The steward appeared to be overwhelmed; down he flopped on his knees to +collect the letters, hopping up at intervals to sop the flowing flood of +ink from the desk. + +Guild took the letters from him grimly, counted the sealed envelopes, +then without a word went to the neighbouring desk, and, sitting down +there, wrote on the last sealed envelope not yet addressed--the envelope +which contained the cipher code, translation, and the information +concerning the Edmeston Company. When he had written on it: "To be +delivered to the British Consul in a week," he gathered all the letters, +placed them in his breast pocket, buttoned his coat, and went out. For +half an hour he walked to and fro under the shelter of the roofed deck, +glancing absently across the rail where there was nothing to see except +grey mist, grey water, and rain. + +After he had enough of this he went below. + +Karen was not in the cabin, but her luggage stood there beside his own. + +He had plenty of time to make a decent toilet; he bathed, shaved, chose +fresh linen, brushed his wrinkled tweeds as thoroughly as he could, +then, leaving the luggage there he went away in search of Karen with a +view to breakfast. + +He found her on the starboard deck very comfortably established. The +idiot deck steward who had upset his ink-well and scattered his letters +was serving her obsequiously with marmalade. + +As Guild approached Karen looked up at him coolly enough, though a +bright colour surged into her face. The steward bustled away to find +more coffee and rolls. + +"Do you feel rested at all?" asked Guild pleasantly. + +"Yes, thank you." + +"May I take the next chair and have breakfast with you?" + +"Yes, please." + +He seated himself. She said nothing, ate nothing. Suddenly it occurred +to him that in her quaint way she was waiting for his breakfast to +appear before beginning her own. + +"You are not waiting for me, are you?" he asked. "Don't do that; +everything will be cold." + +With an odd air of old-fashioned obedience, which always seemed to make +her more youthful to him, she began her breakfast. + +"We'll be docking presently," he remarked, glancing out into the fog and +thinly falling rain. + +"Yes." + +He lay back in his chair, not caring for her monosyllables, but +good-humouredly receptive in case she encouraged conversation. + +Neither the freshness of her clothes nor of her skin seemed to have +suffered from the discomforts of the night; her hair was lustrous and +crisply in order. From her hat-crown to the palms of her gloves rolled +back over her wrists, she seemed to have just left the hands of a clever +maid, so fresh, sweet, fragrant and immaculate she appeared to him, and +he became uncomfortably conscious of his knickerbockers and badly +wrinkled tweeds. + +The same fool of a steward brought his coffee. And as Karen offered no +encouragement to conversation he breakfasted beside her in silence. + +Afterward he lighted a cigarette, and they both lay back on their +steamer chairs watching the fog and the drizzle and the promenading +passengers who all appeared to be excited at the approaching process of +docking and over the terrible episode of the previous night. + +In all languages it was being discussed; Guild could catch fragments of +conversation as groups formed, passed, and repassed their chairs. + +Another thing was plain to him; Karen had absolutely nothing to say to +him, and apparently no further interest in him. + +From time to time he looked at the pure profile which never turned in +response. Self-possessed, serene, the girl gazed out into the fog as +though she were quite alone on deck. Nor did there seem to be any effort +in her detached interest from her environment. And Guild wondered in his +depressed heart whether he had utterly and hopelessly killed in her the +last faint glimmer of friendly interest in him. + +The docking of the _Feyenoord_ in the fog interested him very little; +here and there a swaying mast or a black and red funnel loomed up in the +fog, and the air was full of characteristic noises--that is all he saw +or heard where he lay silent, brooding on fate and chance and on the +ways of a woman in the pride of her youth. + +The idiot steward reappeared and Guild sent him below for their luggage. + +On the gang-plank they descended with the throng, shoulder to shoulder +in silence. Inspection did not take long; then a porter who had been +following took their luggage. + +"Karen, do you speak Dutch?" asked Guild, mischievously. + +"Yes--a little." + +"I supposed you did," he said smilingly. "Please ask him the shortest +way to the United States Consulate." + +She turned indifferently to the porter: "Wat is de Kortste weg naar----" + +She hesitated, then with a dainty malice indescribable--"--Naar the +Yankee Consulate?" she added calmly. + +Guild reddened and strolled a few steps forward, thoroughly incensed. + +The porter smothered a smile: "Mejuffrouw--" he began, "ga recht uit +links, en den de derde Straat rechts----" + +"Hoe ver is het?" + +The porter glanced sideways and cunningly after Guild, then sank his +voice: "Freule--" he began, but the girl's haughty amazement silenced +him. He touched his cap and muttered in English: "Madam is known to me. +The chain is long from London to Trois Fontaines. I am only another link +in that chain--at madam's service." + +"I _am_ served--sufficiently. Find a motor cab and tell the driver to +take us to the United States Consulate." + +The porter's visage expressed sullen curiosity: "Why," he asked in +German, "does the gracious, well-born young lady desire to visit the +_American_ Consulate when the German Consulate is possibly expecting +her?" + +At that she straightened up, staring at the man out of coldly insolent +eyes. + +"That is enough," she said. "Take our luggage to a motor cab." + +"To the Yankee Consulate?" + +"_To the Consulate of the United States!_ Do you hear? Move, then!" she +said crisply. + +It was raining torrents; Guild held the sullen porter's umbrella while +Karen entered the cab; the luggage was stowed, the vehicle wheeled out +into rain-shot obscurity. + +Karen turned impulsively to the man beside her: "Forgive my rudeness; I +am ashamed to have insulted your Consulate." + +He flushed, but his lips twitched humorously; "I am sure that the United +States very freely forgives Fräulein Girard." + +"Do _you_?" + +"Does it matter?" he asked lightly. + +"Yes. Are my amends acceptable to _you_?" + +"Of course. But what am I--Karen----" + +"You are--amiable. It was very common of me." + +"It might have been rather common in anybody else. You couldn't be +_that_. Somehow," he added, smiling, "as we say in America, you seem to +get away with it, Karen." + +"You are very--amiable," she repeated stiffly. + +And constraint fell between them once more, leaving him, however, +faintly amused. She _could_ be such a _little_ girl at times. And she +was adorable in the rôle, though she scarcely suspected it. + +At the American Consulate the cab stopped and Guild turned up his coat +collar and sprang out. + +While he was absent the girl lay back in her corner, her eyes fixed on +the rain-smeared pane. She had remained so motionless for some time when +a tapping at the cabin window attracted her attention. A beggar had come +to the street side of the cab and was standing there, the rain beating +on his upturned face. And the girl hastily drew out her purse and let +down the window. + +Suddenly she became rigid; the beggar had said something to her under +his breath. The English shilling fell from her fingers to the floor of +the cab. + +His hand still extended in supplication, the man went on in German: + +"Your steamer swarmed with English spies. One of them was your +stewardess." + +The girl's lips parted, stiffly: "I don't understand," she said with an +effort. + +"The stewardess spied on the deck steward, Ridder. They were all +watching each other on that ship. And everybody watched you and the +American. Ridder told me to follow you to the American Consulate." + +"Who are _you_?" + +"I served as one of the waiters in the saloon. Grätz knows me. If you +are carrying any papers of value be careful." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Ridder gave you some papers. The stewardess saw him. She came ashore +and watched you while your luggage was being inspected. She knows you +have driven to the American Consulate. Your porter told her--the fool! +Do you know what she is up to?" + +"I--I can--guess. I think you had better go--quick!" she added as the +Consulate door opened and Guild came out. And she fumbled in her purse +for a coin, thrust it hastily through the window, and turned in +confusion to meet the young man's sternly questioning eyes. + +"What are you doing?" he asked bluntly. + +"A man--begging." + +"For what, Karen? For money or information?" + +The girl winced and avoided his gaze. The cab wheeled in a short circle +and moved off through the rain again. + +"Which was it he wanted, Karen?" repeated Guild quietly. "Was it money +or--something else he wanted?" + +"Does--it--concern you?" she stammered. + +"Yes. Because I have just learned over the Consulate telephone that +German agents are now attempting to do what you refrained from doing +last night." + +"What?" + +"Steal the papers I had of you." + +"Do you mean the papers you _stole_?" + +"I mean the papers I took by highway robbery. There is a difference," he +added. "But both are robbery, and I thought _you_ were above such +things." + +"I am!" she said, flushing. + +"No, you are not!" he retorted sternly. "What you were too fastidious to +do for yourself last night--take the papers when you thought I was +asleep--you had done for you this morning by a steward!" + +"I did _not_!" + +"Why do you deny it? What do you mean? Don't you know that while I was +busy in the writing-room a steward upset my ink, scattered my papers, +stole the envelope containing the papers I took from you, and left me a +sealed envelope full of tissue paper?" + +"It isn't true!" + +"It is true." + +"How do you know?" + +"Your stewardess told me over the telephone a few moments ago. Karen, +you are untruthful!" + +She caught her breath; the tears flushed in her eyes: + +"I am _not_ untruthful! It does look like it but I am not! I did not +know that the deck steward had robbed you. He came to my door and gave +me the papers, saying that he had picked them up in the corridor outside +our--my--door! I did not engage anybody to steal them--if it _is_ +stealing to recover--my own--property----" + +"That deck steward is a spy, but I don't understand how he could have +known that I had taken the papers from you." + +"I don't know either," she said excitedly. "But everybody knew +everything on board that ship. It was a nest of spies." + +His grim features relaxed. "I'm sorry I charged you with untruth, Karen. +I never shall again. But--what was I to think?" + +"When I tell you a thing--_that_ is what you are to think," she said +crisply. + +"Yes.... I realize that now. I am sorry. May I ask your forgiveness?" + +"Yes--please." + +"Then--I do ask it." + +"Accorded." + +"May I ask a little more?" he continued. + +"What?" + +"May I ask you to tell me what you did with those papers after the deck +steward gave them to you?" + +"I shall not tell you." + +"Then I am afraid that I shall have to tell you how you disposed of +those papers. You first went to the stewardess and borrowed a needle and +thread and then asked permission to sit in her room and do a little +necessary sewing----" + +The girl blushed hotly: "The contemptible creature!" she exclaimed. + +"A little sewing," repeated Guild, coolly. "And," he continued, "you +sewed those papers to your clothing. The stewardess saw you do it." + +"Very well! Suppose I did." + +"You have them on you now." + +"And then?" + +"Why it was a silly thing to do, Karen." + +"Silly? Why?" + +"Because," he said calmly, "I must have them, and it makes it more +awkward for us both than if you had merely put them back into your +satchel." + +"You--you intend--to----" Her amazement checked her, then flashed out +into wrath. + +"Do you know," she said, "that you are becoming impudent?" + +"Karen," he retorted very quietly, "a man of my sort isn't _impudent_. +But, possibly, he might be _insolent_--if he chooses. And perhaps I +shall choose." + +Checked, her lips still quivering, the girl, despite her anger, +understood what he meant--knew that she was confronting a man of her own +caste, where insolence indeed might happen, but nothing more plebeian. + +"I--spoke to you as though you were an American," she said slowly. "I +forgot----" + +"I am answering you as an American!" he interrupted drily. "Make no +mistake about that country; it breeds plenty of men who have every right +to answer you as I do!" + +She bit her lip; her eyes filled and she averted her face. Presently the +cab stopped. + +"We're at the station," he said briefly. + + * * * * * + +Whether Guild had paid for the entire compartment or whether it happened +so she did not inquire, but they had the place to themselves, so far. + +Guild paid no further attention to her except to lay a couple of +Tauchnitz novels beside her on the seat. After that he opened a +newspaper which he had brought away with him from the Consulate, and +began to read it without troubling to ask her permission. + +As the paper hid his perfectly expressionless face she ventured to +glance at it from time to time. It was the _New York Herald_ and on the +sheet turned toward her she was perfectly able to read something that +interested her and sent faint shivers creeping over her as she ended it: + + PASSPORT REFORM STIRS AMERICANS + ABROAD AND DEALS HARD + BLOW TO SPIES + + CITIZENS OF THE UNITED STATES RECOGNIZE NECESSITY + FOR NEW ORDER, BUT DEMAND TO + KNOW WHO WAS RESPONSIBLE FOR + ISSUANCE OF FRAUDULENT PAPERS + + [Special Cable to the Herald] + + Herald Bureau, + No. 130 Fleet Street, + London, Tuesday. + + The United States Government's sweeping new order requiring every + American travelling in Europe to go through a cross-examination + before an American diplomatic or consular officer came as a bolt + from the blue today. It caused widespread comment, though it is + recognized that the measure is necessary to checkmate German + spies impersonating American travellers. + + There is no criticism of this drastic order, which it is + recognized is probably issued to comply with Sir Edward Grey's + communication concerning German secret agents posing as American + citizens. But many Americans want to know who is responsible for + the apparent wholesale issuance of fraudulent American passports + to Germans. The result is that now an American passport is not + worth the paper it is written on unless backed up by a + photograph of the bearer, a description of where he is going, + what he is going for, how long he is going to stay and so forth. + + American embassies in European capitals today are circulating + broadcast warnings to all Americans to consult the nearest + diplomatic or consular officer before undertaking any voyage. + + All Americans must understand that henceforth a passport does + not mean permission to travel in Europe. They must have written + and vouched for proof that they are not German spies before they + can feel safe. + + It is all the result of too free issuance of American passports + at the outbreak of the war, coupled with German quickness to + profit by American leniency in this respect. + +Before the train started a commissionaire appeared, hurrying. He opened +the door of their compartment, set a pretty basket inside, which was to +be removed at the first station beyond. + +The basket contained a very delicious luncheon, and Karen looked up +shyly but gratefully as Guild set about unpacking the various dishes. +There was salad, chicken, rolls and butter, a pâté, some very wonderful +pastry, fruit, and a bottle of Moselle that looked like liquid sunshine. + +There was one pasteboard box which Guild gave to her without opening it. +She untied the violet ribbon, opened it, sat silent. He seemed to pay no +attention to what she was doing. + +After a moment she lifted out the cluster of violet-scented orchids, +drew the long pin from them, and fastened them to her blouse. + +"Thank you--very much," she said shyly. + +"Do you care for orchids?" + +"Yes ... I am a little--surprised." + +"Why?" + +"That you should--think to offer them--to _me_----" + +He looked up, and his grey eyes seemed to be laughing, but his +mouth--that perplexing, humorous, inscrutable mouth of his remained +grave and determined. + +"Karen," he said, "if you only understood how much I do like you, you +wouldn't perhaps deal so mercilessly with me." + +"I? Merciless?" + +"You are. You made me use force with you when you should not have +resisted. And now you have done something more merciless yet." + +"W--what, Kervyn?" + +"You know ... I must have those papers." + +"Kervyn!" + +"Dear--look at me. No--in the eyes. Now look at me while I say, as +seriously and as gently as I know how, that _I am going to have those +papers_!... You know I mean what I say.... That is all--dear." + +Her eyes fell and she looked at her orchids. + +"Why do you speak that way to me--after giving me these?" + +"What have orchids to do with a man's duty?" + +"Why did you give them to me?" + +"Why? Because we are friends, if you will let us be." + +"I was willing--am still--in spite of--everything. You know I am. If I +can forgive you what you did to me in our stateroom last night, surely, +surely Kervyn, you won't take any more chances with my forgiveness--will +you?" + +He said: "I shall have to if you force me to it. Karen--I never liked +any woman as much as I like you. We have known each other two days and a +night. But in that time we both have lived a long, long time." + +She nodded, thoughtfully. + +"Then--you know me now as well as you ever will know me. Better than any +other woman has ever known me. When my mind is made up that a certain +thing is to be done, I always try to do it, Karen.... And I know that I +ought to have those papers.... And that I am going to have them. Is that +clear--Karen, dear?" + +She remained silent, brushing her orchids with her finger-tips, +absent-eyed, serene. After a moment he thought that the ghost of a smile +was hovering on her lips, but he was not sure. + +Presently she looked up: + +"Shall we lunch?" she asked. + + + + + CHAPTER XIII + + THE DAY OF WRATH + + +Three times they were obliged to change cars after passing through +Utrecht. Night fell; the last compartment into which they had been +crowded was filled with Dutch cavalry officers, big, talkative fellows +in their field uniforms and jingling equipments, civil to Guild, +courteous to Karen, and all intensely interested in the New York +newspaper which Guild offered them and which they all appeared to be +quite able to read. + +They all got out at Maastricht, where the lantern-lit platform was +thronged with soldiers; and, when the train started, the two were alone +together once more. + +They had been seated side by side when the officers were occupying the +compartment; they remained so when the train rolled out of the station, +neither offering to move, perhaps not thinking to move. + +Karen's Tauchnitz novel lay open on her lap, her eyes brooded over the +pages, but the light was very dim and presently she lay back, resting +her arm on the upholstered window ledge. + +Guild had been sitting so very still beside her that she suspected he +was asleep. And when she was sure of it she permitted herself closer +scrutiny of his features than she had ever ventured. + +Curiosity was uppermost. To inspect at her leisure a man who had so +stirred, so dominated, so ruled and misruled her was most interesting. + +He looked very boyish, she thought, as he lay there--very clear cut and +yellow-haired--very kind--except for the rather square contour of the +chin. But the mouth had relaxed from its sternly quiet curve into +pleasant lines. + +One hand lay on his knees; it was clenched; the other rested inert on +the cushioned seat beside her, listless, harmless. + +Was that the hand of iron that had closed around her shoulders, pinning +both her arms helpless? Were these the hands that had mastered her +without effort--the hands which had taken what they chose to take, +gently violent, unhurried, methodical and inexorable? + +How was it that her swift hatred had not endured in the wake of this +insolent outrage? Never before had a hand been laid on her in +violence--not even in reproof. How was it that she had endured this? +Every womanly instinct had been outraged. How was it that she was +enduring it still?--acquiescing in this man's presence here in the same +compartment with her--close beside her? She had resented the +humiliation. She resented it still, fiercely--when she remembered it. +Why didn't she remember it more frequently? Why didn't she think of it +every time she looked at him? What was the trouble with her anger that +she seemed to forget so often that she had ever been angry? + +Was she spiritless? Had his violence then crippled her pride forever? +Was this endurance, this submission, this tacit condoning of an +unforgivable offense to continue? + +There was colour in her cheeks now as she sat there gazing at him and +remembering her wrongs, and industriously fanning the rather sickly +flames of her wrath into something resembling a reasonable glow. + +But more fuel seemed to be needed for that; the mental search for it +seemed to require a slight effort. But she made it and found her +fuel--and a brighter colour stained her face. + +Dared he lay hands on her again! What did his recent threat mean? He was +aware that she had sewed the papers to her clothing. What did he mean by +warning her that he would take them by violence again if necessary? It +was unthinkable! inconceivable! She shivered unconsciously and cast a +rather scared glance at him--this man was not a Hun! She was no Sabine! +The era of Pluto and Proserpine had perhaps been comprehensible +considering the times--even picturesque, if the galleries of Europe +correctly reflected the episode. But such things were not done in 1914. + +They were not only not done but the mere menace of them was +monstrous--unbelievably brutal. She needed more fuel, caught her breath, +and cast about for it to stoke the flames before her flushed cheeks +could cool. + +And to think--to _think_ that she, Karen, was actually at that moment +wearing his orchids--here at her breast! Her gloved hand clenched and +she made a gesture as though to tear the blossoms from her person.... +And did not.... They were so delicate, so fresh, so fragrant.... After +all the flowers were innocent. It was not these lovely, scented little +things she should scorn and punish but the man--this man here asleep +beside her---- + +Her heart almost ceased for a moment; he moved, opened his eyes, and lay +looking at her, his lids still heavy with sleep. + +"You are horribly tired--aren't you?" she faltered, looking into his +worn face which two days' lack of sleep had made haggard. + +He nodded, watching her. + +"I'll move across the way and let you stretch out," he said. + +"No--you need not." + +"You look dead tired." + +"I couldn't sleep that way. You--need not--move." + +He nodded; his eyes closed. After he had been asleep a little while, +watching him, she wondered what he might be dreaming, for a ghost of a +smile edged his lips. + +Then, sleeping, his arm moved, encircled her, drew her shoulder against +his. And she found herself yielding, guided, relaxing, assenting, until +her cheek lay against his shoulder, resting there. And after a while her +eyes closed. + +The fuel had given out. After a little while the last spark died. And +she slept. + + + + + CHAPTER XIV + + HER ENEMY + + +The dim light fell on them where they slept seated upright, unconscious, +swaying as the car swayed. Unseen forests swept past on either side +under a dark sky set with stars; low mountains loomed in the night, +little rivers sparkled under trestles for a second and vanished in the +dull roar of the rushing train. + +The man, sunk back against the upholstered seat, lay as though dead. + +But after a while the girl dreamed. It was the frontier toward which +they were rushing through the night--a broad white road running between +meadows set with flowers, such as she had often seen. + +Two painted sentry boxes stood on either side of the boundary; the one +on her side was empty, but in the other she realized that her enemy was +on guard, hidden, watching her. + +She desired to cross. In all her life never had she so longed for +anything as she longed to cross that still, sunny, flower-bordered +frontier. + +She dared not. Her enemy stood hidden, armed, watching her from within +that painted sentry box. She knew it. She was afraid. She knew that her +enemy would step out with weapon levelled and challenge her the instant +she set foot across that flowering frontier. She was afraid of his +challenge, afraid even to learn what her enemy might look like. + +Yet she _must_ cross. Something had to be done--something had to be done +while the sun was shining and the breeze in the meadow set the flowers +all swaying. She looked desperately at the silent sentry box. Nothing +moved. Yet she knew her enemy was watching her. + +Then, frightened, she set one foot across the line--took one more step, +very timidly. + +"_Halt! Who goes there?_" + +She knew it--she _knew_ it! It had come--it had happened to her at last! + +"F-friend!" she faltered--"but I do not know the countersign." + +"_Pass, friend, without the countersign!_" + +Could she believe her ears! + +She listened again, her hand resting against her heart. But she only +heard a child laughing inside the sentry box, and the smothered ruffle +of preening wings. + +Her dream partly awoke her; she lay very still, vaguely conscious of +where her cheek was resting, then closed her eyes to seek her enemy +again among her dreams. + + + + + CHAPTER XV + + IN CONFIDENCE + + +They awoke with a light shining in their eyes; the guard stood on the +running rail, one hand on the knob of the door. + +"The frontier," he said. "Descend if you please for the customs, and +kindly have your papers ready." + +The girl's blue eyes were sleepy and humorous as she rested her hand on +his arm to rise. + +"Are we ever to have a good night's sleep again?" she murmured as he +aided her to descend in the lantern-lit darkness. + +"It's our punishment," he said. + +"For what, please?" + +"For ever doubting each other." + +She said nothing. A soldier picked up their luggage and carried it +across the platform where another train stood waiting. + +And all at once Guild realized that the soldiers around the station and +custom-house were not Belgians but Germans. He had forgotten that, and +it gave him a distinct shock. + +As he and Karen, following the soldier, entered the long room in the +custom-house, an officer all in sea-grey from the shrouded spike on his +helmet to his ankles came forward and saluted; and Guild coolly lifted +his cap. + +"Have I by chance the honour of addressing Herr Guild?" asked the +officer. + +"I am Herr Guild." + +"And--gnädiges Fräulein?"--at salute and very rigid. + +"Fräulein Girard." + +"The gracious young lady has credentials?--a ring, perhaps?" + +Karen drew off her glove, slipped the ring from her finger. A soldier +held up a lantern; the lieutenant adjusted a single eye-glass, +scrutinized the ring, returned it with a tight-waisted bow. + +"Papers in order!" he said, turning to the customs officials. "Pass that +luggage without inspection!" + +He was very polite. He escorted them to the Belgian train, found an +empty compartment for them, thanked them with empressement, and retired +into the darkness which had hatched him. + +As the train started Karen said in a low voice: "Would you care to call +that officer a barbarian, Kervyn?" + +"You haven't seen Louvain. But probably that officer has--through his +monocle." + +She sighed. "Are we to--differ again? I am _so_ sleepy." + +This time he was entirely awake and responsible for his actions. So was +she. But she was really very tired, she remembered, when conscience +began to make her uncomfortable and call her to account. + +But she was too weary to argue the point; her cheek rested unstirring +against his shoulder; once or twice her eyes opened vaguely, and her +hand crept toward the orchids at her breast. But they had not been +crushed. Her white lids closed again. It was unfortunate that she felt +no desire to sleep. Her conscience continued to meddle at intervals, +too. + +But of one thing she was quite certain--she would not have tolerated any +such thing very long had she not been very sure that he had immediately +gone to sleep.... And she was afraid that if she stirred he might +awake.... And perhaps might not be able to go to sleep again.... He +needed sleep. She told herself this several times. + +"Karen?" + +"What?" she said in consternation. And she felt her cheeks growing hot. + +"You _will_ let me have those papers, won't you?" + +She lay very still against his shoulder. + +"Won't you?" he repeated in a low and very gentle voice. + +"Please sleep," she said in a voice as low. + +"Won't you answer me?" + +"You need sleep _so_ much!" + +"Please answer me, Karen." + +"You know," she said, "that unless you let me sleep I--couldn't +rest--like this. Don't you?" + +"Are you not comfortable?" + +"Yes.... But that has nothing to do with it. You know it." + +He murmured something which she did not catch. + +"I don't _care_ to rest this way if we are going to remain awake," she +whispered. + +"I am asleep," he replied, drowsily. + +Whether or not he was, she could not be certain even after a long while. +But, in argument with her conscience again, she thought she ought to +take the chance that he was asleep because, if he were, it would be +inhuman of her to lift her head and arouse him. + +Meanwhile the train moved ahead at a fair speed, not very fast, but +without stopping. Other trains gave it right of way, hissing on +sidings--even military and supply trains which operated within the zone +controlled by General von Reiter's division. The locomotive carried +several lanterns of various colours. They were sufficient to clear the +track for that train through that strip of Belgium to the Luxembourg +frontier. + +Hills, woods, mountain streams, stretches of ferny uplands, gullies set +with beech and hazel flew by under the watching stars. + +Over the fields to the west lay what had been Liège. But they swung east +through Herve, past Ensival, then south by Theux, Stavelot, over the +headwaters of the Ourthe. + +Forest trees almost swept the window panes at times; lonely hamlets lay +unlighted in darkened valleys. Karen's blue eyes were shut and she did +not see these things. As for Guild he lay very still, wondering how he +was to get the papers--wondering, too, what it was about this girl that +was making this headlong, nerve-racking quest of his the most +interesting and most wonderful journey he had ever undertaken. + +They were not asleep, but they should have been. And in separate +corners. Conscience was explaining this to her and she was really trying +to find relief in sleep. Conscience was less intrusive with him, except +in regard to the papers. And when it had nagged him enough he ceased +wondering how he was going to get them and merely admitted that he would +do it. + +And this self-knowledge disturbed him so that he could scarcely endure +to think of the matter and of what must happen to their friendship in +the end. Sorrow, dismay, tenderness possessed him by turns. She seemed +like a slumbering child there on his shoulder, softly fragrant, +trustful, pathetic. And he was pledged to a thing that might tear the +veil from her eyes--horrify her, crush her confidence in man. + +"I can bribe a couple of old women," he thought miserably--"but it's +almost as bad as though I did it myself. Good Heavens!--was a man ever +before placed in such a predicament?" + +And when he couldn't stand his horrid reflections any longer he said, +"Karen?" again. So humbly, so unhappily that the girl opened her blue +eyes very wide and listened with all her might. + +"Karen," he said, "in a comparatively short time you won't listen to me +at all--you won't tolerate me. And before that time is upon us, I--I +want to say a--few--words to you ... about how deeply I value our +friendship.... And about my very real respect and admiration for you.... +You won't let me say it, soon. You won't care to hear it. You will scorn +the very mention of my name--hate me, possibly--no, probably.... And so +now--before I have irrevocably angered you--before I have incurred +your--dislike--I want to say--if I may--that I--never was as unhappy in +all my life." + +Lying very still against his shoulder she thought: "He does not really +mean to do it." + +"Karen," he went on, "if you don't find it in your heart to spare me +this--duty--how can I spare myself?" + +She thought: "He _does_ mean to do it." + +"And yet--and yet----" + +"He won't do it!" she thought. + +"There never has been a coward in my race!" he said more calmly. + +"He _does_ mean to do it!" she thought. "He is a barbarian, a Hun, a +Visigoth, a savage! He is a brute, all through. And I--I don't know what +I am becoming--resting here--listening to such--such infamy from him! I +don't know what is going to become of me--I don't--I _don't!_" + +She caught her breath like a hurt child, hot tears welled up; she turned +and buried her face against his arm, overwhelmed by her own toleration +of herself and the man she was learning so quickly to endure, to fear, +and to care for with all the capacity of a heart and mind that had never +before submitted one atom of either mind or heart to any man. + +What had happened to her? What possessed her? What was bewitching her +that from the first instant she had laid eyes on him she seemed to +realize she belonged with him--beside him! And now--now a more +terrifying knowledge threatened, menaced her--the vague, obscure, +formless idea that she belonged to him. + +Did it mean she was in love! Was _this_ love? It couldn't be. Love came +differently. It was a happiness, a delight, a firm and abiding faith, a +sunburst of self-revelation and self-knowledge. It wasn't tears and +conscience and bewilderment, and self-reproach--and a haunting fear of +self--and a constantly throttled dismay at her own capability for +informality--the informality, for example, of her present attitude! And +she wept anew at her own astounding degradation. + +Love? No, indeed. But a dreadful, unaccountable exposure of her own +unaccountable capacity for familiarity! That was it. She was +common--common at heart, common by instinct. She had thought she had a +will of her own. It seemed she had not. She had nothing!--nothing +admirable in her--neither quality nor fineness nor courage nor +intellect. It must be so, or how could she be where she was, blotting +her tears against the shoulder of a man she had known two days!--biting +at her quivering lip in silence there, miserable, bewildered, +lonely--lonely beyond belief. + +"Karen?" + +She made the effort, failed, tried again: + +"Yes," she managed to say. + +"Don't cry any more." + +"No." + +"Because I don't mean to make you unhappy." + +"No-o----" + +"But I must have those papers--mustn't I?" + +"Y-yes." + +"But you are not going to give them to me, are you?" + +"No-o." + +"And I am not going to--to tear you to pieces, am I?" + +"No-o-o----" + +"And yet I _must_ have them, mustn't I?" + +"Yes." + +"You know I am going to get them, don't you?" + +"Yes." + +"How do you think I am going to do it?" + +"I d-don't know." + +"I think I know one way." + +She remained silent. + +"It is quite a wonderful way ... if it could occur--happen, come about." + +She said nothing. + +"I don't know--I don't know--I won't think about it any more ... for a +while.... It's too important to think about ... in that way ... if it is +going to be important at all.... I don't know exactly what I'm saying, +Karen. I seem to be thinking out loud.... The idea came ... and then +remained.... You won't cry any more, will you?" + +"No." + +"I frightened you, didn't I?" + +"No.... Yes.... Not exactly." + +"You know," he said, "I don't understand you." + +"Don't you?" + +"Not clearly.... Do you care a little for me, still?" + +"I don't know--how I feel." + +"Could you care for me--be friends again--as naturally and as honestly +as you were once?" + +"I--trusted you. Friendship is trust." + +"I know. I have destroyed your confidence." + +"Yes--my confidence in friendship." + +"That is a terrible thing to do," he said miserably. + +"Yes. Friendship ends when distrust begins. I do distrust you and I +don't understand why--why distrusting you makes me care for you--even +more." + +"Karen!" + +"I do care--more than I did. Can you explain it?" + +He was silent, surprised and touched. + +"I can't explain it to myself," she said. "I have been trying to and I +can't. I should detest you, but I don't. If there is any contempt it is +for myself--because I can not feel it for you, perhaps. I think it's +that. I don't know. The years we have lived together in these two days +must account for my liking you.... Not altogether, because it began in +the beginning when you came to Hyacinth Villa.... And it's been so all +the time." + +"Not all the time. Not in our stateroom." + +"Yes--even there." + +"When I----" + +"Yes! Yes! Isn't it degrading? Isn't it unaccountable--terrible! I'm +frightened I tell you. I am afraid that whatever you do--will +not--change me." + +There was no emotion in her young voice, only an accentless admission of +facts with a candour and directness that silenced him. + +After a moment she went on, without emphasis, and thoughtfully, as +though in self-communion to make things clearer to herself: + +"I'm really well born. You might be pardoned for not thinking so----" + +"Your father is of that caste." + +"General von Reiter is not my father." + +"What!" he exclaimed, astounded. + +She turned her face from his shoulder and looked up at him. + +"He spoke to you of me as his daughter. You spoke to me of him in that +relation, too. I did not enlighten you because it did not seem to +matter. But it is not true." + +"Is he--your guardian?" + +"No; I need none. My father was a German officer--of that caste. My +mother was Danish.... Something happened--I do not know what. I was very +little. And my mother would never speak of it. She was very beautiful. I +remember her quite well. We lived in Copenhagen. + +"Whatever happened occurred before I was born. I know that. Mother told +me. My father dropped both title and name and left the army and went +with my mother to Copenhagen. He took the name of his mother who was +English--Girard. I never was even told what our name had been. Neither +father nor mother would ever speak of it." + +She rested there silent, absent-eyed, gazing into space as though +recalling years that had not been unpleasant. Then, serenely meeting his +gaze, she smiled up at him. + +"You know," she said, "my life has been a happy one. My father was a man +of means. We lived very happily in Denmark. I've always thought of +myself as Danish. + +"My childhood was really wonderful. I had a passion for study, for +learning; and I learn very easily--almost without effort. And you know, +perhaps, how thorough the Danish schools are, how much they demand of a +child, physically as well as mentally. + +"And I did everything, Kervyn; learned the accomplishments of a young +Danish girl--and was flattered I am afraid, and perhaps spoiled. + +"And always I desired to go on the stage--always--from the very +beginning--from the time I was first taken to the theatre. + +"It was quite hopeless. I did act for charity, and at school; and +afterward took lessons. But as long as my father and mother lived that +career was not possible.... Afterward I decided for myself. And first I +went to Germany and they gave me a small part in a company that was +going to Posen. And there General von Reiter, who had been my father's +friend and brother-officer, met me. + +"He was very kind. He wished to adopt me and give me his name. He was +very insistent, too--a man--Kervyn, not unlike you--in some respects. +But I never dreamed of permitting him to sway me--as you do. + +"He knew my desire for a stage career; he has for three years attempted +to destroy in me that desire. When I had no engagement, or was studying, +he insisted that I stay with his brother and his brother's wife, with +whom he lived. He spoke freely of his desire and intention of legally +adopting me, called me his daughter when he spoke to others of me--and +always I felt the constant, iron pressure of his will--always--not +harshly, but with the kindly patience of resolution. + +"Then I decided to go to England, study, and if possible gain some +experience on the London stage. + +"And then"--she bit her lip--"I think I may say it--to _you_--not saying +it lightly, Kervyn--then, on the eve of my departure, he asked me to +marry him. + +"And because he would not accept my answer he exacted of me a promise +that in November I would return to Berlin, give him my final answer, and +choose then between marrying him or a return to the profession I care +for most. + +"That is my history, Kervyn. No man has ever figured in it; none except +General Baron von Reiter has ever even invaded it ... until you have +done so ... and have made your wishes mine--I don't know how--and your +will my inclination--and me more than the friend I was. + +"One thing only you could not do--and in my heart I know you do not wish +it of me--and that is, make me break my word--make me forget a promise. + +"Now I have told you all," she said with a little sigh, and lay there +looking at him. + +"Not all, Karen." + +"Yes, I think so." + +"No. You have not told me what answer you mean to make." + +Her eyes opened at that. "I am not in love. What answer should I make?" + +"You return to your career?" + +"Of course, once my promise is kept." + +"What promise?" + +"To see him and tell him what I have decided." + +"Do you think he might persuade you?" + +"No!" + +"Are you sure?" + +"Perfectly." + +He said, looking at her with a hint of a smile in his eyes: "Do you +think I might ever persuade you to give up your career?" + +She smiled frankly: "I don't think so." + +"Not if I asked?" + +"You wouldn't do such a thing." + +"I might if I fell in love with you." + +She lay perfectly still, quite tranquil, looking up at him. Suddenly her +expression changed. + +"Is it likely?" she said, the tint of excitement in her cheeks. + +"Do you think so?" + +"I don't know. Is it?" + +"It's perfectly possible I imagine." + +"That you could fall in love with me?" + +"Yes." + +After a moment she laughed as a child laughs at the prospect of +beholding wonders. + +"Kervyn," she said, "please do so. I will give you every opportunity if +you will remain at Trois Fontaines." + +"I mean to remain in that vicinity," he said, meaningly; and she laughed +again, deliciously, almost maliciously. + +"It would finish you thoroughly," she said. "It would be poetic justice +with a vengeance." + +"_Your_ vengeance?" + +"Yes, mine. Oh, if you only _did_ do that!" + +"I think, considering the way you look at it, that I'd better not," he +said, rather seriously. "Besides, I've no time." + +"No time to fall in love with me?" + +"No time." + +"Why?" + +"Shall I tell you?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Very well. Because after I have the papers I shall enter the Belgian +army." He added with a hint of impatience--"Where I belong and where I +ought to be now." + +She became very silent at that. After a few moments she said: "Had you +decided to do that before I met you?" + +"Yes. I was on my way--trying to avoid the very trap I fell into." + +"The German army?" + +"Yes." + +After another silence she said: "I shall be very sorry when you go. I +shall think of you when I am in England." + +"You can't go back to England, Karen." + +"That is true. I forgot." + +"Where will you go?" + +"I don't know." + +"Don't go to Germany." + +"Why?" + +"There may be an invasion." + +She had lifted her head as he spoke. After a moment she sighed like a +tired child, laid her head back on his arm and rested one slender hand +on his shoulder. + +It suddenly seemed to her that the world, which had been going very well +with her, had halted, and was beginning to go the other way. + +"Kervyn?" + +"Yes?" + +"You could take the papers when I am asleep, I suppose. I couldn't help +it, could I?" + +"That _is_ one way," he said, smiling. + +"What was the other?" + +He did not reply. + +She sighed again. "I suggested it," she said, "in order to give you a +little more time to do--what you said you thought--possible." + +"Fall in love?" he asked lightly. "Yes." + +"What would be the use, Karen?" + +"Use?" + +"Yes. I'm going into the army. It will be a long war. If I fell in love +with you I'd not have time to win your love in return before I went +away--admitting that I could ever win it. Do you see?" + +"I quite see that." + +"So I had better take the papers when I can, and get into touch with the +reserves of my regiment if I can." + +"What regiment?" + +"The Guides." + +"The Guides! Are you an officer?" + +"Yes, of the reserve." + +She knew quite well what that meant. Only the Belgian nobility of +ancient lineage served as officers in the Guides. + +A happiness, a wonderful tranquillity crept over her. No wonder she had +found it difficult to really reproach herself with her behaviour. And it +was a most heavenly comfort to her to know that if she had been +indiscreet, at least she had been misbehaving with one of her own caste. + + * * * * * + +"The next station," said the German guard, squinting in at them from the +window under his lifted lantern, "is Trois Fontaines." + +"What!" exclaimed Guild surprised. "Have we passed the customs?" + +"The customs? This is a German military train! What business is it of +the Grand Duchy where we go or what we do?" + +He lowered his lantern and turned away along the running-board, +muttering: "Customs, indeed! The Grand Duchy had better mind its +business--and the Grand Duchess, too!" + +A few moments later the locomotive whistled a long signal note to the +unseen station. + +"Karen," said Guild quietly, "in a few moments I shall be out of debt to +General von Reiter. My life will be my own to do with as I please. That +means good-bye." + +She said with adorable malice: "I thought you were going to rob me +first." + +"I am," he said, smiling. + +"Then I shall make the crime a very difficult one for you.... So that +our--parting--may be deferred." + +The train had already come to a standstill beside a little red-tiled +station. Woods surrounded it; nothing was visible except the lamps on a +light station-wagon drawn up to the right of the track. + +The guard unlocked and opened their compartment. A young man--a mere +boy--came up smilingly and lifted his cap: + +"Mademoiselle Girard? Monsieur Guild? I come from Quellenheim with a +carriage. I am Fritz Bergner." + +He took their luggage and they followed to the covered station-wagon. +When they were seated the boy stepped into the front seat, turned his +horses, and they trotted away into the darkness of a forest through +which ran the widely winding road. + +Fresh and aromatic with autumn perfume the unbroken woods stretched away +on either hand beneath the splendour of the stars. Under little stone +bridges streams darkled, hurrying to the valley; a lake glimmered +through the trees all lustrous in the starlight. + +Something--perhaps the beauty of the night, possibly the imminence of +his departure, kept them silent during the drive, until, at last, two +unlighted gate-posts loomed up to the right and the horses swung through +a pair of iron gates and up a driveway full of early fallen leaves. + +A single light sparkled far at the end of the vista. + +"Have you ever before been here?" asked Guild. + +"Once, to a hunt." + +Presently Guild could see the long, two-storied hunting lodge of timber +and stucco construction with its high peaked roof and dormers and a +great pair of antlers spreading above the hood of the door. + +Out of the doorway came a stout, pleasant-eyed, brown-skinned woman who +curtsied to them smilingly and welcomed them in German. + +Everything was ready; they had been expected. There was a fire in the +hall and something to eat. + +Guild asked to be driven to an inn, and the housekeeper seemed +surprised. There was no inn. Her orders were to prepare a room for Herr +Guild, who was expected to remain over night. She regretted that she +could not make them more comfortable, but the Lodge had been closed all +summer, and she had remained alone with her son Fritzl to care for the +place. + +There seemed to be nothing for him to do but to stay over night. + +Karen, waiting for his decision, looked pale and tired. + +"Very well," he said to Frau Bergner, who curtsied and went away for +their candles. Then he walked over to where Karen was standing, lifted +her hand and touched the slender fingers with his lips. + +"Good night," she said; "I hope your dreams will be agreeable." + +"I hope yours will be, also." + +"I hope so. I shall try to continue a dream which I had on the train. It +was an odd one--something about a frontier and a sentry box. You woke me +before I had entirely crossed the frontier. I'd like to cross and find +out what really is on the other side." + +He laughed: + +"I hope you will find, there, whatever you desire." + +"I--hope so. Because if I should cross the boundary and +find--nobody--there, it might make me unhappy for the rest of my life." +And she looked up at him with a slight blush on her cheeks. + +Then her features grew grave, her eyes serious, clear, and wistful. + +"I think I am--learning to care--a great deal for you. Don't let me if I +shouldn't. Tell me while there is time." + +She turned as the housekeeper came with the lighted candles. + +Guild stood aside for her to pass, his grave face lowered, silent before +this young girl's candour and the troubled sincerity of her avowal. + +In his own room, the lighted candle still in his hand, he stood +motionless, brooding on what she had said. + +And in his heart he knew that, although he had never liked any woman as +much as he liked this young girl, he was not in love with her. And, +somehow or other, he must tell her so--while there was still time. + + + + + CHAPTER XVI + + THE FOREST LISTENS + + +He awoke in a flood of brightest sunshine; his bed, the floor, the +walls, were bathed in it; netted reflections of water danced and +quivered on the ceiling; and he lay looking at it, pleasantly conscious +of green leaves stirring near his open window and of the golden +splashing of a fountain. + +There was a little bird out there, too, diligently practicing a few +notes. The song was not elaborate. Translated, it seemed to consist of +tweet! tweet! twilly-willy-willy! repeated an indefinite number of +times. + +Curious to discover what his surroundings resembled he rose and looked +out of the curtained window. There was a grassy carrefour where a +fountain spouted into a stone pool; all else was forest; a stream +sparkled between tree-trunks, bridged where the drive crossed it. + +To bathe and dress did not take him very long. In the hall, which seemed +to be the main living-room below, he prowled about, examining a number +of antlers and boar-heads mounted on the beamed and plastered walls. The +former had been set up in German fashion, antlers, brow-antlers, and +frontal bone; and these trophies appeared to him uninteresting--even a +trifle ghastly when the bleached skull also was included. + +The boars' heads were better, nothing extraordinary in size, but +well-tusked. The taxidermy, however, was wretched. + +The square hall itself did not appear particularly inviting. The usual +long oak table and benches were there, a number of leather arm-chairs, +book-racks, cue-racks, gun-racks with glazed panes to protect the +weapons, a festoon of spears, hunting knives and curly hunting horns, +skins on the floor, brown bear, wolf, and stag. + +A badly stuffed otter displayed its teeth on the mantle over the +fireplace between a pair of fighting cock pheasants and a jar of alcohol +containing a large viper, which embellishments did not add to the +cheerfulness of the place. + +For the rest there was a billiard table shrouded in a rubber cloth, and +three well-engraved portraits on the walls, Bismarck, after Lehnbach, +Frederick the Great playing on a flute like fury, and the great War Lord +of Europe himself, mustaches on end, sombre-eyed, sullen, cased in the +magnificent steel panoply of the Guard Cuirassiers. The art gallery +bored Guild, and he opened a door which he suspected communicated with +the pantry. + +It was a valet's closet and it smelled of camphor. Shooting-coats hung +on stretchers; high-laced shooting-boots were ranged in rows. On a chair +lay Karen's skirt and blouse-coat of covert cloth. Both were still +slightly damp and wrinkled. Evidently they had been brought down here to +be brushed and pressed while Karen slept. + +Passing his hand over the brown silk lining of the coat gave him no clue +to the hiding-place of the papers; what revealed their presence was a +seam which had been hurriedly basted with black thread. The keen point +of his pocket-knife released the basting. He drew out the papers, +counted them, identified them one by one, and placed them in his breast +pocket. Then he laid the coat across the back of the chair again and +went out. + +He had two hours to wait before there could be any decent hope of +breakfast. Nobody seemed to be stirring in the house. After a few +minutes he unlocked the front door and went out into the early sunshine. + +It was as warm as a spring day; rain had freshened grass and trees; he +sat down on the fountain's rim and looked into the pool where a dozen +trout lay motionless, their fins winnowing the icy water. + +No doubt some spring, high on the wooded hills, had been piped down to +furnish the pool with this perpetually bubbling jet. + +The little bird who had entertained him vocally earlier in the morning +was still vocal somewhere in a huge beech-tree. Around a spot of +moisture on the gravel-drive two butterflies flitted incessantly. And +over all brooded the calm and exquisite silence of the forest. + +An hour or more later he got up and re-entered the house. + +First he took a look at the valet's room. Evidently Karen's clothes had +been brushed and pressed, for they had disappeared. + +Another door in the square hall promised to lead into the pantry, +judging from significant sounds within. + +It did, and the housekeeper was in there as energetically busy as every +German woman always is when occupied. And German women are always +occupied. + +The kindly soul appeared to be much flattered by his visit. They had +quite a gossiping time of it while she was preparing the breakfast +dishes. + +It was mostly a monologue. + +No, she and Fritzl were not lonely at Quellenheim, although it was +pleasant to have the Lodge open and a noble company there shooting. But, +like Marlbrook, the Herr Baron had gone to the wars--alas!--and it might +take him some time to capture Paris and London and set the remainder of +the world in order. + +But it really seemed too bad; the Herr Baron was fond of his shooting; +Fritzl had reported some good antlers in the forest, and a grey boar or +two--but enormous! As for the place it would certainly go to ruin what +with faggot stealers and godless poachers!--And the foresters, keepers, +and even the wood-choppers all gone off and deserting the place--think +of it!--the ungrateful Kerls--gone!--and doubtless to join the crazy +Belgian army which had refused to permit Prussian troops to pass! +_Prussian_ troops! The impudence of it! Gratitude! There was little of +that in the world it seemed. + +"When does the Herr Baron return here?" inquired Guild, smiling. + +It appeared that the Herr Baron was to have arrived at Quellenheim this +very week. But yesterday his adjutant telegraphed that he could not come +perhaps for many weeks. No doubt he was very busy chasing the French and +English. It was a pity; because the autumn is _wunderschön_ at +Quellenheim. And as for the deer!--they stand even in the driveway and +look at the Lodge, doubtless wondering, sir, why they are neglected by +the hunters, and asking one another why good fat venison is no longer +appreciated at Quellenheim. + +"Could you tell me where I may telegraph to the Herr Baron?" asked the +young man, immensely amused by her gossip. + +"That I can, sir. My careful household reports are sent to the Herr +Baron through military headquarters at Arenstein, Prussia. That is where +he is to be addressed." + +"And a telegraph office?" + +"At the railroad station." + +"In communication with Prussia?" + +"Yes, sir," she said with a vigorous nod. "And whenever any of the +yokels here about tamper with the wires the Uhlans come and chase them +till they think the devil is after them!" + +"Uhlans. Here?" + +"And why not? Certainly the Uhlans come occasionally. They come when it +is necessary. Also they cross the Grand Duchy when they please." + +"Then, if I write out a telegram here----" + +"Fritzl will take it, never fear, sir. Leave it on the billiard +table--any telegrams or letters--and they shall be sent when Fritzl +drives to the station." + +"Where," he inquired, "is Lesse Forest?" And could he send a messenger? + +"Lesse Forest? Why the chasse wall separates the range of the Lesse +Hills from Quellenheim. Any peasant at Trois Fontaines who possesses a +bicycle could take a message and return in an hour." + +"Do you know who leases the chasse at Lesse?" + +"Yes. Some wealthy Americans." + +So he smiled his thanks and returned to the hall. There was writing +material on the long oak table. And first of all he wrote out a brief +telegram to General von Reiter saying that he had fulfilled his promise. + +This was all he might venture to say in a telegram; the rest he embodied +in his letter to the Herr Baron: + + Having telegraphed to you, and fulfilled my enforced obligations + to the letter, I am confident that you, in your turn, will + fulfill yours, release the hostages held by your troops at + Yslemont, and spare the village any further destruction and + indemnity. + + You had made it a part of the contract that, in case you were + not at Quellenheim, I was to remain over night under your roof. + + I therefore have done so. It was not an agreeable sensation, and + your forced hospitality, you will recognize, imposes no + obligations upon an unwilling guest. + + Now, as I say, the last and least item of my indebtedness to you + is finally extinguished, and I am free once more to do what I + choose. + + I shall be a consistent enemy to your country in whatever + capacity the Belgian Government may see fit to employ me. I + shall do your country all the harm I can. Not being a public + executioner I have given the spies in your employment in London + a week's grace to clear out before I place proofs of their + identity in the hands of the British Government. + + This, I believe, closes, for the present, our personal account. + + Miss Girard is well, suffered no particular hardship, and is, I + suppose, quite safe at Quellenheim where your capable + housekeeper and her son are in charge of the Lodge. + + May I add that, personally, I entertain no animosity toward you + or toward any German, individually--only a deep and + inextinguishable hatred toward all that your Empire stands for, + and a desire to aid in the annihilation of this monstrous + anachronism of the twentieth century. + +When he had signed and sealed this, and directed it, he wrote to his +friend Darrel: + + DEAR HARRY: + + If you are at Lesse Forest still, which I understand adjoins the + hills of Quellenheim--and if your friends the Courlands still + care to ask me for a day or two, I shall be very glad to come. I + am at Quellenheim, Trois Fontaines. + + Please destroy the letter I intrusted to you to send to my + mother. Everything is all right again. I may even have time to + fish with you for a day or two. + + The messenger from Trois Fontaines who takes this will wait for + an answer. + + Please convey my respect and my very lively sense of obligation + to the Courlands. And don't let them ask me if it inconveniences + them. I can go to Luxembourg just as well and see you there if + you can run over. + + Did you get my luggage? I am wearing my last clean shirt. But my + clothes are the limit. + + If I am to stop for a day or two at the Courlands please + telegraph to Luxembourg for my luggage as soon as you receive + this. + + Yours as usual, + GUILD. + + P. S. + + Do Uhlans ever annoy the Courlands? I imagine that Lesse is too + far from the railway and too unimportant from a military + standpoint to figure at all in any operations along the edge of + the Grand Duchy. And also any of the Ardennes is unfit as a + highway between Rhenish Prussia and France. Am I correct? + + G. + +He had sealed and directed this letter, and was gazing meditatively out +of the diamond-leaded windows at the splashing fountain in the court, +when a slight sound attracted his attention and he turned, then rose and +stepped forward. + +Karen gave him her hand, smiling. In the other hand she held the last of +her orchids. + +"Are you rested?" he asked. + +"Yes. Are you?" + +"Perfectly, thank you. Really it is beautiful outside the house." + +She lifted her lovely eyes and stood gazing out into the sunshine. + +"There is no word from General von Reiter?" she asked, absently +caressing her cheek with the fragrant blossom in her hand. + +"Not yet," he said. + +"If none comes, what are you going to do?" + +"I am free, anyhow, to leave now." + +"Free?" + +"Free of my engagement with Baron von Reiter." + +"Free of your obligations to--_me_?" she asked in a low voice. + +He turned to her seriously: "My allegiance to you needs no renewal, +Karen, because it has never been broken. You have my friendship if you +wish for it. It is yours always as long as you care for it." + +"I do.... Are you going to leave--Quellenheim?" + +"Yes." + +"When?" + +"When a messenger brings me an answer to a letter which I shall send +this morning." + +She stood caressing her lips with his flower and gazing dreamily into +the forest. + +"So you really are going," she said. + +"I cannot help it." + +"I thought"--she forced a smile--"that you intended to rob me first." + +He did not answer. + +"Had you forgotten?" she asked, still with the forced smile. + +"No." + +"Do you still mean to do it?" + +"I told you that I had to have the papers." + +"Yes, and I told you that I should make it as difficult as I could for +you. And I'm going to. Because I don't want you to go." She laughed, +then sighed very frankly: "Of course," she added, "I don't suppose I +could keep them very long if you have made up your mind to take them." + +"Is that your idea of me?" he asked, laughing. + +She nodded, thoughtfully: "You take what you want, sooner or later. +There is no hope in opposing you. You are that kind of man. I have +learned that." + +She touched the orchid to her chin meditatively. "It surprised me," she +added. "I have not been accustomed to authority like yours. I am my own +mistress, and I supposed I was accountable to myself alone. But--" she +lifted her eyes, "it appears that I am accountable to you. And the +realization does not seem to anger me very deeply." + +He looked away: "I do not try to control you, Karen," he said in a low +voice. + +"You have done so whether or not you have tried. I don't know what has +happened to me. Do you?" + +"Nothing," he said, forcing a laugh. "Except you are learning that the +greatest pleasure of friendship is a confidence in it which nothing can +disturb." + +"Confidence in friendship--yes. But confidence in _you_!--that ended in +our stateroom. Without confidence I thought friendship impossible.... +And here I am asking you not to go away--because I--shall miss you. Will +you tell me what is the matter with a girl who has no confidence in a +man and who desires his companionship as I do yours?" Her cheeks +flushed, but her eyes were steady, bright, and intelligent: "Am I going +to fall in love with you, Kervyn?" + +He laughed mirthlessly: "No, not if you can reason with yourself about +it," he said. "It merely means that you are the finest, most honest, +most fearless woman I ever knew, capable of the most splendid +friendship, not afraid to show it. That is all it means, Karen. And I am +deeply, humbly grateful.... And very miserable.... Because----" + +The entrance of Frau Bergner with the breakfast tray checked him. They +both turned toward the long oak table. + +Fortunately the culinary school where the housekeeper had acquired her +proficiency was not German. She had learned her art in Alsace. + +So the coffee was fragrant and the omelette a dream; and there were +grapes from the kitchen arbour and ham from a larder never lacking the +succulent by-products of the _sanglier_ of the Ardennes. + +Frau Bergner took his letters and telegram, promising that Fritzl should +find somebody with a bicycle at Trois Fontaines to carry the other note +to Lesse Forest. + +She hovered over them while they ate. The breakfast was a silent one. + +Afterward Karen wrote a number of notes addressed to her modiste in +Berlin and to various people who might, in her present emergency, supply +her with something resembling a wardrobe. + +Guild had taken his pipe out to the fountain, where she could see him +through the window, seated on the coping of the pool, smoking and +tracing circles in the gravel with a broken twig. + +She hurried her notes, called the housekeeper to take them, then, +without taking hat or gloves, she went out into the sunshine. The habit, +so easily acquired, of being with Guild was becoming a necessity, and +neither to herself nor to him had it yet occurred to her to pretend +anything different. + +There was, in her, an inherent candour, which unqualified, perhaps +unsoftened by coquetry, surprises more than it attracts a man. + +But its very honesty is its undoing; it fails to hold the complex +masculine mind; its attractiveness is not permanent. For the average man +requires the subtlety of charm to stir him to sentiment; and charm means +uncertainty; and uncertainty, effort. + +No effortless conquest means more to a man than friendship. And +friendship is nothing new to a man. + +But it was new to Karen; she had opened her mind to it; she was opening +her heart to it, curious concerning it, interested as she had never +before been, sincere about it--sincere with herself. + +Never before had the girl cared for a man more than she had cared about +any woman. The women she had known had not been inferior in intelligence +to the men she knew. And a normal and wholesome mind and heart harbour +little sentiment when the mind is busy and the body sound. + +But since she had known this man she knew also that he had appealed to +something more than her intelligence. + +Vaguely realizing this in the crisis threatened by his violence, she had +warned him that he was violating something more than friendship. + +Then the episode had passed and become only an unquiet memory; but the +desire for his companionship had not passed; it increased, strengthening +itself with every hour in his company, withstanding self-analysis, +self-reproach, defying resentment, mocking her efforts to stimulate +every tradition of pride--even pride itself. + +Deeply conscious of the power his personality exercised over her, +perplexed, even bewildered at herself, she had not only endured the +intimacy of contact with him, but in her heart she accepted it, cared +for it, was conscious of relaxation and contentment except for the +constant array of traditional indictments which her conscience was +busily and automatically finding against her. + +She could not comprehend why what he had done had not annihilated her +interest in him; why she, even with effort, could find in her mind no +abiding anger, no scorn, no contempt for him or for what he had done. + +And because she was intelligent and healthy, in her perplexity she had +tried to reason--had found nothing to account for her state of mind +unless love could account for it--and knowing nothing of love, had +admitted the possibility to herself and even to him. Intelligence, +candour, ignorance of deeper emotion--coupled with the normal mental and +physical innocence of a young girl--this was the character she had been +born with and which had naturally and logically developed through +nineteen years of mental and bodily cultivation. The girl was most +fatally equipped for an awakening. + + * * * * * + +He stood up when she appeared, knocked out his pipe and advanced to meet +her. He had been doing a lot of thinking. And he had concluded to talk +very frankly to her about her friendship with him--frankly, kindly, +discouraging gaily any mistaken notion she might harbour that there +could be any room, any reason, any fitness for a deeper sentiment in +this friendship--anything more significant than the delightful and frank +affection now existing between them. + +"Shall we walk in the forest, Karen?" he said. + +"Yes, please." + +So they turned into a sentier which curved away through a fern-set +rabbit warren, over a wooden footbridge, and then led them on through +alternate flecks of sunshine and shadow through a noble forest of beech +and oak. + +The green and brown mast lay thick under-foot, premature harvest of +windfalls--perhaps the prodigality of those reckless sylvan +spendthrifts, the squirrels and jays. + +Here and there a cock-pheasant ran through a spinny at their approach; +rabbits scuttled into wastes of bracken as yet uncurled and unblemished +by a frost; distant crashes and a dull galloping signalled the unseen +flight of deer. Now and then the dark disturbance of the forest floor +betrayed where the horny, furry snouts of boar had left furrows of fresh +black earth amid the acorns. + +They came upon the stream again--or perhaps a different little brook, +splashing and curling amid its ferns and green, drenched mosses. +Stepping stones crossed it; Karen passed lightly, surely, on little +flying feet, and stood laughing on the other side as he paused to poke +about in the pool in hopes of starting a trout into arrowy flight. + +When he crossed she had seated herself under a fir, the branches of +which swept the ground around her; and so utterly had she vanished that +she was obliged to call him before he could discover her whereabouts. + +"Under this green tent," she said, "if I had a bed, and some books, and +clothes, and food, and my maid and--a piano, I could live most happily +all summer." She laughed, looked at him--"if I had all these +and--_you_," she added. + +"Why drag _me_ into such a perfect paradise?" + +"I shouldn't _drag_ you," she said gravely. "I should merely tell you +where I lived." + +"I didn't mean it that way." + +"You might have, with reason. I have demanded a great deal of your +time." + +"I have demanded all of yours!" he retorted, lightly. + +"Not more than I was content to give.... It seems all a dream to +me--which began when you rang the bell at Hyacinth Villa and roused me +from my sleep. And," she added with a gay flash of malice, "you have +kept me awake ever since." + +"And you, me!" + +"Not a bit! You slept in the railway car." + +"So did you." + +"In your arms, practically...." She looked up at him curiously: "What +did you think of me, Kervyn?" + +"I thought you were an exceedingly tired girl." + +"I was. Is that all you thought about it?" + +"You know," he said, laughing, "when a man is asleep he doesn't do much +thinking." + +"What did you think afterward?" + +"About what?" + +"About my sleeping against your shoulder?" + +"Nothing," he said carelessly. + +"Were you quite--indifferent?" + +He didn't know how to answer. + +"I was not," she said. "I was contented, and I thought continually about +our friendship--except when what I was doing made me uneasy about--what +I was doing.... Isn't it curious that a girl could do a thing like that +and feel comfortable except when she remembered that a girl doesn't +usually do a thing like that?" + +He began to laugh, and she laughed, too. + +She said: "Always my inclination has been, from a child, to explain +things to myself. But I can't explain you, yet. You are very different, +you know." + +"Not a bit----" + +"Yes, please. I've found that out.... Tell me, do you really mean to go +today?" + +"Yes, Karen, I do." + +"Couldn't you stay?" + +"I really couldn't." + +"Why, please?" + +"I must be about my business." + +"Enlistment?" + +"Yes." + +"In the Guides," she said, as though to herself. + +He nodded. + +"The Guides," she repeated, looking rather vacantly at a sun spot that +waxed and waned on the dry carpet of fir-needles at her feet. "I have +seen them. They are odd, with their furry headgear and their green +jackets and boots and cherry-red breeches.... I have danced with +officers of the Guides in Brussels.... I never thought that my first man +friend would be an officer in the Guides." + +"I never thought my best friend among women would be the first woman I +ever robbed," he said rather grimly. + +"Oh, but you haven't done it yet! And I don't see how you propose to do +it." + +He looked up, forcing a smile: + +"Don't you?" + +"Not if you are going away. How can you? The only way I can see is for +you to stay at Quellenheim in hopes that I might forget to lock my door +some night. You know," she said, almost wistfully, "I _might_ forget--if +you remained long enough." + +He shook his head. + +"Then you have given it up?" + +"No." + +"But I don't see!" + +She was so pretty in her perplexity, so utterly without art in her +frankness and curiosity that the impulse to mystify and torment her +possessed him. + +"Will you bet that I shall not have those papers in my possession within +ten minutes?" he asked. + +"How _can_ you?" + +"I can. And I shall." + +She gazed at him incredulously, then suddenly her cheeks lost their +colour and she stood up under the fir-tree. + +"Must I take them or will you give them up, Karen?" he asked, laughing, +as he rose. + +She took a step backward, away from him. The tree-trunk checked her. + +"You know I can't give them to you," she said unsteadily. "It would be +dishonourable." + +"Am I to take them?" + +"Are you going to?" + +"Do you mean to say that rather than surrender them you would endure +such violence as that?" + +"I promised.... Are you going to--to hurt me, Kervyn?" she stammered. + +"I'll try not to." + +She stood there, breathing fast, white, defiant. + +"You'll have to surrender," he said. "You might as well. It's an +honourable capitulation in the presence of superior force." + +"No." + +"You refuse?" + +"Yes, please." + +He said: "Very well, then," with an alarming frown. + +"Kervyn----" + +"What?" + +"If you tear my gown I--I shall have to go to bed." + +"I'm not going to touch your gown," he said. "I'm going to charm those +papers so they'll leave their hiding place and fly into my pocket. Watch +me very attentively, Karen!" And he tucked up his cuffs and made a few +short passes in the air. Then he smiled at her. + +"Kervyn! I thought you meant to take them. Do you know you really did +frighten me?" + +"I _have_ got them," he said. + +The colour came back into her cheeks; she smiled at him in a breathless +way. + +"You did frighten me," she said. She came slowly back and seated herself +on the carpet of fir-needles. He sat down beside her. + +"Karen, dear," he said, "you are a brick and I'm a brute. I took your +papers this morning. I _had_ to, dear." + +And he drew them from his breast pocket and showed them to her. + +The girl sat in wide-eyed amazement for a moment. Suddenly her face +flushed and the tears flashed in her eyes. + +"You have ridiculed me!" she said. "You have treated me like a child!" + +"Karen----" + +"I will not listen! I shall never listen to you again! You have played +with me, hurt me, humiliated me. You have ruled and overruled me! You +gained my friendship and treated it--and me--without ceremony. And I let +you! I must have been mad----" + +Her mouth quivered; she clenched her hands, gazing at him through eyes +that glimmered wet: + +"How could you do it? I was honest with you; I had had no experience +with a man I cared for. You knew it. You let me care for you until I +didn't understand--until the sincerity and force of what I felt for you +bewildered me! + +"And now--and now I am--unhappy--unhappy--miserable, ashamed--" She +caught her breath, scarcely able to see him through her tears--no longer +able to control the quivering lip. + +She rose swiftly, encountered something--his arm--felt herself drawn +resistlessly into his embrace. + +"Forgive me, Karen," he said. "I did not realize--what was happening +to--us both." + +She rested her forehead on his shoulder for a moment. + +"Can you forgive me, Karen?" + +"Yes." + +"You know I truly care for you?" + +"Yes." + +Scarcely knowing what he was doing, he bent to touch her forehead with +his lips, and she lifted her face at the same moment. His kiss fell on +her mouth, and she responded. At the same instant her girlhood ended +forever--vanished on her lips in a little sigh. + +Dazed, silenced, a trifle faint, she turned from him blindly. + +"Please," she whispered, in the ghost of a voice; and he released her. + +For a few moments she stood resting against the fir-tree, her left arm +across her eyes, frightened, motionless. + +The forest was very still around her, as though every leaf were +listening. + + + + + CHAPTER XVII + + HER FIRST CAMPAIGN + + +"Karen," she heard him say, in a constrained and unfamiliar voice, "I +love you." + +If he thought he was still speaking to the same girl whose soft and +fragrant lips he had touched a moment before, he was mistaken. He spoke +too late. The girl had vanished with her girlhood. + +And now it was with a very different sort of being he had to do--with a +woman whose mind had quickened under shock; whose latent emotions had +been made conscious; whose spirit, awakened by a crisis, was already +armoured and in arms. Aroused, alert, every instinct awake, proud of a +new and radiant knowledge, new motives germinated, new impulses +possessed her; a new and delicious wisdom thrilled her. She was ready, +and she realized it. + +"Karen?" + +She heard him perfectly. Deep within her something was laughing. There +was no hurry. She knew it. + +"Karen?" he said, very humbly. + +Conscious of the change within herself, still a little surprised and +excited by it, and by a vaguely exquisite sensation of impending +adventure, of perils charmingly indefinite, of the newness of it all, +deep, deep within her she felt the certainty, the tranquillity, the +sweet intoxication of power. Power! She knew she was using it now. She +knew she was exercising it on this man. And, for a second, the grasp of +the new weapon almost frightened her. For it was her first campaign. And +she had not yet reconnoitered the adversary or fully developed his +strength and position. Man, as an adversary, was still unknown to her. + +"Karen?" he ventured, rather anxiously. + +Instantly she lost a large portion of her fear of him. Oh! but she had a +long, long reckoning to settle yet with him. She cast a swift glance +backward, but already her girlhood was gone--gone with its simplicity, +its quaint perplexities, its dear ignorance, its pathos, its +helplessness before experience, its naïveté, its faith. + +It had gone, slipped away, exhaled in a deep, unconscious sigh. And +suddenly she flushed hotly, remembering his lips. Truly, truly there was +a long reckoning still to come.... But there seemed to be no hurry. + +Still leaning against the tree, she fumbled for her handkerchief, +touched her eyes with it leisurely, then, still turning her back to him, +she lifted her hands to her hair. + +For a first campaign she was doing very well. + +Her thick, burnished hair was not in any desperate disorder, but she +touched it here and there, patted, tucked, caressed it with light, swift +fingers, delicately precise as the exploring antennæ of a butterfly. + +"Give me my answer, Karen," he urged, in a low voice, stepping nearer. +Instantly she moved lightly aside to avoid him--just a short step--her +back still turned, her hands framing her bright hair. Presently she +looked around with a slight laugh, which seemed to say: "Have you +noticed my new wings? If I choose to use them, I become unattainable. +Take care, my friend!" + +The expression of her face checked him; her eyes were still starry from +tears. The dewy loveliness of them, the soft shyness born of knowledge, +the new charm of her left him silent and surprised. He had supposed that +she was rather low in her mind. Also he became aware that something +about her familiar to him had gone, that he was confronted by something +in her hitherto unsuspected and undetected--something subtly experienced +and unexpectedly mature. But that a new intelligence, made radiant by +the consciousness of power, had suddenly developed and enveloped this +young girl, and was now confronting him he did not comprehend at first. + +And yet, in her attitude, in the poise of the small head, in the slight +laugh parting her lips, in every line of her supple figure, every +contour, every movement, he was aware of a surety, a self-confidence, a +sort of serene authority utterly unfamiliar to him in her personality. + +Gone was the wistfulness, the simplicity, the indecision of immaturity, +the almost primitive candour that knows no art. Here was complexity +looking out of eyes he scarcely knew, baffling him with a beauty +indescribable. + +"Karen--dear?" he said unsteadily, "have you nothing to say to me?" + +There was laughter and curiosity in her eyes, and a hint of mockery. + +"Yes," she said, "I have a great deal to say to you. In the first place +we must not be silly any more----" + +"_Silly!_" + +She seemed surprised at his emphatic interruption. + +"Yes, silly," she repeated serenely; "foolish, inconsequential. I admit +I made a goose of myself, but that is no excuse for you to do it, too. +You are older and more experienced and _so_ much wiser----" + +"Karen!" + +"Yes?" she said innocently. + +"What has happened to you?" he asked, disturbed and bewildered. + +She opened her eyes at that: + +"Nothing has happened, has it? Is my gown torn?"--bending over to survey +her skirt and waist--"Oh, I forgot that the famous robbery occurred +without violence----" + +He reddened: "I don't understand you, Karen. Why do you fence this way +with me? Why do you speak this way to me? What has suddenly changed +you--totally altered you--altered your attitude toward me, your point of +view, your disposition--your very character apparently----" + +"My character?" she repeated with a gay little laugh which seemed to him +irresponsible, and confused him exceedingly. + +"No," he said, troubled, "that couldn't change so suddenly. But I never +before saw this side of your character. I didn't know it existed--never +supposed--dreamed----" + +"Speaking of dreams," she interrupted with calm irrelevance, "I never +told you that I finally did cross that frontier. Shall I tell you about +it while we are walking back?" + +"If you choose," he said, almost sullenly. + +"Don't you care to hear about my dream? As I made a pillow of you during +the process, I really think you are entitled to hear about it--" She +broke off with a quick, involuntary laugh: "Why do you look hurt, +Kervyn?" + +At that he became serious to the verge of gloom. + +"Come," she said sweetly, slipping her hand through his arm, "I want to +tell you how I crossed that wonderful frontier----" + +"I told you," he said gravely, "that I love you. Am I not entitled to an +answer?" + +"Entitled, Kervyn? I don't know to how many things you are _en_-titled. +All I know is that you are titled--several times--aren't you?" + +He reddened and bit his lip. + +"Because," she went on gaily, "you served your time in the Guides. That +is a very natural deduction, isn't it?" + +He said nothing; he was very seriously upset. His stern mouth and +darkened face betrayed it. And deep in Karen's heart the little imps of +laughter danced to its mischievous beating. + +After they had walked through the forest for a while in silence, she +halted and withdrew her arm. + +"You know," she said, "we are not nearly well enough acquainted for you +to be moody and unamiable." + +"I did not mean to be either," he said. "What is it that has come +between us, Karen?" + +"Why, nothing I hope," she said fervently. + +"I hope so, too.... You have been different since--" He hesitated, and +she turned her head carelessly and looked back at the little brook they +had crossed. When her blush had cooled she resumed her leisurely walk +and glanced up at him inquiringly: + +"Since _when_ have you thought me different?" + +"Since we--_kissed_----" + +"Please, Kervyn! Not _we_. I think it was you who performed that very +childish rite." + +"Is that the way you regarded it?" + +"Didn't you?" + +"No." + +"You didn't take it seriously!" she exclaimed with an enchanting laugh. +"Did you really? I'm so dreadfully sorry!" + +The dark flush on his face frightened her. It was her first campaign and +she was easily alarmed. But she was wise enough to say nothing. + +"Yes," he said with an effort, "I did take it very seriously. And I took +you seriously, too. I don't understand your new attitude toward +me--toward life itself. Until today I had never seen any lightness in +you, any mockery----" + +"Lightness? You saw plenty in me. I was not very difficult, was I?--on +the train? Not very reticent about my views concerning friendship and my +fears concerning--love. Why should you be surprised at the frivolity of +such a girl? It has taken so many years for me to learn to laugh. +Nineteen, I think. Won't you let me laugh a little, now that I know +how?" + +"Have I any influence at all with you?" he asked. "I thought I had." + +"I thought so, too," she mused, innocently. + +"What has happened to destroy it?" + +"Why, nothing, Kervyn!" opening her eyes. + +"Does any of my influence with you remain?" + +"Loads of it. Oceans! Bushels!" + +"Do you care for me?" + +"Of course! The silly question." + +"Seriously?" + +"Yes, but I don't wish to weep because I care for you." + +"Could you learn to love me?" + +"Learn? I don't know," she mused aloud, apparently much interested in +the novelty of the suggestion. "I learn some things easily; mathematics +I never could learn. _Why_ are you scowling, Kervyn?" + +"Could you ever love me?" he persisted, doggedly. + +"I don't know. Do you desire to pay your court to me?" + +"I--yes----" + +"You appear to be uncertain. It seems to me that a man ought to know +whether or not he desires to pay his addresses to a girl." + +"Can't you be serious, Karen!" + +"Indeed I can. You ought to know it, too. I was serious enough over you, +once. I followed you about so faithfully and persistently that even when +you took a nap I did it too----" + +"Karen, do you love me?" + +"I don't know." + +"Will you try?" + +"I'm always willing to try anything--once." + +"Then suppose you try marrying me, once!" he said, bluntly. + +"But oughtn't a girl to be in love before she tries that? Besides, +before I am quite free to converse with you on that subject I must +converse with someone else." + +"What!" + +"Had you forgotten?" + +"Do you mean the----" + +"Yes," she said hastily--"you _do_ remember. _That_ is a prior +engagement." + +"Engagement!" + +"An engagement to converse on the subject of engagements. I told you +about it--in the days of my communicative innocence." + +He was patient because he had to be. + +"After you have made your answer clear to him, may I ask you again?" + +"Ask me what?" + +"To marry me." + +"Wouldn't that permission depend upon what answer I may give _him_?" + +"Good Heavens!" he exclaimed, "is there any doubt about your answer to +him?" + +She lifted her eyebrows: "You are entirely too confident. Must I first +ask your permission to fulfill my obligations and then accomplish them +in a manner that suits your views? It sounds a little like dictation, +Kervyn." + +He walked beside her, cogitating in gloom and silence. Was this the girl +he had known? Was this the same ungrateful and capricious creature upon +whom he had bestowed his protection, his personal interest, his anxious +thoughts? + +That he had fallen in love with her had surprised him, but it did not +apparently surprise her. Had she instinctively foreseen what was going +to happen to him? Had she deliberately watched the process with wise and +feminine curiosity, coolly keeping her own skirts clear? + +And the more he cogitated, the deeper and more complex appeared to him +her intuitive and merciless knowledge of man. + +Never had he beheld such lightning change in a woman. It couldn't be a +change; all this calm self-possession, all the cool badinage, all this +gaiety, this laughing malice, this serene capacity for appraising man +and his motives must have existed in her--hidden, not latent; concealed, +not embryotic! + +He was illogical and perfectly masculine. + +She was only a young girl, awakened, and making her first campaign. + + + + + CHAPTER XVIII + + LESSE FOREST + + +As they came out of the forest and crossed the grassy circle where the +fountain was splashing they saw an automobile standing in the drive by +the front door. + +"What does that mean?" exclaimed Guild, under his breath. + +Both had halted, checked by the same impulse. + +"Is it likely to be Baron von Reiter?" he asked, coldly. + +She said, with admirable composure: "Whoever it is, we shall have to go +in." + +"Yes, of course.... But if it happens to be the Baron----" + +"Well?" she asked, looking away from him. + +"In that event, have you nothing to say to me--_now_?" + +"Not now." + +"Haven't you, Karen?" + +She shook her head, gazing steadily away from him. + +"All right," he said, controlling his voice; "then I can make my adieux +to you indoors as well as here." + +"Are you leaving immediately?" + +"Yes. I should have left this morning." + +After a moment's silence: "Shall I hear from you?" + +"Have I your permission to write--if I can do so?" + +"I don't know yet. I shall write you first. Are you to be at Lesse +Forest for a few days?" + +"Yes. A note will reach me in care of Mrs. Courland." + +Her pretty head was still averted. "We ought to go in now," she said. + +Guild glanced sharply at the car as they passed it, and the chauffeur +touched his cap to them. It was a big, dark blue, three-seated touring +car, and there seemed to be nothing at all military in its appointments +or in the chauffeur's livery. + +He opened the front door for Karen, and they walked into the hall +together. + +A man rose quickly from a leather chair, as though he were a little +lame. "Hello, Kervyn!" he said gaily, advancing with hand extended. "How +are you, old top!" + +"Harry!" exclaimed Guild; "I'm terribly glad to see you!" + +They stood for a moment smiling at each other, hand clasped in hand. +Then Darrel said: + +"When your note came this morning, we decided to motor over, Miss +Courland and I--" He turned toward a brown-eyed, blond young girl: +"Valentine, this is the celebrated vanishing man I've been worrying over +so long. You may not think he is worth worrying over, now that you see +him, and maybe he isn't; but somehow or other I like him." + +Miss Courland laughed. "I think I shall like him, too," she said, "now +that I know he isn't merely a figment of your imagination--" She turned +her brown eyes, pleasantly and a trifle curiously, toward Karen, who had +paused beside the long table--a lithe and graceful figure in silhouette +against the brilliancy of the sun-lit doorway. + +"Karen," said Guild, "this is Miss Courland who extends her own and Mrs. +Courland's charity to me--" He checked himself, smiling. "_Do_ you still +extend it, Miss Courland?" + +Valentine had come forward and had offered her hand to Karen, and +retaining it for a second, she turned to answer Guild: + +"Of course! We came to take you back with us." And, to Karen: "It +isn't a very gracious thing for us to do--to steal a guest from +Quellenheim--and I am afraid you do not feel very grateful toward me for +doing it." + +Their hands parted and their eyes rested on each other for a second's +swift feminine appraisal. + +"Baron von Reiter has not yet arrived," said Karen, "so I do not think +Mr. Guild has had a very interesting visit. I feel as though I ought to +thank you for asking him to Lesse." + +Guild, who was talking to Darrel, heard her, and gave her a rather grim +look. + +Then he presented Darrel; and the light, gossipy conversation became +general. + +With one ear on duty and one listening to Darrel, Guild heard Karen +giving to Valentine a carelessly humorous outline of her journey from +England--caught the little exclamations of interest and sympathy from +the pretty brown-eyed American girl, and still was able to sketch for +Darrel the same theme from his own more sober point of view. + +Neither he nor Karen, of course, spoke of the reason for Guild's going +to England, nor that the journey had been undertaken on compulsion, nor, +indeed, did they hint at anything concerning the more sinister and +personal side of the affair. It merely appeared that a German general, +presumably a friend of Guild, not being able to get his daughter out of +England after hostilities had commenced, had confided the task to a man +he trusted and who was able to go unquestioned into a country at war +with his own. But it all seemed quite romantic enough, even under such +circumstances, to thrill Valentine Courland. + +"Do come back to Lesse with us, won't you?" she asked Karen. "My mother +and I would love to have you. You'd be bored to distraction here with +only the housekeeper. Do come!" + +"I haven't any clothes," said Karen frankly. + +"I have loads of them! We'd be so glad to have you at Lesse. Won't you +come back with us?" + +Karen laughed, enchanted. She could see Guild without looking at him. +His attitude was eloquent. + +"If you really do want me, I'll come," she said. "But you and Mr. Darrel +will remain to luncheon, won't you? I'll speak to the Frau Förster--if I +may be excused--" She fell for a moment again, unconsciously, into her +quaint schoolgirl manner, and dropped them a little curtsey. + +Guild opened the pantry door for her and held it. + +"May I explain to them a little more clearly who you are, Karen?" he +asked in a low voice. + +"Yes, please." + +He came back into the hall where Miss Courland and Darrel were talking. +Valentine turned swiftly. + +"Isn't she the sweetest thing!" exclaimed the girl warmly. + +"She is really very wonderful," said Guild; "let me tell you a little +about her accomplishments and herself." + +They were still listening to Guild, with an interest which absorbed +them, when Karen returned. + +"The few clothes I have," she said, "are being repacked by Frau Bergner. +Kervyn, shall she repack your sack?" + +"No, I'll do that," he said, turning away with the happiest face he had +worn that morning. And the girl knew that it was because they were going +away together again--taking life's highway once more in each other's +company. Involuntarily she looked after him, conscious for a second, +again, of new and powerful motives, new currents, new emotions invading +her; and she wondered how vitally they concerned this man who had so +suddenly destroyed a familiar world for her and as suddenly was offering +her as substitute a new and strange one. + +Emerging from her brief abstraction she looked across the hall at +Valentine Courland, who, seated on the oak table, chatted animatedly +with Darrel. The girl was exceedingly attractive; Karen realized that at +once. Also this pretty American had said very frankly that she was +certain to like Guild. Karen had heard her say it. + +"Miss Girard," said Darrel, "is the shooting good at Quellenheim? I +imagine it must be, judging from these trophies." He waved a +comprehensive hand toward the walls of the room. + +Karen came slowly over to Valentine: "I really don't know much about +shooting. There are boar and deer here. I suppose at Lesse Forest you +have really excellent sport, don't you?" + +"Our guests seem to find the shooting good," replied Valentine. "My +mother and I go out with them sometimes. I don't know whether we shall +be able to offer anybody any shooting this autumn. We are exceedingly +worried about Lesse Forest. You see, every autumn we renew the lease, +but our lease expired last week, and we can't renew it because nobody +seems to know where our landlord is or where to find him." + +"Is your landlord Belgian?" + +"Yes. He is a wealthy brewer at Wiltz-la-Vallée. And the Germans +bombarded and burnt it--everything is in ruins and the people fled or +dead. So we are really very much concerned about the possible fate of +our landlord, Monsieur Paillard, and we don't exactly know what to do." + +Guild returned, coming downstairs two at a time, his attractive features +very youthful and animated. And Karen, discreetly observing him and his +buoyant demeanour, felt a swift and delightful confusion in the +knowledge of her power to make or unmake the happiness of a grown man. + +Frau Bergner appeared with cloth and covers, beaming, curtseying to all; +and very soon they were at luncheon--a simple but perfectly cooked +luncheon, where everything was delectable and there did not seem to be +very much of any particular variety, yet there was just a trifle more +than enough for everybody. Which is the real triumph of a good German, +French, or Belgian housekeeper's calculations. + +And when luncheon was ended the luggage already had been placed in the +car; the chauffeur emerged from the kitchen where Frau Bergner had been +generous to him; and in a few moments the big blue machine was whirring +smoothly on its way to Lesse, through the beautiful Ardennes forests +over smooth, well-cared-for roads, the sun shining in a cloudless sky, +and four young people making rapid headway in a new acquaintanceship +which seemed to promise everything agreeable and gay. + +At the huge, moss-grown gate-posts of Lesse a forester lifted his grey +felt hat and opened the gates; and around the first curve appeared the +celebrated and beautiful old lodge of weather-stained stone and slate, +the narrow terrace blazing with geraniums and scarlet sage. + +Guild noticed a slender, red-haired girl seated on the steps, knitting, +with a heap of dark-blue wool in her lap; but when the car drew up, +Valentine Courland addressed her as "mother"--to the intense surprise of +Karen as well as of himself, for Mrs. Courland seemed scarce older than +her own daughter, and quite as youthfully attractive. + +She welcomed Karen with a sweet directness of manner which won the girl +instantly; and her manner to Guild was no less charming--an older +woman's delightful recognition of a young man's admiration, and a +smiling concession to this young man's youth and good looks. + +When Valentine mentioned Karen's plight in the matter of wardrobe, her +mother laughed gaily and, slipping one arm around Karen's waist, took +her off into the house. + +"We shall remedy that immediately," she said. "Come and see what suits +you best." + +"As for you," said Darrel to Guild, "your luggage is in your room. I +suppose you are glad of that." + +"Rather," said Guild with such intense feeling that Valentine Courland +laughed outright. + +"Take him to his beloved luggage," she said to Darrel; "I had no idea he +was so vain. You know the room, don't you? It is next to your own." + +"Harry, why are you limping?" asked Valentine as Darrel rose to go. + +"I'm not." + +"You are. Why?" + +"Rum. I drink too much of it," he explained seriously. + +So the young men went away together; and presently Guild was flinging +from him the same worn clothing which, at one terrible moment, seemed +destined to become his shroud: and Darrel sat on the bed and gave him an +outline of the life at Lesse Forest and of the two American women who +lived there. + +"Courland loved the place," said Darrel, "and for many years until his +death he spent the summers here with his wife and daughter. + +"That's why they continue to come. The place is part of their life. But +I don't know what they'll do now. Monsieur Paillard, their landlord, +hasn't been heard of since the Germans bombarded and burnt +Wiltz-la-Vallée. Whether poor Paillard got knocked on the head by a +rifle-butt or a 41-centimetre shell, or whether he was lined up against +some garden wall with the other poor devils when the Prussian +firing-squads sickened and they had to turn the machine-guns on the +prisoners, nobody seems to know. + +"Wiltz-la-Vallée is nothing but an ill-smelling heap of rubbish. The +whole country is in a horrible condition. You know a rotting cabbage or +beet or turnip field emits a bad enough smell. Add to that the stench +from an entire dead and decomposing community of three thousand people! +Oh yes, they dug offal trenches, but they weren't deep enough. And +besides there was enough else lying dead under the blackened bricks and +rafters to poison the atmosphere of a whole country. It's a ghastly +thing what they've done to Belgium!" + +Guild went to his modern bathroom to bathe, but left the door open. + +"Go on, Harry," he said. + +"Well, that's about all," continued Darrel. "The Germans left death and +filth behind them. Not only what the hands of man erected is in ruins, +but the very face of the earth itself is mangled out of all recognition. +They tore Nature herself to pieces, stamped her features out, +obliterated her very body! You ought to see some of the country! I don't +mean where towns or solitary farms were. I mean the _land_, the +_landscape_!--all full of slimy pits from their shells, cut in every +direction by their noisome trenches, miles and miles of roadside trees +shot to splinters, woodlands burnt to ashes, forests torn to +slivers--one vast, distorted and abominable desolation." + +Guild had reappeared, and was dressing. + +"They didn't ransack the Grand Duchy," continued Darrel, "although I +heard that the Grand Duchess blocked their road with her own automobile +and faced the invaders until they pushed her aside with scant ceremony. +If she did that she's as plucky as she is pretty. That's the story, +anyway." + +"Have the Germans bothered you here?" asked Guild, buttoning a fresh +collar. + +"Not any to speak of. Of course they don't care anything about the +frontier; they'd violate it in a minute. And I've been rather worried +because a lot of these Luxembourg peasants, particularly the woodsmen +and forest dwellers, are Belgians, or are in full sympathy with them. +And I'm afraid they'll do something that will bring the Germans to Lesse +Forest." + +"You mean some sort of franc-tireur business?" + +"Yes, I mean just that." + +"The Germans shoot franc-tireurs without court-martial." + +"I know it. And there has been sniping across the border, everywhere, +even since the destruction of Wiltz-la-Vallée. I expect there'll be +mischief here sooner or later." + +Guild, tall, broad-shouldered, erect, stood by the window looking out +between the gently blowing sash-curtains, and fastening his waistcoat. + +And, standing so, he said: "Harry, this is no place for Mrs. Courland +and her daughter. They ought to go to Luxembourg City, or across the +line into Holland. As a matter of fact they really ought to go back to +America." + +"I think so too," nodded Darrell. "I think we may persuade them to come +back with us." + +Without looking at his business partner and friend, Guild said: "I am +not going back with you." + +"What!" + +"I can't. But you must go--rather soon, too. And you must try to +persuade the Courlands to go with you." + +"What are you planning to do?" demanded Darrel with the irritable +impatience of a man who already has answered his own question. + +"You can guess, I suppose?" + +"Yes, dammit!--I can! I've been afraid you'd do some such fool thing. +And I ask you, Kervyn, as a sane, sensible Yankee business man, _is_ it +necessary for you to gallop into this miserable free fight and wallow in +it up to your neck? Is it? Is it necessary to propitiate your bally +ancestors by pulling a gun on the Kaiser and striking an attitude?" + +Guild laughed. "I'm afraid it's a matter of propitiating my own +conscience, Harry. I'm afraid I'll have to strike an attitude and pull +that gun." + +"To the glory of the Gold Book and the Counts of Gueldres! _I_ know! +You're very quiet about such things, but I knew it was inside you all +the time. Confound it! I was that worried by your letter to me! I +thought you'd already done something and had been caught." + +"I hadn't been doing anything, but I _had_ been caught." + +"I knew it!" + +"Naturally; or I shouldn't have written you a one-act melodrama instead +of a letter.... Did you destroy the letter to my mother?" + +"Yes, I did." + +"That was right. I'll tell you about it some time. And now, before we go +down, this is for your own instruction: I am going to try to get into +touch with the Belgian army. How to do it I don't see very clearly, +because there are some two million Germans between me and it. But that's +what I shall try to do, Harry. So, during the day or two I remain here, +persuade your friends, the Courlands, of the very real danger they run +in remaining at Lesse. Because any of these peasants at any moment are +likely to sally forth Uhlan sniping. And you know what German reprisals +mean." + +"Yes," said Darrel uneasily. He added with a boyish blush: "I'm rather +frightfully fond of Valentine Courland, too." + +"Then talk to the Courlands. Something serious evidently has happened to +their landlord. If he made himself personally obnoxious to the soldiery +which destroyed Wiltz-la-Vallée, a detachment might be sent here anyway +to destroy Lesse Lodge. You can't tell what the Teutonic military mind +is hatching. I was playing chess when they were arranging a shooting +party in my honour. Come on downstairs." + +"Yes, in a minute. Kervyn, I don't believe you quite got me--about +Valentine Courland." + +Guild looked around at him curiously. + +"Is it the real thing, Harry?" + +"Rather. With _me_, I mean." + +"You're in _love_?" + +"Rather! But Valentine raises the deuce with me. She won't listen, +Kervyn. She sits on sentiment. She guys me. I don't think she likes +anybody else, but I'm dead sure she doesn't care for me--that way." + +Guild studied the pattern on the rug at his feet. After a while he said: +"When a man's in love he doesn't seem to know it until it's too late." + +"Rot! I knew it right away. Last winter when the Courlands were in New +York I knew I was falling in love with her. It hurt, too, I can tell +you. Why, Kervyn, after they sailed it hurt me so that I couldn't think +of anything. I didn't eat properly. A man like you can't realize how it +hurts to love a girl. But it's one incessant, omnipresent, and devilish +gnawing--a sensation of emptiness indescribable filled with loud and +irregular heart-throbs--a happy agony, a precious pain----" + +"Harry!" + +"What?" asked that young man, startled. + +"Do you realize you are almost shouting?" + +"Was I? Well, I'm almost totally unbalanced and I don't know how long I +can stand the treatment I'm getting. I've told her mother, and she +laughs at me, too. But I honestly think she likes me. What would you do, +Kervyn, if you cared for a girl and you couldn't induce her to converse +on the subject?" + +Guild's features grew flushed and sombre. "I haven't the faintest idea +what a man should do," he said. "The dignified thing would be for a man +to drop the matter." + +"I know. I've dropped it a hundred times a week. But she seems to be +glad of it. And I can't endure that. So I re-open the subject, and she +re-closes it and sits on the lid. I tell you, Kervyn, it's amounting to +a living nightmare with me. I am so filled with tenderness and sentiment +that I can't digest it unaided by the milk of human kindness----" + +"Do you talk this way to her?" asked Guild, laughing. "If you compare +unrequited love to acute indigestion no girl on earth is going to listen +to you." + +"I have to use some flights of imagination," said Darrel, sulkily. "A +girl likes to hear anything when it's all dolled out with figures of +speech. What the deuce are you laughing at? All right! Wait until you +fall in love yourself. But you won't have time now; you'll enlist in +some fool regiment and get your bally head knocked off! I thought I had +troubles enough with Valentine, and now this business begins!" + +He got up slowly, as though very lame. + +"It's very terrible to me," he said, "to know that you feel bound to go +into this mix-up. I was afraid of it as soon as I heard that war had +been declared. It's been worrying me every minute since. But I suppose +it's quite useless to argue with you?" + +"Quite," said Guild pleasantly. "What's the matter with your leg?" + +"Barked the shin. Listen! Is there any use reasoning with you?" + +"No, Harry." + +"Well, then," exclaimed Darrel in an irate voice, "I'll tell you frankly +that you and your noble ancestors give me a horrible pain! I'm full of +all kinds of pain and I'm sick of it!" + +Guild threw back his blond head and laughed out-right--a clear, +untroubled laugh that rang pleasantly through the ancient hall they were +traversing. + +As they came out on the terrace where the ladies sat in the sun +knitting, Valentine looked around at Guild. + +"What a delightfully infectious laugh you have," she said. "Was it a +very funny story? I can scarcely believe Mr. Darrel told it." + +"But he did," said Guild, seating himself beside her on the edge of the +stone terrace and glancing curiously at Karen, who wore a light gown and +was looking distractingly pretty. + +"Such an unpleasant thing has occurred," said Mrs. Courland in her +quiet, gentle voice, turning to Darrel. "Our herdsman has just come in +to tell Michaud that early this morning a body of German cavalry rode +into the hill pastures and drove off the entire herd of cattle and the +flock of sheep belonging to Monsieur Paillard." + +There was a moment's silence; Darrel glanced at Guild, saying: "Was +there any explanation offered for the requisition?--any indemnity?" + +"Nothing, apparently. Schultz, the herdsman, told Michaud that an Uhlan +officer asked him if the cattle and sheep did not belong to the Paillard +estate at Lesse. That was all. And the shepherd, Jean Pascal, tried to +argue with the troopers about his sheep, but a cavalryman menaced him +with his lance. The poor fellow is out in the winter fold, weeping like +Bo-Peep, and Schultz is using very excited language. All our forest +guards and wood-choppers are there. Michaud has gone to Trois Fontaines. +They all seem so excited that it has begun to disturb me a little." + +"You see," said Valentine to Guild, "our hill pastures are almost on the +frontier. We have been afraid they'd take our cattle." + +He nodded. + +"Do you suppose anything can be done about it?" asked Mrs. Courland. "I +feel dreadfully that such a thing should happen at Lesse while we are in +occupation." + +"May I talk with your head gamekeeper?" asked Guild. + +"Yes, indeed, if you will. He ought to return from Trois Fontaines +before dark." + +"I'll talk to him," said Guild briefly. Then his serious face cleared +and he assumed a cheerfulness of manner totally at variance with his own +secret convictions. + +"Troops have got to eat," he said. "They're likely to do this sort of +thing. But the policy of the Germans, when they make requisition for +anything, seems to be to pay for it with vouchers of one sort or +another. They are not robbers when unmolested, but they are devils when +interfered with. Most troops are." + +The conversation became general; Darrel, sitting between Karen and Mrs. +Courland, became exceedingly entertaining, to judge from Karen's quick +laughter and the more subdued amusement of Katharyn Courland. + +Darrel was explaining his lameness. + +But the trouble with Darrel was that his modesty inclined him to be +humorous at his own expense. Few women care for unattractive modesty; +few endure it, none adores it. He was too modest to be attractive. + +"I was sauntering along," he said, "minding my own business, when I came +face to face with a wild boar. He was grey, and he was far bigger than I +ever again desire to see. Before I could recover my breath his eyes got +red and he began to make castanette music with his tusks, fox-trot time. +And do you know what happened--in _your_ forest, Mrs. Courland? I went +up a tree, and I barked my shin in doing it. If you call that +hospitality, my notions on the subject are all wrong." + +"Didn't you have a gun?" asked Karen. + +"I did. I admit it without a blush." + +"Why didn't you use it?" asked Mrs. Courland. + +"Use it? How? A gun doesn't help a man to climb a tree. It is in the +way. I shall carry no more guns in your forest. A light extension ladder +is all I require. And a book to pass away the time when treed." + +They all laughed. "Really," asked Guild curiously, "why didn't you +shoot?" + +"First of all," said Darrel serenely, "I do not know how to fire off a +gun. Do you want any further reasons?" + +"You looked so picturesque," said Valentine scornfully, "I never dreamed +you were such a dub! And you don't seem to care, either." + +"I don't. I like to catch little fish. But my ferocity ends there. +Kervyn, shall we try the trout for an hour this afternoon?" + +Valentine turned up her dainty nose. "I shall take Mr. Guild myself. +You'd better find a gamekeeper who'll teach you how to shoot off a gun." +And, to Guild: "I'll take you now if you like. It's only a little way to +the Silverwiltz. Shall I get a rod and fly-book for you?" + +Karen, watching her, saw the frank challenge in her pretty brown eyes, +saw Guild's swift response to that gay defiance. It was only the light, +irresponsible encounter of two young people who had liked each other at +sight and who had already established a frank understanding. + +So Valentine went into the house and returned presently switching a +light fly-rod and a cast of flies; and Guild walked over and joined her. + +To Karen he looked very tall and sunburned, and unfamiliar in his +blue-serge lounging clothes--very perfectly groomed, very severe, and +unapproachable; and so much older, so much more mature, so much wiser +than she had thought him. + +And, as her eyes followed him from where she was seated among the +terrace flowers, she realized more than ever that she did not know what +to say to him, what to do with him, or how to answer such a man. + +Her face grew very serious; she was becoming more deeply impressed with +the seriousness of what he had asked of her; of her own responsibility. +And yet, as far as love was concerned, she could find no answer for him. +Friendship, swift, devoted, almost passionate, she had given him--a +friendship which had withstood the hard shocks of anger and distrust, +and the more bewildering shock of his kiss. + +She still cared for him, relied on him; wished for his companionship. +But, beyond that, what had happened, followed by his sudden demand, had +startled and confused her, and, so far, she did not know whether it was +in her to respond. Love loomed before her, mighty and unknown, and the +solemnity of its pledges and of its overwhelming obligations had assumed +proportions which awed her nineteen years. + +In her heart always had towered a very lofty monument to the sacredness +of love, fearsomely chaste, flameless, majestic. So pure, so immaculate +was this solemn and supreme edifice she had already builded that the +moment's thrill in his arms had seemed to violate it. For the girl had +always believed a kiss to be in itself part of that vague, indefinite +miracle of supreme surrender. And the knowledge and guilt of it still +flushed her cheeks at intervals and meddled with her heart. + +She had forgiven, had tried to readjust herself before her mystic altar. +There was nothing else to do. And the awakened woman in her aided her +and taught her, inspiring, exciting her with a knowledge new to her, the +knowledge of her power. + +Then, as she sat there looking at this man and at the brown-eyed girl +beside him, suddenly she experienced a subtle sense of fear: fear of +what? She did not know, did not ask herself. Not even the apprehension, +the dread of parting with him had made her afraid; not even the +certainty that he was going to join his regiment had aroused in her more +than a sense of impending loneliness. + +But something was waking it now--something that pierced her through and +through: and she caught her breath sharply, like a child who has been +startled. + +For the first time in her life the sense of possession had been aroused +in her, and with it the subtle instinct to defend what was her own. + +She looked very intensely at the brown eyes of the young girl who stood +laughing and gossiping there with the man she did not know how to +answer--the man with whom she did not know what to do. But every +instinct in her was alert to place upon this man the unmistakable sign +of ownership. He was hers, no matter what she might do with him. + +To Darrel, trying to converse with her, she replied smilingly, +mechanically; but her small ears were ringing with the gay laughter of +Valentine and the quick, smiling responses of Guild as they stood with +their heads together over the contents of the fly-book, consulting, +advising, and selecting the most likely and murderous lures. + +Neither of them glanced in her direction; apparently they were most +happily absorbed in this brand new friendship of theirs. + +Very slowly and thoughtfully Karen's small head sank; and she sat gazing +at the brilliant masses of salvia bloom clustering at her feet, silent, +overwhelmed under the tremendous knowledge of what had come upon her +here in the sunshine of a cloudless sky. + +"Au revoir!" called back Valentine airily; "we shall return before dusk +with a dozen very large trout!" + +Guild turned to make his adieux, hat in hand; caught Karen's eye, nodded +pleasantly, and walked away across the lawn, with Valentine close beside +him, still discussing and fussing over the cast they had chosen for the +trout's undoing. + + + + + CHAPTER XIX + + THE LIAR + + +The lamps had not yet been lighted in the big, comfortable living-room +and late sunlight striped wall and ceiling with rose where Karen sat +sewing, and Darrel, curled up in a vast armchair, frowned over a book. +And well he might, for it was a treatise on German art. + +His patience arriving at the vanishing point he started to hurl the book +from him, then remembering that it was not his to hurl, slapped it shut. + +Which caused Karen to lift her deep violet eyes inquiringly. + +"Teutonic Kultur! I've got its number," he said. Which observation +conveyed no meaning to Karen. + +"German art," he explained. "It used to be merely ample, adipose, and +indigestible. Now the moderns have made it sinister and unclean. The +ham-fist has become the mailed fist; the fat and trickling source of +Teutonic inspiration has become polluted. There is no decadence more +hideous than the brain cancer of a Hercules." + +Karen followed him with intelligent interest. She said with hesitation: +"The moderns, I think, are wandering outside immutable boundaries. +Frontiers are eternal. If any mind believes the inclosed territory +exhausted, there is nothing further to be found outside in the waste +places--only chaos. And the mind must shift to another and totally +different pasture--which also has its boundaries eternal and fixed." + +"Right!" exclaimed Darrel. "No sculptor can find for sculpture any new +mode of expression beyond the limits of the materials which have always +existed; no painter can wander outside the range of black and white, or +beyond the surface allotted him; the composer can express himself in +music only within the limits of the audible scale; the writer is a +prisoner to grammatical expression, walled always within the margins of +the printed page. Outside, as you say, lies chaos, possibly madness. The +moderns are roaming there. And some of them are announcing the discovery +of German Kultur where they have barked their mental shins in outer +darkness." + +Karen smiled. "It is that way in music I think. The dissonance of mental +disturbance warns sanity in almost every bar of modern music. It is that +which is so appalling to me, Mr. Darrel--that in some modernism is +visible and audible more and more the menace of mental and moral +disintegration. And the wholesome shrink from it." + +Darrel said: "Three insane 'thinkers' have led Germany to the brink +where she now stands swaying. God help her, in the end, to +convalescence--" he stared at the fading sunbeams on the wall, and +staring, quoted: + + "'_Over broken oaths and + Through a sea of blood._'" + +He looked up. "I'm sorry: I forget you are German." + +"I forget that I am supposed to be, too.... But you have not offended +me. I know war is senseless. I know that war will not always be the +method used to settle disputes. There will be great changes beginning +very soon in the world, I think." + +"I believe so, too. It will begin by a recognition of the rights of +smaller nations to self-government. It will be an area of respect for +the weak. Government by consent is not enough; it must become government +by request. And the scriptures shall remain no more sacred than the +tiniest 'scrap of paper' in the archives of the numerically smallest +independent community on earth. + +"The era of physical vastness, of spheres of influence, of scope is +dying. The supreme wickedness of the world is Force. That must end for +nations and for men. Only one conflict remains inevitable and eternal; +the battle of minds, which can have no end." + +For an American and an operator in real estate, Darrel's philosophy was +harmlessly respectable if not very new. But he thought it both new and +original, which pleased him intensely. + +As for Karen, she had been thinking of Guild for the last few minutes. +Her sewing lay in her lap, her dark, curly head rested in the depths of +her arm-chair. Sunlight had almost faded on the wall. + +Through the window she could see the trees. The golden-green depths of +the beech-wood were growing dusky. Against the terrace masses of salvia +and geraniums glowed like coals on fire. The brown-eyed girl had been +away with him a long while. + +Mrs. Courland came in, looking more youthful and pretty than ever, and +seated herself with her knitting. The very last ray from the sinking sun +fell on her ruddy hair. + +"Think you are right, Harry," she said quietly to Darrel. "I think we +will sail when you do. The men on the place are becoming very much +excited over this Uhlan raid on the cattle. I could hear them from my +bedroom window out by the winter fold, and they were talking loudly as +well as recklessly." + +"There's no telling what these forest people may do," admitted Darrel. +"I am immensely relieved to know that you and Valentine are to sail when +I do. As for Kervyn Guild--" he made a hopeless gesture--"his mind is +made up and that always settles it with him." + +"He won't return with you?" + +"No. He's joining the Belgians." + +"Really!" + +"Yes. You see his people were Belgian some generations back. It's a +matter of honour with him and argument is wasted. But it hits me pretty +hard." + +"I can understand. He is a most delightful man." + +"He is as straight and square as he is delightful. His mother is +charming; his younger brother is everything you'd expect him to be after +knowing Kervyn. Theirs is a very united family, but, do you know I am as +certain as I am of anything that his mother absolutely approves of what +he is about to do. She is that sort. It may kill her, but she'll die +smiling." + +Mrs. Courland's serious, sweet eyes rested on him, solemn with sympathy +for the mother she had never met. + +"The horrid thing about it all," continued Darrel, "is that Kervyn is +one man in a million;--and in a more terrible sense that is all he can +be in this frightful and endless slaughter which they no longer even +pretend to call one battle or many. + +"He's a drop in an ocean, only another cipher in the trenches where +hell's hail rains day and night, day and night, beating out lives +without distinction, without the intelligence of choice--just raining, +raining, and beating out life!... I can scarcely endure the thought of +Kervyn ending that way--such a man--my friend----" + +His voice seemed hoarse and he got up abruptly and walked to the window. + +Ashes of roses lingered in the west; the forest was calm; not a leaf +stirred in the lilac-tinted dusk. + +Karen, who had been listening, stirred in the depths of her chair and +clasped her fingers over her sewing. + +Mrs. Courland said quietly: + +"It is pleasant for any woman to have known such a man as Mr. Guild." + +"Yes," said Karen. + +"If the charm of his personality so impresses us who have known him only +a very little while, I am thinking what those who are near and dear to +him must feel." + +"I, too," said Karen, faintly. + +"Yet she loves him best who would not have it otherwise it seems." + +"Yes; he must go," said Karen. "Some could not have it--otherwise." + +A man came to light the lamps. And a little while after they were +lighted Mrs. Courland quietly looked up from her knitting. One swift, +clear glance she gave; saw in the young girl's eyes what she had already +divined must be there. Then bent again above her ivory needles. After a +while she sighed, very lightly. + +"They're late," remarked Darrel from the window. + +"They are probably strolling up the drive; Valentine knows enough not to +get lost," said her mother. + +After a few moments Karen said: "Would my playing disturb you?" + +"No, dear. Please!" + +So Karen rose and walked to the piano. Presently Darrel turned and +seated himself to listen to the deathless sanity of Beethoven flowing +from the keys under a young girl's slender fingers. + +She was still seated there when Valentine came in, and turned her head +from the keyboard, stilling the soft chords. + +"We had such a good time," said Valentine. "We caught half a dozen +trout, and then I took him to the Pulpit where we sat down and remained +very quiet; and just at sunset three boar came out to feed on the oak +mast; and he said that one of them was worth shooting!" + +"You evidently _have_ had a good time," said Darrel, smiling. "What +happened to Guild. Did the boar tree _him_?" + +"I think he'd be more likely to tree the boar," remarked the girl. And +to her mother she said: "He went on toward the winter fold to talk to +Michaud who has just returned from Trois Fontaines. There were a lot of +men there, ours and a number of strangers. So I left him to talk to +Michaud. What have you all been doing this afternoon?" turning to Karen, +and from her, involuntarily to Darrel. + +"Miss Girard and I have conversed philosophically and satisfactorily +concerning everything on earth," he said. "I wish my conversations with +you were half as satisfactory." + +Valentine laughed, but there was a slight flush on her cheeks, and again +she glanced at Karen, whose lovely profile only was visible where she +bent in silence above the keyboard. + +"Your mother," remarked Darrel, "has decided to sail with me. Would you +condescend to join us, Valentine?" + +"Mother, are you really going back when Harry sails?" + +"Yes. I don't quite like the attitude of the men here. And Harry thinks +there is very likely to be trouble between them and the Germans across +the border." + +The girl looked thoughtfully at her mother, then at Darrel, rather +anxiously. + +"Mother," she said, "I think it is a good idea to get Harry out of the +country. He is very bad-tempered, and if the Germans come here and are +impudent to us he'll certainly get himself shot!" + +"I! I haven't the courage of a caterpillar!" protested Darrel. + +"You're the worst fibber in the Ardennes! You _did_ kill that grey boar +this morning! What do you mean by telling us that you went up a tree! +Maxl, the garde-de-chasse at the Silverwiltz gate, heard your shot and +came up. And you told him to dress the boar and send a cart for it. +Which he did!--you senseless prevaricator!" + +"Oh, my!" said Darrel meekly. + +"And you're wearing a bandage below your knee where the boar bit you +when you gave him the coup-de-grâce! Maxl washed and bound it for you! +What a liar you are, Harry! Does it hurt?" + +"To be a liar?" + +"No! where you were tusked?" + +"Maxl was stringing you, fair maid," he said lightly. + +"He wasn't! You walk lame!" + +"Laziness and gout account for that débutante slouch of mine. But of +course if you care to hold my hand----" + +The girl looked at him, vexed, yet laughing: + +"I don't _want_ people who do not know you to think you really are the +dub you pretend to be! Do you wish Miss Girard to believe it?" + +"Truth is mighty and must----" + +"I know more about you than you think I do, Harry. Mr. Guild portrayed +for me a few instances of your 'mouse'-like courage. And I don't wish +you to lose your temper and be shot if the Uhlans ride into Lesse and +insult us all! Therefore I approve of our sailing for home. And the +sooner the better!" + +"You frighten me," he said; "I think I'll ask Jean to pack my things +now." And he got up, limping, and started for the door. + +"Mother," she said, "that boar's tusks may poison him. Won't you make +him let us bandage it properly?" + +"I think you had better, Harry," said Mrs. Courland, rising. + +"Oh, no; it's all right----" + +"Harry!" That was all Valentine said. But he stopped short. + +"Take his other arm, mother," said the girl with decision. + +She looked over her shoulder at Karen; the two young girls exchanged a +smile; then Valentine marched off with her colossal liar. + + + + + CHAPTER XX + + BEFORE DINNER + + +Michaud, head forester, had taken off his grey felt hat respectfully +when Valentine introduced him to Guild, there in the lantern light of +the winter sheep fold. A dozen or more men standing near by in shadowy +groups had silently uncovered at the same time. Two wise-looking sheep +dogs, squatted on their haunches, looked at him. + +Then the girl had left Guild there and returned to the house. + +"I should like to have a few moments quiet conversation with you," said +Guild; and the stalwart, white-haired forester stepped quietly aside +with him, following the younger man until they were out of earshot of +those gathered by the barred gate of the fold. + +"You are Belgian?" inquired Guild pleasantly. + +"_De Trois Fontaines, monsieur._" + +It was a characteristic reply. A Belgian does not call himself a +Belgian. Always he designates his nationality by naming his +birthplace--as though the world must know that it is in Belgium. + +"And those people over there by the sheep fold?" asked Guild. + +"Our men--some of them--from Ixl, from the Black Erenz and the White, +from Lesse--one from Liège. And there is one, a stranger." + +"From where?" + +"Moresnet." + +"Has he any political opinions?" + +"He says his heart is with us. It is mostly that way in Moresnet." + +"In Moresnet ten per cent of the people are Germans in sympathy," +remarked Guild. "What is this man? A miner?" + +"A charcoal burner." + +"Does he seem honest?" + +"Yes, Monsieur," said the honest forester, simply. + +Guild laid one hand on the man's broad shoulder: + +"Michaud," he said quietly, "I know I am among friends if you say I am. +I mean friends to Belgium." + +The dark eyes of the tall forester seemed to emit a sudden sparkle in +the dusk. + +"Monsieur is American?" + +"Yes. My grandfather was Belgian." + +"Monsieur is a friend?" + +"Michaud, my name, in America is Guild. My name in Belgian is Kervyn +Gueldres. Judge, then, whether I am a friend to your country and your +king." + +"Gueldres!" whispered the forester, rigid. "Kervyn of Gueldres, Comte +d'Yvoir, Hastiere----" + +"It is so written on the rolls of the Guides." + +"Monsieur le Comte has served!" + +"Two years with the colours. I am here to report for duty. Do you feel +safe to trust me now, Michaud, my friend?" + +The tall, straight forester uncovered. "Trust a Gueldres! My God!" + +"Put on your hat," said Guild, bluntly, "I am American when I deal with +men!" + +"Monsieur le Comte----" + +"'Monsieur' will do. Give me your hand! That is as it should be. We +understand each other I think. Now tell me very clearly exactly what +happened this morning on the hill meadows of the Paillard estate." + +"Monsieur le----" + +"Please remember!" + +"Pardon! Monsieur Guild, the Grey Uhlans rode over the border and +laughed at the gendarme on duty. Straight they made for our hill +meadows, riding at ease and putting their horses to the hedges. Schultz, +our herdsman, saw them trotting like wolves of the Black Erenz, ran to +the wooden fence to close the gate, but their lances rattling on the +pickets frightened him. + +"They herded the cattle while their officers sat looking on by the +summer fold. + +"'Do not these cattle and sheep belong to the Paillard estate?' asks one +of the officers of Schultz. And, 'Very well then!' says he; 'we are +liquidating an old account with Monsieur Paillard!' + +"And with that a company of the Grey Ones canters away across the valley +and up the slope beyond where our shepherd, Jean Pascal, is sitting with +his two dogs. + +"'You, there!' they call out to him. 'Send out your dogs and herd your +sheep!' And, when he only gapes at them, one of their riders wheels on +him, twirling his lance and shoves him with the counter-balance. + +"So they make him drive his flock for them across the valley, and then +over the border--all the way on foot, Monsieur; and then they tell him +to loiter no more but to go about his business. + +"That is what has happened on our hill pasture. He, the lad, Pascal, is +over there with his dogs"--pointing toward the fold--"almost crazed with +grief and shame. And, Schultz, he wishes us to organize as a +franc-corps. Me? I don't know what to do--what with Monsieur Paillard +away, and the forests in my care. Were it not for my responsibility----" + +"I know, Michaud. But what could an isolated franc-corps do? Far better +to join your class if you can--when your responsibility here permits. +Those young men, there, should try to do the same." + +"Monsieur is right! Even the classes of 1915, '16, and '17 have been +called. I have reminded them. But this outrage on the hill pastures has +inflamed them and made hot-heads of everybody. They wish to take their +guns and hunt Grey Uhlans. They don't know what they are proposing. I +saw something of that in '70. Why the Prussians hung or shot every +franc-tireur they caught; and invariably the nearest village was burned. +And I say to them that even if Monsieur Paillard is dead, as many are +beginning to believe, his death does not alter our responsibility. Why +should we bring reprisals upon his roof, his fields, his forests? No, +that is not honest conduct. But if we are now really convinced of his +death, as soon as Madame Courland leaves, let us turn over the estate to +the proper authorities in Luxembourg. Then will each and all of us be +free to join the colours when summoned--if God will only show us how to +do it." + +"Madame Courland and mademoiselle ought to go tomorrow," said Guild. +"One or another of your hotheads over there might get us into trouble +this very night." + +"The man from Moresnet talks loudest. I have tried to reason with him," +said Michaud. "Would you come to the fold with me?" + +They walked together toward the lantern light; the men standing there +turned toward them and ceased their excited conversation. + +"Friends," said old Michaud simply, "this gentleman's name is Kervyn of +Gueldres. I think that is sufficient for any Belgian, or for any man +from the Grand Duchy?" + +Off came every hat. + +"Cover yourselves," continued Michaud calmly. "Monsieur, who has become +an American, desires to be known as Monsieur Guild without further mark +of respect. This also is sufficient for us all, I suppose. Thou! Jean +Pascal, cease thy complaints and stand straight and wipe thy tears. By +God, I think there are other considerations in Lesse Forest than the +loss of thy sheep and of Schultz's cattle!" + +"M-my sheep are gone!" blubbered the boy, "I was too cowardly to defend +them----" + +"Be quiet," said Guild. "It was not a question of your courage! You did +wisely. Show equal wisdom now." + +"But I shall go after Uhlans now with my fusil-de-chasse! Ah, the +cowards of Germans! Ah, the brigands----" + +"Cowards! Assassins!" muttered the other. "Grey wolves run when a man +goes after them----" + +"You are wrong," said Guild quietly. "Germans are no cowards. If they +were there would be no credit for us in fighting them. Don't make any +mistake you men of the Ardennes; their soldiers are as brave as any +soldiers. And where you belong is with your colours, with your classes, +and in uniform. That's where I also belong; that's where I am going if I +can find out how to go. Perhaps one of you can guide me. Think it over. +Keep cool, and listen to Michaud, who is older and wiser than all of +us." + +There was a profound silence. Then a voice from the darkness, very +distinct: + +"I have seen red. It is necessary for me to bleed an Uhlan!" + +Guild walked toward the sound of the voice: "Who are you?" he demanded. + +"_Moi, je suis de Moresnet!_" + +"Then you'd better go back to the zinc mines of Moresnet, my friend. No +Uhlans will trouble you down there." + +And, aside to Michaud: "Look out for that young man from Moresnet. He's +too hotly a Belgian to suit my taste." + +"Monsieur, he is a talker," said Michael with a shrug. + +"My friend, be careful that he is nothing more dangerous." + +"Ah, sacré bleu!" exclaimed the forester, reddening to his white +temples--"if any of that species had the temerity to come among us!----" + +"Michaud, they might even be among the King's own entourage.... No doubt +that fellow is merely, as you say, a talker. But--he should not be left +to wander about the woods _alone_. And, tell me, is there anybody else +you know of who might do something rash tonight along the boundary?" + +"Monsieur--there are two or three poor devils who escaped the firing +squads at Yslemont. They live in our forest, hiding. Our people feed +them." + +Guild said in a troubled voice: "Such charity is an obligation. But +nevertheless it is a peril and a menace to us all." + +"Were this estate my own," said the sturdy forester, "I would shelter +them as long as they desired to remain. But I am responsible to Monsieur +Paillard, and to his tenant, Madame Courland. Therefore I have asked +these poor refugees to continue on to Diekirch or to Luxembourg where +the sight of an Uhlan's schapska will be no temptation to them." + +"You are right, Michaud." He held out his hand; the forester grasped it. +"Tomorrow we should talk further. Our duty is to join the colours, not +to prowl through the woods assassinating Uhlans. Good night! In the +morning then?" + +"At Monsieur's service." + +"And both of us at the service of the bravest man in Europe--Albert, the +King!" + +Off came their hats. And, as they stood there in silence under the +stars, from far away across the misty sea of trees came the sound of a +gun-shot. + +"One of your men?" asked Guild sharply. + +"I don't know, Monsieur. Big boar feed late. A poacher perhaps. Perhaps +a garde-de-chasse at Trois Fontaines." + +"I hope nothing worse." + +"I pray God not." + +They continued to listen for a while, but no other sound broke the +starry silence. And finally Guild turned away with a slight gesture, and +walked slowly back to the Lodge. + +Lights from the tall windows made brilliant patches and patterns across +terrace and grass and flowers; the front door was open and the pleasant +ruddy lamp-light streamed out. + +Valentine passing and mounting the stairs caught sight of him and waved +her hand in friendly salute. + +"We're sterilizing Harry's shins--mother and I. The foolish boy was +rather badly tusked." + +"Is he all right?" + +"Perfectly, and bored to death by our fussing." + +She ran on up the stairs, paused again: "We're not dressing for dinner," +she called down to him, and vanished. + +Guild said, "All right!" glanced at the hall clock, and sauntered on +into the big living-room so unmistakably American in its brightness and +comfort. + +But it was not until he had dropped back into the friendly embrace of a +stuffed arm-chair that he was aware of Karen curled up in the depths of +another, sewing. + +"I didn't know you were here," he said coolly. "Have you had an +agreeable afternoon?" + +"Yes, thank you." + +"It's a very charming place." + +"Yes." + +"I think the Courlands are delightful." + +"Very." + +"Miss Courland and I had a wonderful walk. We had no trouble in taking +all the trout we needed for dinner, and then we went to a rock called +The Pulpit, where we lay very still and talked only in whispers until +three wild boars came out to feed." + +Karen lifted her eyes from her sewing. They seemed unusually dark to +him, almost purple. + +"After that," he went on, "we walked back along the main ride to a +carrefour where the drive crosses; and so back here. That accounts for +my afternoon." He added, smiling carelessly: "May I ask you to account +for yours?" + +"Yes, please." + +"Very well, then I do ask it." + +She bent over her sewing again: "I have been idle. The sun was +agreeable. I went for a little stroll alone and found an old wall and a +pool and a rose garden." + +"And then?" + +"The rose garden is very lovely. I sat there sewing and--thinking----" + +"About what?" + +"About--you--mostly." + +He said steadily enough: "Were your thoughts pleasant?" + +"Partly." + +"Only partly?" + +"Yes.... I remembered that you are joining your regiment." + +"But that should not be an unpleasant thought for you, Karen." + +"No. I would have it so, of course. It could not be otherwise under the +circumstances." + +"It could not be otherwise," he said pleasantly; but his grey eyes never +left the pale, sweet profile bent above the leisurely moving needle. + +"I understand." + +"I know you understand _that_--at least, Karen." + +"Yes. Other matters, too--a little better than I did--this morning." + +"What matters?" he asked casually. But his heart was threatening to +meddle with his voice; and he set his lips sternly and touched his short +mustache with careless fingers. + +Karen bent still lower over her sewing. The light was perfectly good, +however. + +"What," he asked again, "are the matters which you now understand better +than you did this morning?" + +"Matters--concerning--love." + +He laughed: "Do you think you understand love?" + +"A little better than I did." + +"In what way? You are not in love, are you, Karen?" + +"I think--a--little." + +"With whom?" + +No answer. + +"Not with _me_?" + +"Yes." She turned swiftly in the depths of her chair to confront him as +he sprang to his feet. + +"Wait!" she managed to say; and remained silent, one slim hand against +her breast. And, after a moment: "Would you not come any nearer, +please." + +"Karen----" + +"Not now, please.... Sit there where you were.... I can tell you +better--all I know--about it." + +She bent again over her needle, sewing half blindly, the hurrying pulses +making her hand unsteady. After he was seated she turned her head partly +around for a moment, looking at him with a fascinated and almost +breathless curiosity. + +"If I tell you, you will come no nearer; will you?" she asked. + +"No. Tell me." + +She sewed for a while at random, not conscious what her fingers were +doing, striving to think clearly in the menace of these new emotions, +the power of which she was divining now, realizing more deeply every +second. + +"I'll try to tell you," she said: "I didn't know anything--about +myself--this morning. What we had been to each other I considered +friendship. Remember it was my first friendship with a man. And--I +thought it _was_ that." + +After a silence: "Was it anything deeper?" he asked. + +"Yes, deeper.... You frightened me at first.... I was hurt.... But not +ashamed or angry. And I did not understand why.... Until you spoke and +said--what you said." + +"That I love you?" + +"Yes.... After that things grew slowly clearer to me. I don't know what +I said to you--half the things I said on the way back--only that I made +you angry--and I continued, knowing that you were angry and that I--I +was almost laughing--I don't know why--only that I needed time to try to +think.... You can't understand, can you?" + +"I think so." + +She looked up, then bowed her head once more. + +"That is all," she said under her breath. + +"Nothing more, Karen?" + +"Only that--after you had gone away this afternoon I began to be a +little in love." + +"Will it grow?" + +"I think so." + +"May I tell you that I love you?" + +"Yes, please." + +His clasped hands tightened on his knees; he said in a low unsteady +voice: "All my heart is yours, Karen--all there is in me of love and +loyalty, honour and devotion, is yours. Into my mind there is no thought +that comes which is not devoted to you or influenced by my adoration of +you. I love you--every word you utter, every breath you draw, every +thought you think I love. The most wonderful thing in the world would be +that you should love me; the greatest miracle that you might marry me. +Dare I hope for you, Karen?" + +"Yes--please." + +"That you will grow to really love me?" + +"Yes." + +"With all your heart?" + +"I think so." + +In the tremulous silence she turned again and looked at him, bending +very low over her work. + +"Will you be gentle with me, Kervyn?" + +"Dearest----" + +"I mean--considerate--at first.... There is a great deal I don't know +about men--and being in love with one of them.... Brought up as I have +been, I could not understand that you should take me--in your arms.... I +was not angry--not even ashamed.... Only, never having thought of +it--and taking it for granted that, among people of your caste and mine, +to touch a man's lips was an act--of betrothal--perhaps of marriage----" + +"Dearest, it _was_!" + +"Yes, I understand now. But for a while I +felt--strangely--overwhelmed.... You can understand--having no +mother--and suddenly face to face with--you----" + +She leaned her cheek against the back of the chair and rested so, her +small white hands folded over her sewing. + +"I have yet to see Baron Kurt," she said half to herself. "I shall say +to him that I care for you. After that--when you come back, and if you +wish me to marry you--ask me." + +He stood up: "How near may I come to you, Karen?" + +"Not _very_ near--just now." + +"Near enough to kiss your finger-tip." + +"Yes, please." + +Without turning her head she extended her arm; his lips touched lightly +the fragrant skin, and she pressed her fingers a trifle closer--a second +only--then her arm fell to her lap. + +"After dinner," she said, "I shall show you the roses in the garden." + +"They are no sweeter than your hand, Karen." + +She smiled, her flushed cheek still resting against the cushions. + +"It is very wonderful, very gentle after all," she murmured to herself. + +"What, Karen?" + +"I meant love," she said, dreamily. + + + + + CHAPTER XXI + + SNIPERS + + +Dinner was ended. Darrel lay on a lounge in the sitting-room, a victim +against his will to romance. Beside him on a low footstool sat +Valentine, reading aloud to him when she thought he ought to be read to, +fussing with his pillows when she chose to fuss, taking his cigarette +from his lips and inserting a thermometer at intervals, and always +calmly indifferent to his protests or to her mother's laughter. + +For she had heard somewhere that a wild boar's teeth poisoned like a +lion's mauling; and the sudden revelation of a hero under the shattered +shell of modesty and self-depreciation which so long obscured the +romantic qualities in this young man determined her to make him continue +to play a rôle which every girl adores--the rôle of the stricken brave. + +Never again could Darrel explain to her how timidity, caution, and a +native and unfeigned stupidity invariably characterized his behaviour at +psychological moments. + +For Guild had told her all about this young man's cool resourcefulness +and almost nerveless courage during those hair-raising days in Sonora +when the great Yo Espero ranch was besieged, and every American prisoner +taken was always reported "Shot in attempting to escape." + +She had never even known that Darrel had been in Mexico until Guild told +her about their joint mining enterprise and how, under a spineless +Administration, disaster had wiped out their property, and had nearly +done the same for them. + +"Mother," said the girl, "I think I'll look at his shin again." + +"Nonsense!" protested Darrel, struggling to sit up, and being checked by +a soft but firm little hand flat against his chest. + +"I don't want to have my shin looked at," he repeated helplessly. + +"Mother, I am going to change the dressing. Will you help?" + +"For the love of Mike----" + +"Be quiet, Harry!" + +"Then make Guild go out of the room! He's laughing at me now!" + +Karen was laughing, too, and now she turned to Guild: "Come," she said, +smilingly; "we are not welcome here. Also I do want you to see the rose +garden by star-light." And to Mrs. Courland, naïvely: "May we please be +excused to see your lovely garden?" + +The pretty young matron smiled and nodded, busy with the box of +first-aid bandages for which Valentine was now waiting. + +So Karen and Guild went out together into the star-light, across the +terrace and lawns and down along a dim avenue of beeches. + +The night was aromatic with the clean sweet odour of the forest; a few +leaves had fallen, merely a tracery of delicate burnt-gold under foot. + +Karen turned to the right between tall clipped hedges. + +Mossy steps of stone terminated the alley and led down into an old +sunken garden with wall and pool and ghostly benches of stone, and its +thousands of roses perfuming the still air. + +They were all there, the heavenly company, dimly tinted in crimson, +pink, and gold--Rose de Provence, Gloire de Dijon, Damask, Turkish, +Cloth of Gold--exquisite ghosts of their ardent selves--immobile +phantoms, mystic, celestial, under the high lustre of the stars. + +Mirror-dark, the round pool's glass reflected a silvery inlay of the +constellations; tall trees bordered the wall, solemn, unstirring, as +though ranged there for some midnight rite. The thin and throbbing +repetition of hidden insects were the only sounds in that still and +scented place. + +They leaned upon the balustrade of stone and looked down into the garden +for a while. She stirred first, turning a little way toward him. And +together they descended the steps and walked to the pool's rim. + +Once, while they stood there, she moved away from his side and strolled +away among the roses, roaming at random, pausing here and there to bend +and touch with her face some newly opened bud. + +Slender and shadowy she lingered among the unclosing miracles of rose +and gold, straying, loitering, wandering on, until again she found +herself beside the pool of mirror black--and beside her lover. + +"Your magic garden is all you promised," he said in a low voice--"very +wonderful, very youthful in its ancient setting of tree and silvered +stone. And now the young enchantress is here among her own; and the +spell of her fills all the world." + +"Do you mean me?" + +"You, Karen, matchless enchantress, sorceress incomparable who has +touched with her wand the old-familiar world and made of it a paradise." + +"Because I said I loved you--a little--has it become a paradise? You +know I only said '_a little_.'" + +"I remember." + +"Of course," she added with a slight sigh, "it has become more, now, +since I first said that to you. I shouldn't call it 'a little,' now; I +should call it----" She hesitated. + +"Much?" + +She seemed doubtful. "Yes, I think it is becoming 'much'--little by +little." + +"May I kiss--your hand?" + +"Yes, please." + +"And clasp your waist--very lightly--_this_ way?" + +"In sign of betrothal?" + +"Yes." + +She looked up at him out of the stillest, purest eyes he had ever +beheld. + +"You know best, Kervyn, what we may do." + +"I know," he said, drawing her nearer. + +After a moment she rested her cheek against his shoulder. + +Standing so beside the pool, breathing the incense of the roses, she +thought of the dream, and the gay challenge, "Who goes there?" She was +beginning to suspect the answer, now. It was Love who had halted her on +that flower-set frontier; the password, which she had not known then, +was "Love." Love had laughed at her but had granted her right of way +across that border into the Land of Dreams. And now, unchallenged, save +by her own heart, she had come once more to the borderland of flowers. + +[Illustration: "Standing so beside the pool, breathing the incense of +the roses, she thought of the dream"] + +"Halt!" said her heart, alert; "who goes there?" + +"It is I, Karen, wearing the strange, new name of Love----" + +She lifted her head, drew one hand swiftly across her eyes as though to +clear them, then stepped free from the arm that encircled her. + +"Karen----" + +"Yes, I--I do love you," she stammered--"with all--all my heart----" + +"_Halt!_" rang out a voice like a pistol shot from the darkness. + +The girl stood rigid; Guild sprang to her side. "Qui vive!" cried the +voice. + +"Belgium!" said Guild coolly. + +"Then who goes there!--you!--below there in that garden?" + +"Friends to Belgium," replied Guild in a quiet and very grave voice. +"Don't move, dearest," he whispered. + +"What is happening?" + +"I don't know, yet." + +Presently, nearer the balustrade above them, the voice came again: "Is +it Monsieur Guild?" + +"Yes. Who are you?" + +"Pardon. Will Monsieur come up to the terrace? I am watching the wall +beyond the pool." + +They ascended the stone steps; Karen moving lightly beside him. In the +shadow of the clipped yews a dark form stirred. + +"Pardon. I did not recognize Monsieur Guild nor Mademoiselle. There is +trouble." + +It was Schultz the herdsman; his rifle was in his hand and he wore two +cartridge-belts crossed over his smock en bandoulière. + +He touched his hat to Karen, but turned immediately toward the star-lit +sky-line where the dark coping of the wall cut it. + +"What is the trouble?" asked Guild with a sinking heart. + +"God knows how it happened, Monsieur Guild--but there was bad blood +tonight and hot heads full of it. Then, very far in the forest, a shot +was fired." + +"I heard it. What happened?" + +"Listen, Monsieur! The Moresnet man and the boy, Jean Pascal, put their +heads together. I don't know how it was, but even after what you said to +us, and after Michaud told us to remain prudent and calm, somehow after +we heard that shot we all, one by one, took down our guns; and after a +little while we found ourselves together in the carrefour. + +"And from there we went, without saying a word, to the Calvary on the +hill pasture road. It was as though each of us understood without +telling each other--without even hinting at a plan. + +"And by and by we went down by the rivulet at the foot of the hill +pastures, and there, as we expected, were two of the Yslemont refugees. +They had their guns. And one of them had a _spiked helmet_." + +"Go on," said Guild, compressing his lips. + +"He had taken it near Trois Fontaines, not below the hill. We all +examined it. We saw red, Monsieur. Then a calf which had escaped the +Grey Wolves moved in the bushes near us. The Moresnet man caught it, and +he and the shepherd, little Jean Pascal, took the dumb beast and tied it +to a sapling near the road. On _our_ side of the boundary! But we all +knew what might happen." + +There was a silence; then Schultz said in a low, hoarse voice: "It was +fated to be. We took both sides of the road in the long grasses of the +ditches. And the calf bawled for company. + +"The company came after a while--two Grey Wolves. First we heard the +clink-clink of their horses' feet; then we saw their lances against the +sky. + +"They came on, picking their way. And of a sudden the electric +breast-torch on one of them breaks out like a blinding star, plays over +the road, then lights up the calf which is terrified and backs into the +hedge. + +"He drives his lance-butt into the sod and gets out of his saddle. His +comrade sits the other horse, pistol lifted, elbow on thigh. And there +comes then another Uhlan, walking and leading his horse--three of the +dirty brigands, Monsieur, across the border and on our side!" + +"Go on." + +"Eh bien--we bled them!" + +"You killed them?" + +"Yes, Monsieur--two there by the hedge in the grassy ditch; the other +hung to his horse for a while--but came off sideways. One spur caught +and his horse took him back that way--across the border." + +"Go on." + +"We took their schapskas. Jean Pascal wished to go across the border +after more Wolves. He was crazy. And the blood made us all a little +drunk. And then we found that the Moresnet man had gone. That chilled +us." + +He wiped his face with his sleeve, never taking his eyes from the wall +across the garden. + +"After that," he said, "we lay very still, watching. And in a little +while an Uhlan crossed the hill pasture walking his horse slowly against +the stars. Then there were others moving across the sky up there, and we +also heard others on the road. So we have been quietly falling back into +the forest where, if they follow, they shall not go back, please God!" + +"Where is Michaud?" + +"He was very angry, but, since the affair has really begun, he is with +us, of course." + +"Where is he?" + +"He went to the house to find you an hour ago." + +Guild bit his lip in silence. The stupidity of what had been done, the +utter hopelessness of the situation sickened him. + +The slow, groping peasant mind, occupied always with the moment's +problem only, solving it by impulse and instinct alone--what could be +done with such a mind--what could be hoped from it except under +patiently inculcated military discipline. + +Loosened from that, and defending its property from actual or threatened +aggression, it became a furtive, fierce and quickened mind, alternately +cunning and patiently ferocious. But of reason, or of logic, it reckons +nothing, knows nothing. + +Trouble had begun--trouble was abroad already in the star-light--moving, +menacing. + +"What is your word?" he asked bluntly. + +"Yslemont." + +He turned to Karen, who stood quietly beside him: "The ladies must leave +this house tonight. There is no time at all to waste. There is going to +be real trouble here by morning. And I am going to ask you if you will +give these American ladies shelter tonight at Quellenheim. Will you, +Karen?" + +"Of course." + +"From there they can go to the city of Luxembourg tomorrow, and so into +Holland. But they ought to go now." + +"And you, Kervyn?" + +"I shall be very busy," he said. "Come back to the house, now." + +They walked away together, moving quickly along the beech-woods; she +with that youthful, buoyant step as lithe as a young boy's; he beside +her with grave, preoccupied face and ears alert for the slightest sound. + +"Kervyn?" + +"Yes." + +"Will you come back to Quellenheim, too?" + +"I can't do that, dearest." + +"May I ask you what you are going to do?" + +"Dear, I don't know yet. I haven't formed any plan at all." + +"Is it not very dangerous for you to remain here?" + +"No, I think not.... That is--I shall see how this matter threatens to +develop." + +He felt her hand lightly on his arm, looked around, halted. She came to +him, laid her cheek against his breast in silence. + +"You must not be afraid for me, Karen." + +"I shall try--to remember." + +He lifted one of her hands. It was cold and delicately fragrant. He +kissed it. + +"The Bank at Diekirch is my address. I shall try to write you. I shall +come back some day and marry you. Do you love me, Karen?" + +"With all--all my--soul." + +"And you will marry me?" + +"Yes, Kervyn." + +She looked up, her eyes brilliant as wet stars. And very gently, almost +timidly, they exchanged their betrothal, lip to lip. + +He drew her to him a little closer--held her so a moment, scarcely in +contact. Then they turned again to the grassy ride and moved swiftly +forward toward the drive. + +Every light in the house had been lit, apparently. The automobile stood +before the door; three forest waggons with their big fine horses were in +line behind; and servants were loading them with American trunks, +suitcases, and luggage of every description, under the active direction +of Darrel. + +When he saw Guild and Karen coming he called out: "Your luggage is +packed! Mrs. Courland and Valentine and their two maids are filling +hampers with bed linen and knick-knacks. You've heard what's happened, +of course?" + +"Yes," said Guild. "I don't think you had better waste any more time +packing. Let the ladies get into the car and start. Michaud and I can +gather up what's left of their effects and send it after them in the +last waggon! Where is Michaud?" + +"Talking to Mrs. Courland inside. Here he comes, now!----" + +The white-haired forester came out behind Mrs. Courland, caught sight of +Guild, and made a slight gesture expressing infinite despair. + +"I know," said Guild. "I'll talk it over with you after the household +leaves." And to Mrs. Courland, who appeared calm but a trifle dazed: +"Miss Girard offers you Quellenheim for the night, and for longer if you +desire." + +"Please," said Karen, coming forward--"it would be very gracious of you +to come. Will you, Mrs. Courland?" + +"Thank you, dear--yes--it will be the greatest convenience. I don't know +when we should arrive at Luxembourg if we started now." She took one of +Karen's hands and turned to Guild: "What a terrible thing our people +have done! Michaud came to tell us; Harry started everybody packing up. +You will come with us, of course?" + +"Perhaps later, thank you." He turned to Valentine who was coming out in +hat and coat, followed by a pale-faced maid carrying both arms full of +wraps. + +"Please don't lose any time," said Guild, selecting wraps for Mrs. +Courland and for Karen. "Are your servants ready?" + +"Nobody is ready," said Valentine, "but everybody is here or in the +hall, I think." + +Guild gave his arm to Mrs. Courland and helped that active young matron +spring into the touring car. Karen went next. Valentine and two maids +followed; Guild slammed the door. + +"All right!" he said curtly to the chauffeur, then, hat in hand, he said +gaily: "Au revoir! A happy reunion for us all!" + +As the car rolled out into the shining path of its own lamps Karen +turned and looked back at him. And as long as he could see her she was +looking back. + +After the car followed two of the forest waggons, one filled with +servants, the other loaded with luggage. Darrel came out of the house +with the last odds and ends of property belonging to the Courlands and +flung it pell-mell into the last waggon. + +"Come on," he said briskly to Guild. + +"No, go ahead, Harry. I'm stopping to talk with Michaud----" + +"Well how are you going to get to Quellenheim?" + +"When I'm ready to go I'll get there." + +"You're not coming?" + +"Not now." + +Darrel came over and said, dropping his voice: "After this murdering +business it won't do for _you_ to be caught here." + +"I don't mean to be caught here. Don't worry--and get a move on!" + +"What are you intending to do?" + +"I don't know yet. Come, Harry, start that waggon!" + +Darrel shrugged his shoulders, mounted the seat beside the driver, and +the forest waggon rolled away into the darkness. + +Guild was still looking after it, listening to Michaud's report of the +sniping affair near Trois Fontaines, when he saw the figure of a man +walking back from the direction the waggon had taken. The man walked +with a visible limp. + +"You idiot!" said Guild sharply as Darrel strolled up, his features +blandly defiant. + +"Go on with what you were saying to Michaud," insisted Darrel, unruffled +by his reception. + +"Come, Harry--this is downright damn foolishness. If you've let the +waggon go on, you'll have to foot it to Quellenheim. You can't stay +here!" + +"Why?" + +"Because, you infernal butter-in, you'll get mixed up in a particularly +nasty mess. And it doesn't concern Yankees, this mess we're in, Michaud +and I." + +"Oh hell!" said Darrel; "go on and talk, Michaud!" + +"Are you going to poke your nose into this?" demanded Guild. + +"It's in now." + +"See here, Harry! Your sticking by me is gratuitously silly and it +annoys me. You don't have to. This isn't any of your business, this +mess." + +Darrel lighted a cigarette and sat down on the terrace steps. Guild +glared at him. + +"Will you go to the devil!" he snapped out. + +"No, I won't." + +Michaud, perplexed, had remained silent. + +"If things go wrong they'll make a clean sweep of us all, I tell you," +said Guild. "Once more, Harry, will you mind your own business?" + +"No," said Darrel, blandly. + +Guild turned to Michaud: "What were you saying?" + +The forester, controlling his anger and emotion, continued the story of +the sniper near Trois Fontaines. Then he outlined the miserable affair +of the hill pasture. + +"There remains for us now only two courses," he ended. "Either we turn +franc-tireur and make our bivouac yonder in the forest, or we gather our +people at The Pulpit, lie there tonight, and at daylight strike out for +the Dutch frontier." + +Guild nodded. + +"There is a little hole in the rocks at The Pulpit--scarce large enough +to be called a cave. Since the war came upon us, foreseeing necessity, +my men have carried arms and provisions to The Pulpit--well hidden, +Monsieur. I think, now, that it is a better refuge than this house." + +The three men looked up at the house. Michaud made a hopeless gesture: +"I suppose _they_ will destroy it, now. God knows. But if Monsieur +Paillard be truly dead as we now believe, and his poor body lies rotting +under the ruins of Wiltz-la-Vallée, then there is nobody to mourn this +house excepting the old forester, Michaud.... And I think he has lived +on earth too long." + +He went slowly toward the house, entered it. One by one all the lighted +windows grew dark. Presently he reappeared drawing the door-key from his +pocket. Very deliberately he locked the door from the outside, looked in +silence at the darkened house, and, facing it, quietly removed his hat. + +The silent salute lasted but a moment; he put on his grey hat with the +pheasant's feather sticking up behind, picked up his fowling-piece and +hung it over one shoulder, his big, weather-browned hand resting on the +sling. + +"Eh bien, Messieurs?" he inquired calmly. + +"Bring in your men, Michaud," said Guild. "I know where The Pulpit is, +but I couldn't find it at night. I'll wait at the carrefour for you." +And, to Darrel: "What did you do with my luggage?" + +"Sent it to Quellenheim." + +"_That rücksack, too?_" + +"Yes." + +"Damnation," said Guild very calmly; "it had papers in it which are +enough to hang anybody!" + +"You'd better go and get it, then." + +"I'll have to, that's all." + +They walked across the lawn and out along the dark drive in silence. +Where the ride crossed at the carrefour they halted. There was a +dilapidated shrine there to Our Lady of Lesse. They seated themselves on +the stone base. + +"Harry," said Guild, "how long do you intend to follow me about in this +absurd way?" + +"I'd like to see you safe across the Dutch frontier." + +"Thanks," said Guild drily. + +"Don't mention it. I really can reconcile myself to your having your +bally head knocked off in uniform, but this sort of thing seems rather +ghastly." + +"It is. Won't you go on to Quellenheim to oblige me?" + +"I'll wait till tomorrow morning," replied Darrel pleasantly. + +Guild was silent. They sat there for an hour or more scarcely exchanging +a word. Then somebody whistled, cautiously, very near them, and another +carefully modulated whistle answered. + +"Who goes there!" came a challenging voice. + +"Yslemont!" + +"Our men," said Guild, rising. + +Michaud came up in the darkness. "The shepherd, Jean Pascal, and +Schultz, and the men of Yslemont are out there yet. Nothing I say +affects them. They say that they need another Uhlan to bleed. +Imbeciles!" + +"Won't they obey you?" + +"No, by God! The two sheep dogs of Jean are there, grave and wise as two +big-eared devils squatting. And the half-crazed lad is teaching them to +track Uhlans--making them sniff the bloody schapskas like a hunter who +trains pups with a dead hare!" + +He looked around at the dozen shadowy figures gathering in the +carrefour; the star-light sparkled on guns and belts and slings, and +here and there on the vizor of a casquette-de-chasse. + +"The Grey Wolves," said Michaud, "can never find us in The Pulpit. If +Monsieur is ready?" + +"Quite ready," said Guild. And the shadowy file, led by Michaud, moved +straight into the woods. + + + + + CHAPTER XXII + + DRIVEN GAME + + +The stars had faded; a watery grey light glimmered through the forest. +Deer crossed the grassy carrefour by the shrine, picking a dainty way +toward forest depths; rabbits hopped homeward through dew-drenched ferns +and bracken; a cock-pheasant saluted the dawn; the last wild boar still +lingered amid the beech mast, rooting, coughing, following the furrows +that his bristly snout was making while his furry bat-like ears, cocked +forward, remained on duty, and his tail wriggled pleasurably. + +The silent watchers aloft behind the rocky escarpement of The Pulpit, +looking down through leafy branches to the carrefour, saw the last +little roedeer trot past on his fastidious way; saw the last rabbit +vanish in the warren; saw the lone boar lift his huge and shaggy head to +listen with piggish suspicion, then turn and go, silent as some +monstrous spectre. + +From under hazel bushes pheasants stepped out to ruffle and preen and +peck pensively among the fallen leaves, awaiting the promise of the sun, +their white collars gleamed below their gorgeous heads; the sombre +splendour of their plumage made brilliant spots along the ride. Here and +there a hen-pheasant crept modestly about the business of breakfast. A +blue and rosy jay alighted near, sign that the forest peace promised to +endure. + +After a long while far in the west the grey was touched with rose. +Darrel, lying beside Guild, chin on his folded arms, stirred slightly. + +"Sunrise," he said. + +Michaud, on the other side, reared himself on his hands and lay watching +the west. + +"It is too early for the sun," he said. "That is a fire." + +Pinker, ruddier, redder grew the western sky. Silent, intent, forester, +garde-de-chasse, charcoal burner, strained their keen eyes. + +Then a heavy sigh like a groan escaped Michaud. + +"The Lodge," he said, hoarsely, under his breath. "Oh God, my master's +home." + +All around among the rocks men were drawing deep breaths, muttering, +restless; their eyes were fixed like the eyes of caged wild things. + +"The Grey Wolves," growled an old garde--"Ah, the cowards--the dirty +Prussian whelps! Ah! Look at that; my God! Marie adored, Virgin of +Lesse; stand by us now!" + +Against the sky specks like tinsel twinkled; smoke became visible. + +"House, stables, granneries, quarters, garage, all are on fire," said +Michaud in a mechanical voice. His face was grey and without expression, +his words accentless. + +The smoke appeared further north. + +"The cattle-barns and the hay-stacks," he went on monotonously.... +Beyond are the green-houses, runs, dove-cotes, and our little shop.... +They are now afire... Everything is on fire. Lesse is burning, +burning.... The stubble beyond is burning.... And beyond that the +nursery acres--the seedlings and the--Marie adored, Virgin of Lesse, +have pity on my little trees--my nurslings--my darlings----" + +"Hark!" whispered Guild. Far away up the ride horses were coming at a +heavy trot; and now the noise of wheels became audible. And now below +them two German dragoons cantered into view, carbines poised; a waggon +passed--a strange grey vehicle driven by a grey-clad soldier wearing a +vizorless forage cap. It was piled with dead pigeons and chickens. +Behind that another waggon followed, all splashed with blood, and in it +swayed and jolted the carcasses of dead pigs freshly killed, lurching +and slipping over the crimsoned straw. Behind galloped six Uhlans, their +lances perpendicular in the buckets, the cords from their cloth-covered +schapskas bellying behind. + +"Not a shot!" said Michaud in a perfectly distinct voice, pushing up the +rifle of the old garde-de-chasse. "There is nothing to do now, nom de +Dieu!--for the necks of our fowls are already wrung and the dead hogs +are tasting their own _boudin_. Our affair is with the living pigs." + +After a few moments more dragoons came, trotting their superb horses +along the ride, alertly scanning the woods to right and left as they +passed, their carbines at a ready. + +Waggons followed--hay waggons, carts loaded with potato sacks, straw, +apples, bags of flour, even firewood and bundles of faggots--a dozen +vehicles or more of every description. + +"Ours," said Michaud in his emotionless tones. "What they could not take +is burning yonder." + +More grey dragoons closed the file of waggons, then a dozen Uhlans, who +turned frequently in their saddles and kept looking back. + +"Scoundrels!" muttered the garde-de-chasse, laying his rifle level; but +Michaud turned on him and struck up the weapon. + +"Thou!" he said coldly--"do thy duty when I tell thee, or I become +angry." + +Somebody said: "There are no more. We have not bled one single wolf!" + +"Look yonder," whispered Guild. + +Out into the carrefour stepped briskly eight or ten German officers, +smart and elegant and trim in their sea-grey uniforms and their spiked +helmets shrouded with grey so that there was not a glitter from point to +spur. + +A dozen non-commissioned officers followed, carrying two military rifles +apiece. + +The officers looked curiously at the shrine of Our Lady of Lesse, and +the sad-faced Virgin looked back at them out of her carven and sightless +eyes. + +One by one the officers took posts at the four corners of the grassy +clearing or on the steps of the shrine. They were laughing and +conversing; some smoked; some inspected the rifles brought up by their +non-com gun-bearers. The sun had not yet risen; the silvery smoke of the +Silverwiltz marked its high waterfall below the gorge of the glen; fern +fronds drooped wet to the wet dead leaves beneath, matted grasses +glistened powdered with dew. + +In the still grey air of morning the smoke from the German officers' +pipes and cigars rose upward in straight thin bands; a jeweled bracelet +on the wrist of an infantry major reflected light like a frost crystal. + +The officers ceased their careless conversation; one by one they became +quiet, almost motionless where they had taken their several positions. +Behind them, stiff and erect, the non-coms stood with the spare guns, +rifles or fowling-pieces. + +An air of silent expectancy settled over the carrefour; officer and +non-com were waiting for something. + +Michaud had already divined; Guild knew; so did Darrel. Every woodsman +in The Pulpit knew. Some of them were trembling like leashed dogs. + +Then in the forest a sound became audible like a far halloo. Distant +answers came through the woodland silence, from north, from south--then +from west and east. + +Guild whispered to Darrel: "They are driving the forest! They have a +regiment out to beat it!" + +The German officers at their stands no longer moved as much as a finger. +Against the grey trees they were all but invisible. + +Suddenly out into the carrefour stepped a superb red stag, ears alert, +beautiful head half turned at gaze. Instantly a rifle spoke; and the +magnificent creature was down in the ride, scuffling, scrambling, only +to fall and lie panting with its long neck lifted a little. + +Crack! The antlered head fell. + +Then out of the wood trotted three bewildered pigs--an old boar, a +yearling on which the stripes were still visible, and a huge fierce sow. +A ripple of rifle shots checked them; the old boar stood swinging his +great furry head right and left; the yearling was down, twitching; the +sow ran, screaming horribly. Two shots followed; the old boar kneeled +down very quietly like a trick-horse in a circus, still facing his +enemies. He did not look as though he were dead. + +The yearling had ceased its twitching; the sow was down, too, a great +lump of coarse black fur in the ditch. + +Then the rifles began again; a company of little roe deer whirled into +the ride and went down or stumbled with delicate limbs dangling broken, +or leaped to a height incredible in the agony of a death wound. + +Pell-mell after them galloped a whole herd of red deer; the German +rifles rattled steadily. Now and then blasts from fowling-pieces dropped +running or incoming pheasants, cock and hen alike; or crumpled up some +twisting rabbit or knocked a great hare head over heels. + +Faster and faster came the terrified wild things, stag, roe, boar, and +hare; steadily the German rifles cracked and rattled out death; thicker +and swifter pelted the meteor flight of pheasants; birds of all sorts +came driving headlong in their flight; big drab-tinted wood-pigeons, a +wild duck or two, widgeon and mallard; now and then a woodcock fluttered +past like some soft brown bat beating the air; now and then a +coq-de-la-bruyere, planing on huge bowed wings above collapsed and fell +heavily to the loose roar of the fowling-pieces. + +Crippled, mutilated creatures were heaped along the ride; over them +leaped their panic-stricken comrades only to stumble in the rifle-fire +and lie struggling or inert. + +A veil of smoky haze made the carrefour greyer now, through which at +intervals a dying stag lifted its long neck from the shambles about him +or some strong feathered thing beat its broken wings impotently upon the +grass. + +Once a great boar charged, and was shot to pieces, spattering the steps +of the shrine with blood. Once a wounded hare dragged its tortured body +to the shrine, as though for sanctuary. A non-com swung it crashing +against the granite cross. + +And now a more sinister thing occurred. Out from the forest, amid the +stampeding game, reeled a man! His blue smock hung in ribbons; one +bleeding fist grasped a rifle; the cartridges en bandoulière glittered. + +For a second he stood there, swaying, panting, bewildered in the smoke +haze; then three non-coms fired at him at once. + +At that he straightened up, stood so for a second as though listening, +then he took one uncertain step and pitched into a patch of briers on +his face. + +Presently some German foot-soldiers appeared in the ride, moving +cautiously, scanning every ditch, every hollow, every thicket, their +rifles poised for a snap-shot. A roebuck floundered up and went off +before them like the wind, unnoticed. Then one of the soldiers fired, +and a boy jumped out from behind a hazel bush and started to run along +the edge of the woods. He was followed by two sheep dogs. + +"Jean Pascal!" said Michaud calmly. "May God pardon him now." + +As the little shepherd ran, the soldiers stood and fired at him, aiming +carefully. They broke his leg as he passed the carrefour. The lad raised +himself from the ground to a sitting position and was sobbing bitterly, +when they shot him again. That time he fell over on his side, his hands +still covering his dead and tear-wet face. His dogs trotted around him, +nuzzling him and licking his hands. An officer shot them both. + +Schultz broke cover in a few moments, his rifle at his cheek; and, +dropping to one knee in the ride, he coolly opened fire on the officers +by the shrine. But he had time only for a single shot which jerked a +spiked helmet from a cavalry major's clipped head. Then they knocked him +flat. + +As the herdsman lay gasping in the roadway with a bullet in his stomach, +looking with dull and glazing eyes at the rifle flashes, three men from +Yslemont--blackened, haggard, ragged creatures--burst out, fighting like +wildcats with the beaters behind them. + +Two were bayoneted and clubbed to death in the briers; the last man ran +like a crazed hare, doubling, dodging, twisting among the trees where +the rifle hail filled the air with twigs and splinters and tattered +leaves. + +After him lumbered a dozen foot-soldiers, clumping along in their +hob-nailed ammunition boots. Then, high above on The Pulpit, Guild spoke +sharply to Michaud, who gave a jerk to his white head and made a little +gesture to the others behind him. + +"Now," added Guild in a low voice. + +"Fire," said Michaud calmly. + +The rocky glen roared with the volley. The foot-soldiers below halted in +astonishment and looked up. One fell sideways against a tree; another +dropped to his knees and remained motionless, the spike of his helmet +buried deep in the soft earth. + +They were shouting down by the carrefour now; clear, mellow whistle +signals sounded persistently. Horses were coming, too; the ride +reverberated with their galloping. And all the while The Pulpit +resounded with the rifle-fire of its little garrison, and soldiers were +dropping along the carrefour and the ride. + +[Illustration: "The Pulpit resounded with the rifle-fire of its little +garrison"] + +"Pigs of Prussians!" shouted the old garde-de-chasse; "does a Belgian +game-drive suit you now! Ah, scoundrels, bandits, sound the _Mort_ on +your imbecile whistles. For the swine of the North are dying fast!" + +"Be silent," said Michaud coldly. "You tarnish your own courage!" + +Guild and Darrel had taken rifles; they stood firing down at the +carrefour where the horses of the Uhlan advanced guard were plunging +about in disorder under a confusion of lances and fluttering pennons. + +But the confusion lasted only a few moments; horsemen whirled their +mounts and cleared out at full speed; the carrefour was empty of +officers now; not a German was visible in the early sunshine, only the +steady clatter of their rifle-fire continued to pelt the heights where +bullets cracked and smacked on the rocks. + +"Enough," said Michaud quietly. "It is time to leave. André, bring thou +a bar to me." + +A charcoal burner ran to the hole in the rocks and drew out a crowbar. +Michaud took it, shoved it under the edge of the ledge, found a fulcrum, +motioned the men back. + +Two other men threw their weight on the bar; the ledge lifted easily. +Suddenly the entire parapet gave way, crashing like an avalanche into +the glen below. + +"They shall need wings who follow us," said the old man grimly. +"Monsieur," turning calmly to Guild, "if we cross the Dutch border +unarmed, will they interne us?" + +"No, I think not." + +"And from there we may be free to find our way to the colours?" + +"Yes." + +"By sea?" + +"By land and sea to Dunkirk. I know of no easier or quicker way." + +"Monsieur goes with us?" + +"First I must stop at Quellenheim." He added, in a low voice: "By +mistake my papers were sent there last night. Our King must see those +papers." + +"Bien," said Michaud. "We bivouac near Quellenheim tonight--time for a +crust, Monsieur, while you go to the house and return. Is it agreeable +to Monsieur?" + +"Perfectly." And, to Darrel: "Take your chance while it remains and join +the Courlands when they leave Quellenheim. Will you promise?" + +"I'll see," said Darrel, carelessly tossing his rifle across his +shoulder and stepping into the silent file of men which was already +starting across the ridge. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIII + + CANDLE LIGHT + + +It was nearly eleven o'clock at night before they bivouacked without +fires in the woods behind the Lodge at Quellenheim. + +The circuitous forest route had wearied the men; they threw themselves +on the dead leaves and moss; some slept where they lay, others groped in +sacks with toil-stiffened fingers searching for crusts, which they +munched slowly, half asleep. + +Guild drew Darrel and Michaud aside. + +"To go by Luxembourg and Holland is too long and too uncertain," he +said. "If we could cross the railway beyond Trois Fontaines before +daylight we should have a clear country before us to Antwerp." + +It had been days since the household at Lesse had heard any war news, +but Darrel recollected that there had been rumours of a German drive +toward Antwerp. + +Michaud nodded. "It is possible," he said. "Brussels they may have +taken; I don't know; but Antwerp, never! I _know_, Monsieur; I served my +time with the artillery in the Scheldt forts. No German army could pass +the outer ring of fortresses; the country can be flooded. Also our King +is there with his Guides and Lancers and Chasseurs-à-cheval; the entire +army is there. No, Monsieur, Antwerp is open to us if you desire to take +us there." + +"I do," said Guild. "It is the better way for all of us if the country +still remains clear. It is better for us than to engage in a Chasse aux +Uhlans. If I could lead a dozen sturdy recruits into Antwerp it would be +worth while. And, except for the post at Trois Fontaines and the troops +patrolling the railway, I can not see why the country is not open to us +north of Liège." + +"I know this country. It is my country," said Michaud, "and troops or no +troops I can take you across the railroad before daylight." He shrugged +his massive shoulders: "What is a Prussian patrol to a head forester?" + +"You believe you can do it?" + +"I pledge my honour, Monsieur." + +Guild looked at Darrel: "I wish I knew whether there has been a drive +toward Antwerp. If there has been it must have come from the sea by +Ostend. But I do not believe Ostend has been taken." He turned to +Michaud: "If the country is clear, why could we not pick up more men en +route? Why should we not recruit in every hamlet, every village?" + +"Mon Dieu, Monsieur, if there are hardy companions willing to go with +the ragged men of the forest, well and good. Yet I could wish for at +least one uniform among us. That represents authority and gives +security." + +Guild said thoughtfully: "I have an officer's uniform of the Guides +among my luggage." + +"Lord!" exclaimed Darrel, "you brought it with you?" + +"There was to have been a regimental dinner in Brussels in September. I +was asked last June, and they requested me to wear uniform. I had my +uniform, so I packed it." + +"Then it is there in your luggage at Quellenheim!" + +"Yes." + +"Well," said Darrel heartily, "I'm devilish glad of it. If they catch +you in uniform they can't court-martial you with a jerk of their +thumbs." + +"I'm not worrying about that," said Guild carelessly, "but," looking at +Michaud, "if you think a reserve officer in uniform is likely to +encourage recruiting, I certainly shall use my uniform. You know your +own people better than I do. I leave it to you, Michaud." + +"Then, Monsieur, wear your uniform. It means everything to us all; we +honour and respect it; it represents authority; better still, it +reassures our people. If an officer of the Guides is seen in charge of a +batch of recruits, no young man, whose class has been summoned to the +colours, would entertain any misgivings. Nor dare anybody hang back! Our +women would jeer and ridicule them." + +"Very well," said Guild. "Now take me as far as the wood's edge where I +can see the house at Quellenheim. Wait for me there and guide me back +here, for I never could find this dark bivouac alone." + +"Follow, Monsieur," said the old man simply. + +In single file the three men moved forward through the darkness, Michaud +leading without hesitation, Guild following close, and Darrel bringing +up the rear. + +In a few minutes the bluish lustre of the stars broke through the +forest's edge. An overgrown ride ran westward; beyond, the highway from +Trois Fontaines bisected it; and out of this curved the Lodge road. + +It was dark and deserted; and when Guild came in sight of the Lodge, +that, too, was dark. + +Up the long avenue he hastened to the house; the fountain splashed +monotonously in the star-light; the circle of tall trees looked down +mournfully; the high planets twinkled. + +He walked around the house, hoping to find a light in the kitchen. All +was black, silent, and wrapped in profoundest shadow. + +He picked up a few pebbles from the driveway, counted the windows until +he was certain which one was Karen's. Her window was open. He tossed a +pebble against it; and then another into the room itself. + +Suddenly the girl appeared at the window. + +"Karen!" he called. She leaned out swiftly, her braided hair falling to +the sill. + +"Kervyn!" she whispered. + +"Dear, I've only a moment. Could you come down and let me in without +waking the others?" + +"The others? Kervyn, they have gone!" + +"Gone!" + +"Everybody's gone! A patrol of hussars galloped here from Trois +Fontaines and ordered them across the Dutch frontier. I felt dreadfully; +but there was nothing to do. So poor Mrs. Courland and her daughter and +her servants have gone on toward Luxembourg with all their luggage. I'm +here alone with the Frau Förster. Shall I let you in?" + +"Did my luggage go to Luxembourg?" + +"No; it is in the room you occupied." + +"Then come down quickly and let me in," he said. "If there are German +patrols abroad I don't care to be caught here." + +The girl disappeared; Guild went to the front door and stood looking +down the driveway and listening to catch any warning sound. + +The next moment the door behind him opened and Karen's trembling hands +were in his. + +He gazed down into the pale face framed by its heavy braids. In her slim +nightdress and silken chamber robe she appeared very girlish. + +"What has happened, Kervyn? Your clothes are torn and muddy and you look +dreadfully white and tired." + +"Karen, they burned Lesse this morning." + +"Oh!" she gasped. + +"Everything at Lesse is in ashes. Some of the men are dead. The +survivors are in the woods behind your house waiting for me." + +She clung to his arm as they entered the house; Guild picked up one of +the lighted candles from the oak table. She took the other and they +ascended the stairs together. + +"There was sniping," he said. "That always brings punishment to innocent +and guilty alike. Lesse is a heap of cinders; they drove the forest and +shot the driven game from the steps of the carrefour shrine. Men fell +there, too, under their rifles--the herdsman, Schultz, the Yslemont men, +the little shepherd lad with both his dogs. When their bearers came our +way we fired on them." + +"_You!_ Oh, Kervyn! It means death if they find you!" + +"I shall not be found." He took her by the hands a moment, smiled at +her, then turned swiftly and entered his room holding the candle above +his head. + +After his door had remained closed for a few moments she knocked. + +"Kervyn," she called, "I am frightened and I am going to dress." + +"No need of that," came his voice; "I shall be gone in five minutes." + +But she went away with her lighted candle and entered her room. The +travelling gown she wore from England lay ready; boots, spats, and +waist. + +Swiftly she unbraided and shook out her hair and twisted it up again, +her slim fingers flying. A sense of impending danger seized and +possessed her; almost feverishly she flung from her the frail night +garments she wore, and dressed with ever-increasing fear of something +indefinitely menacing but instant. What it might be she did not even try +to formulate in thought; but it frightened her, and it seemed very, very +near. + +She dragged on her brown velvet hat and pinned it, and at the same +moment she heard a sound in the hallway which almost stopped her heart. + +It was the ringing step of a spurred boot. + +Terrified, she crept to her door, listened, opened a little way. Near +the stair-head a candle shone, its yellow light glimmering on the wall +of the passage. Then she heard Guild's guarded voice: + +"Karen?" + +"Y-yes," she faltered in amazement as a tall figure turned toward her +clothed in the complete uniform of the Guides. + +"Kervyn! Is it _you_? Why are you in that uniform?" She came toward him +slowly, her knees still tremulous from fear, and rested one hand on his +arm. + +"Dearest, dearest," he said gently, "why are you trembling? There is no +reason for fear. I am in uniform because I shall attempt to take a few +recruits and volunteers across the railway line tonight. We are going to +try to make Antwerp, which is a quicker, and I think a surer, route than +through Luxembourg and Holland. Besides, they _might_ interne us. They +would without a doubt if I were in uniform and if the Lesse men came to +the frontier with their guns and bandoulières." + +"Kervyn, how _can_ you get to Antwerp? You can't _walk_, dear!" + +"We'll start on foot, anyway," he said cheerfully. "Now I must go. +They're waiting. Why did you dress, Karen?" + +"I don't know." She looked up at him in a dazed way. "I wanted to be +with you." + +"I'm going back to the forest, dear." + +"Could I come?" + +"No. I don't want you to be out at night. There's only a fireless camp +there and a dozen ragged and dirty men. Besides, there might be some +sort of trouble." + +"Trouble?" + +"Not likely. Still there _might_ be patrols out from Trois Fontaines, +even from Lesse. I don't know. Michaud says he can take us across the +railway line before daylight. If he can do that I think we shall find +the country clear beyond. Anyway, we'll know soon. Now I must say +good-bye." + +She laid her cold hands in his, tried to speak, but could not. Then, of +a sudden, her fingers gripped his in terror; there came the rushing +swish of an automobile around the gravel circle outside, a loud resonant +humming, a sharp voice speaking in German, a quick reply in the same +tongue. + +"The--the valet's room. Quick!" she gasped, pushing him backward across +the room and through the doorway. Behind him the swinging leather door +closed silently again; the girl stood rigid, white as a sheet, then she +walked to the oak table, picked up a book, and dropped into the depths +of a leather arm-chair. + +Outside the mellow whirr of the motor had ceased; the door of the car +closed with a click; quick, firm steps ascended the path; there came a +low jingling sound, the clash of metal, then a key was rattled in the +outer lock, turned sharply, and the door creaked open. + +Karen rose to her feet. Every atom of colour had fled her cheeks. + +"Karen!" + +"You?" she said in a ghost of her own voice. + +Kurt von Reiter seemed astonished. He came forward very quickly, a tall, +thin, faultless figure moulded perfectly into his tight sea-grey +uniform. Bending only a very little from the waist as though too tightly +buttoned in, he bowed above the icy hand she extended, paid his respects +with flawless courtesy, straightened up, placed his shrouded spiked +helmet on the table. + +"I had scarcely expected to find you awake," he said. "It is after two +o'clock in the morning." + +She made a supreme effort at self-control. + +"I have been a trifle nervous, Kurt. There was trouble at Lesse Forest +last evening." + +"Yes. Who told you?" + +"I was there." + +"At Lesse!" + +"Yes, a guest of Mrs. Courland--an American lady." + +"I know about her. She is a friend of Mr. Guild." + +Karen nodded; a painful and fixed smile quivered in her colourless lips. + +"Was Mr. Guild there also?" inquired von Reiter. + +"Yes." + +"He left with the others, I suppose." + +She said: "Everybody was in a panic. I invited them to come here, but a +patrol from Trois Fontaines galloped up and ordered them to go through +Luxembourg--across the Dutch frontier. It seemed very harsh." + +The girl had seated herself again; von Reiter drew up a chair beside the +table opposite her and sat down. Candle light played over his dry, +sandy-blond face and set his blue eyes glittering. + +"Are you well, Karen?" + +"Quite, thank you. And you?" + +"God be thanked, in perfect health." He did not mention three broken +ribs still bandaged and which had interfered with the perfectly +ceremonious bow of a German officer. + +He said: "I took this opportunity to come. It was my first chance to see +you. Been travelling since noon." + +"You--remain tonight?" + +"I can not. I came for one reason only. You know what it is, Karen." + +She did not answer. + +He waited a moment, looked absently around the room, glanced up at the +stag's antlers, then his gaze returned to her. + +"Were you much frightened by what happened at Lesse?" he asked. "You do +not look well." + +"I am well." + +"Did you experience any trouble in leaving England?" + +"Yes, some." + +"And Mr. Guild? Was he--useful?" + +"Yes." + +Von Reiter gazed at the girl thoughtfully. One elbow rested on the table +corner, the clenched fist supporting his chin. In the other hand he +continued to crumple his gloves between lean, powerful, immaculate +fingers. + +"Karen," he said, "did you bring with you whatever papers you happened +to possess at the time?" + +After a moment the girl answered in a low voice: "No." + +"Did you destroy them?" + +"No." + +"What became of them?" he insisted. A mottled flush gathered on his +cheek-bones; after a few seconds the carefully scrubbed features of the +man grew pink. + +"What papers had you?" he asked. + +She looked up at him in silence and a deeper colour stained his face so +that in contrast his pale mustache, en croc, and his clipped hair +appeared almost white. + +"Kurt," she said, "how could you permit me to be involved in such +matters?" + +"Karen, do you imagine I supposed that war with England was imminent? I +never dreamed that England would intervene! And when she did, and when +it was already too late to reach you, the anxiety concerning you, and +concerning what papers might still be passing from the Edmeston Agency +through your hands, nearly drove me insane." + +"Yet you instructed me to bring back with me any papers I might have in +my possession." + +"I tell you I did not count on war with England. Nobody did. I meant +only that you were to bring with you what papers you had when you +returned. Did not Grätz instruct you to destroy your papers?" + +"No." + +Von Reiter's lean jaws snapped. "Then what did you do with them?" + +"I put them into my satchel. On board the steamer the satchel was opened +and the papers taken." + +Anger, apprehension, twitched at his thin lips; then a deeper emotion +softened the grim lines of his features. + +"God be thanked," he said, "that you were not involved in England. It +was a living nightmare to me--that constant uncertainty concerning you. +I could not reach you; I could do nothing, make no arrangements. Cipher +code was forbidden even from neutral countries. It was only at the last +moment I found a secret wireless lane still open to us. In that way I +managed to notify Grätz that this man Guild was on his way to find you +and bring you back here; that no more papers were to be sent through you +to me; and that what you had were to be destroyed. Did you hear from him +at all?" + +"He telephoned that my maid had been arrested on a serious charge and +that I was to leave Hyacinth Villa at once with Mr. Guild. He said +nothing about papers. But I remembered what I had promised you, and I +put into my satchel what papers I had.... They nearly lost me my life," +she added, gazing steadily at him. + +"Do you mean to say that you knew the papers were compromising and still +you undertook to bring them? Were you insane to attempt such a thing?" + +"Had I not promised you, Kurt?" + +"Circumstances alter conditions and absolve promises however solemn. +Common sense decides where honour is involved." + +She flushed brightly: "There I am more English than German, Kurt. A +promise is a promise, and not"--she looked at him musingly--"not what +the British press reproaches us for calling a 'scrap of paper.'" + +He said grimly: "When a supposed friend suddenly aims a blow at you, +strike first if you can and discuss the ethics afterward. We tore up +that 'scrap of paper' before the dirty fingers of England could clutch +it, that's all." + +"And lost the world's sympathy. Oh, Kurt!" + +"But we retained the respect born of fear. We invaded Belgium before the +others could do it, that's all.... I do not care to discuss the matter. +The truth is known to us and that is sufficient." + +"It is not sufficient if you desire the sympathy of the world." + +Von Reiter's eyes became paler and fixed and he worried the points of +his up-brushed mustache with powerful, lean fingers. + +"Make no mistake," he said musingly. "America's turn will come.... For +all the insolence she has offered in our time of need, surely, surely +the time is coming for our reckoning with her. We have not forgotten von +Diederichs; we shall not forget this crisis. All shall be arranged with +method and order when we are ready.... Where is that American--or +Belgian, as he seems to think his honour of the moment requires him to +be?" + +"Mr. Guild?" + +"Yes." + +"He did not come here when the others arrived from Lesse Forest." + +"He's a fire-brand," said von Reiter coldly. "Our system of information +informed us sufficiently. I should have had him extinguished at Yslemont +had he not been the one man who stood any chance of getting into England +and bringing you back." + +"Also you trusted him," she said quietly. + +"Yes, I did. He is a Gueldres of Yvoir. The Gueldres have never lied. +When he said he'd return, that settled the matter." Von Reiter's eyes +had an absent look as though following a detached idea, and his features +became expressionless. + +"When the war ends," he said, "and if that man ever comes to Berlin, it +would afford me gratification to offer him my hand--or my card. Either +extreme would suit me; he is not a man to leave one indifferent; it is +either friendship or enmity--the hand or the card. And I do not know yet +which I might prefer." + +He looked up and around at her, his sombre, blond features hardening: + +"I need not ask you whether his attitude toward you was respectful." + +"It was--respectful." + +"That question, of course, answered itself. The record of that family is +part of Belgian history.... Do you know where he went after he kept his +word and delivered you here?" + +"He went to Lesse." + +"And then?" + +She remained silent. + +"Do you know?" he repeated. + +"Yes." + +"Is there any reason why you should not tell me?" + +She was mute. + +"Karen," he said gently, "is there any reason why your confidence should +be withheld from me? I have come here tonight for my answer. I have only +an hour to stay. It was a long way to come for one single word from a +young girl. But I would have travelled the world over for that word from +you. Will you give me my answer, Karen?" + +She looked up, dumb, her mouth tremulous, unable to control her emotion +for the moment. His keen eyes searched hers; he waited, thin lips +compressed. + +"Kurt--I--do not love you," she whispered. + +He took it in silence; not a muscle quivered. + +"Will you marry me, Karen, and try?" + +"I can not." + +"Is it your profession? Is it your desire for liberty?" + +"No." + +"Is it--_another man_?" + +As he spoke he saw in her eyes that he had guessed the truth. + +For a full minute he sat there like a statue, one arm extended on the +table, the bony hand clenched. After a long while he lifted his head and +turned upon her a visage terrifying in its pallour and rigidity. + +"Is it--Guild?" he asked with an effort. + +"Kurt!" + +"_Is_ it?" The heavy colour suddenly flooded his face; lie drew a deep, +sharp breath. "Is he still in this neighbourhood? Is he, perhaps, coming +here to see you? Is _that_ why you are awake and dressed at this hour?" + +"Kurt, you have no right----" + +"I am at liberty to ask you these questions----" + +"No! It is an impertinence----" + +"Do you regard it that way? Karen! Is _this_ what has happened--" He +choked, turned his congested face, glaring about him at the four walls +of the room. Suddenly some instinct of suspicion seized him, possessed +him, brought him to his feet in one bound. And instantly the girl rose, +too. + +"I know why you are awake and dressed!" he said harshly. "You _are_ +expecting him! Are you?" + +She could not answer; her breath had deserted her, and she merely stood +there, one hand resting on the table, her frightened eyes fixed on the +man confronting her. + +But at his first step forward she sprang in front of him. She strove to +speak; the infernal blaze in his eyes terrified her. + +"Is _this_ what you have done to me?" he said; and moved to pass her, +but she caught his arm, and he halted. + + + + + CHAPTER XXIV + + A PERSONAL AFFAIR + + +"My God!" he said, "it would not surprise me to find him here in the +house!... He _is_ here--or you would never wear a face like that!... +What do you mean to do, block my way in my own house?" as she confronted +him. + +"Kurt--" Her white lips merely formed the word. + +"_Is_ he here? Answer me!" + +"I--he----" + +"Answer me!" + +Behind them a voice broke in quietly: "I'll answer for us all.... Don't +touch that holster, General! I can kill you first.... Now, then, am I to +pass that door without violence?... Because I'm going to pass it one way +or another----" + +He came forward, his naked sabre shining in the candle light, his grey +eyes level, cool, and desperate. + +Von Reiter stared at this tall young fellow in the gay uniform of the +Guides. His hand, which had instantly moved toward his holster, remained +suspended. + +"I am going out of that door," repeated Guild. + +"Will General Baron von Reiter be good enough to move aside?" + +The German's eyes narrowed. "So," he said very quietly, "it is not to be +the hand after all, but an exchange of cards. I am not sorry--" With a +movement too swift for the eye to follow, his sword was out and +glittering in his hand, and he sprang on Guild, beating at his guard, +raining blows like lightning. + +The girl had fallen against the table, one hand at her throat as though +choking back the bursting cry of fright; her brain rang with the +dissonance and metallic clamour; the flashing steel dazzled her. Two oak +chairs fell crashing as Guild gave ground under the terrific onslaught; +there was not a word spoken, not a sound except the infernal din of the +sabres and the ceaseless shifting of armed heels on the floor. + +Suddenly von Reiter went down heavily; the doormat slipping under foot +had flung him to the floor with a crash across a fallen chair. After a +second or two he groaned. + +Guild looked down at him, bewildered, sword in hand--watched him as he +struggled to his feet. The German was ghastly white. A fit of coughing +shook him and he tried to disguise it with his hand. + +"Pick up your sabre!" motioned Guild. + +Von Reiter stooped, recovered his sword, adjusted the hilt to his hand. +He coughed again, and there was a trace of blood on his lips, but his +face was dead white. He looked very steadily at Guild. + +"Acknowledgments to the Comte d'Yvoir," he said with an effort; and the +shadow of a smile touched his thin, grim lips. + +"Do I pass?" demanded Guild, as grimly. + +Von Reiter started to speak, and suddenly his mouth was full of blood. + +"Kurt," cried the girl in an agonized voice, "do you mean to kill him or +that he is to kill _you_!--_here_--before my face?" + +"I mean--just--that!" + +He sprang at Guild again like a tiger, but Guild was on him first, and +the impact hurled von Reiter against the table. His sabre fell +clattering to the floor. + +[Illustration: "The impact hurled von Reiter against the table"] + +For a moment, white as a corpse, he looked at his opponent with sick +eyes, then, suddenly faint, he slid into the great leather chair. There +was more blood on his lips; Guild, breathing heavily, bent over and +looked at him, ignorant of what had happened. + +Karen came and took his hand in hers. Then a slight groan escaped him +and he opened his eyes. + +"Are you badly hurt?" asked Guild. + +"I'm a little sick, that's all. I think when I fell some ribs broke--or +something----" + +"I meant fairly by you," said Guild miserably. + +"You played fair. It was bad luck--bad luck--that's all." He closed his +pain-sickened eyes: "God, what luck," he mumbled--"really atrocious!" + +Guild, still holding his naked sword, drew his automatic with his left +hand. Then he looked silently at Karen. + +"Can't you leave the house by the garden?" she whispered tremulously. + +"The gate is padlocked." + +"Kervyn, they'll kill you if you step out of that door!" + +Von Reiter, drowsy with pain, opened his eyes: + +"No, they won't," he said. "Be kind enough to speak to my aide. I--I'm +afraid I'm rather--ill." + +He glanced at Guild: "Honour of an officer," he added weakly. + +Karen stepped to the door and flung it open. + +"Captain!" she called sharply. + +A moment later the young hussar aide-de-camp who had escorted Guild to +the British lines came clanking in. + +He glanced obliquely at Guild and at Karen, but when his eyes fell on +von Reiter he stared, astonished. Nevertheless, his spurred heels +clicked together at salute. + +Von Reiter's eyes became ironical. He looked for a moment at his aide, +then his gaze wandered to Karen and to Guild. + +"Where do you desire to go?" he asked with an effort. + +"To Antwerp." + +"The road is still open." And, to the hussar: "Safe conduct for Captain +the Comte d'Yvoir across the railway. Write it now." + +"And for my comrade, Mr. Darrel, and ten recruits," said Guild quietly. + +"And for his comrade, Mr. Darrel, and ten recruits," repeated von Reiter +in a failing voice. But he was smiling. + +"And--for _me_!" said Karen. + +Von Reiter's eyes had almost closed; he opened them again, heavily, as +she spoke. Karen bent over him: + +"Kurt, I must go. I can not remain here now. Besides--I +want--my--husband." + +"Think well," he said drowsily. "Think diligently--at this +moment--solemn--supreme--" He raised himself a little, then relapsed: +"God," he murmured, "what luck to meet with under your own roof!..." +And, to the hussar: "Write it that Miss Karen Girard goes also--if she +so desires." + +There was a silence. The hussar scribbled on the stamped paper in his +tablets. After he had finished he laid the tablets and the fountain pen +on von Reiter's knees. Very slowly the latter affixed his signature. + +He said to the hussar: "I am ill. Go to Trois Fontaines and bring me a +medical officer." + +When the hussar had gone and when the whirr of the automobile had died +away down the drive, Guild aided the hurt man to a sofa and Karen +brought pillows from a bedroom. + +He was very thirsty, too, and she gave him water continually. At +intervals there were slight signs of mental wandering, perhaps symptoms +of pneumonia, from his crushed ribs, for he coughed a great deal and the +fever already reddened his blond skin. But in the main his mind seemed +to be clear. He opened his light-blue eyes and glanced at Guild +continually. + +"Bad luck, old chap," he said in English, "but no reflection on you. +Just bad luck, bad, very bad! We Germans usually have an ally in God. +But the trinity is incomplete without luck." + +Guild said in a low voice: "I am really sorry, von Reiter. I hope you +will come out all right. God knows I bear you no ill will." + +"Many thanks. I shall come out all right. There is much work to do." A +ghost of the ironical smile touched his feverish lips again. "And much +work to be done after this business in Europe is settled.... I mean in +America. She must pay her reckoning. She must settle with us Germans.... +I wish it might come soon---_now!_--while their present administration +remains--while yet this dull President and his imbecile and grotesque +cabinet ministers are in power.... I beg your pardon--seeing you in that +uniform made me forget that you are also _Mr. Guild_." + +But the irony in his wearied eyes made it very plain that he had not +forgotten. + +"Karen?" he said presently. She leaned forward in her chair beside him. + +"It was just bad luck, very bad luck," he muttered; "but yours is +luck"--he turned his dulled eyes toward Guild--"luck to be envied.... +Some day I hope it may be--the hand." + +"It is now, if you wish," said Guild. + +The other shook his head: "Too soon, too soon," he muttered. "Even a +German officer has his--limits. Between you and my luck I'm in a bad +way--a very bad mess." + +Karen bent over his hand and touched it with her lips. + +The fever was gaining; he began to roll his blond head from side to +side, muttering of love and luck and of the glory of God and the German +Empire. A slight smile remained on his lips. + +Before the automobile arrived from Trois Fontaines the fever seized him +fiercely. His coughing racked him incessantly now, and the first heavy +hemorrhage soaked his grey tunic and undershirt. + +They eased him all they could, laying open his broad blond chest and the +ribs now terribly discoloured where his fall had crushed them in again +under the bandage. + +How the man could have risen and come at him again Guild could not +understand. He was terribly shocked. + +Dreadful sounds came from his laboured breathing; he lay with eyes +closed now, one burning hand lying in Karen's. + +Toward four o'clock in the morning a far, faint sound penetrated the +room. + +Von Reiter's eyes opened. "Halt!" he whispered. "Who goes there?" + +It was Death. He seemed to understand that, for he sighed very lightly, +his hand closed on Karen's, and he lay gazing straight upward with +brilliant eyes. + +A few moments later there came a rush, a crunching of gravel, the loud +purr of the motor outside. + +Then Karen opened the door and a medical officer entered the room in +haste. + +Guild turned to Karen: "I must go to the woods and bring in my men and +Darrel. Dearest, are you decided to go with me?" + +"I could not remain here now. I do not wish to." + +"Then wait for me," he said, and went out into the night. + +A few moments later they took von Reiter upstairs to his own room. His +mind seemed to clear again for a while and he said feebly but distinctly +to his aide-de-camp: + +"My daughter and her fiancé, the Comte d'Yvoir, are going to Antwerp for +their wedding. I remember that military trains now leave Trois Fontaines +by way of Trois Vierges, Liège, and Lesten. We control to Lesten, I +think." + +"Yes, Excellence." + +"Write for me that my daughter and the Comte d'Yvoir shall be accorded +transportation as far as we control. You will take them to Trois +Fontaines in my automobile; you will make personal requisition of the +chef-de-gar for the privacy of a compartment. You will affix to the +outside of the compartment a notice that the persons in possession are +travelling on my business and under my personal protection, and that +they are not to be detained or interfered with in any way.... Write it +separately to be affixed." His voice was weak but perfectly distinct. + +The hussar wrote steadily in his tablets, finished, and waited. + +"Hold them while I sign," whispered von Reiter. He signed both orders. + +"Take them now. I shall not need the car. I shall be here a long +time--a--long--time. I am ill. So inform headquarters by telegraph." + +"At orders, Excellence." + +Von Reiter closed his eyes: "Say to the Comte d'Yvoir that it was--bad +luck--very bad luck.... But not--his fault.... Tell him I +am--contented--that a Gueldres is to marry my--daughter." + +The aide saluted. But the sick man said nothing more. + + * * * * * + +Von Reiter was still unconscious when Guild returned from the forest. + +Karen met him on the steps; he drew her aside: + +"Dear," he whispered, "there has been more violence during my absence. +The Lesse men caught a traitor--a wretched charcoal burner from +Moresnet--prowling about their camp. + +"They hung him with his own belt. I saw him hanging to a beech-tree. + +"Darrel was greatly worried when I told him that the Courlands had been +forced to continue on to Luxembourg City. He has gone to the hamlet of +Croix to hire a peasant to drive him after them and try to overtake +them. + +"As for the others, they will not come to Antwerp with me now. They have +seen 'red' again; and in spite of all I could do they have started back +toward Lesse to 'drive' Uhlans as they saw the wild game driven." + +The girl shivered. + +Guild made a hopeless gesture: "It means the death of every man among +them. The Uhlans will do the hunting and the driving, not the poor, +half-crazed peasants.... It means the end of Lesse and of every man who +had ever called it home." + +The hussar appeared at the door. Guild looked up, returned the precise +salute, and his careworn features softened as he listened to the +instructions and the parting message from the now unconscious officer +above. + +There was a silence, then: + +"Karen," he said quietly, "are you ready?" + +"Yes." + +The hussar asked whether there was luggage, and learning that there was +he sent the chauffeur in to bring out Guild's box and Karen's suit-case +and satchel. + +The girl ran upstairs to the sick room. They admitted her. + +Guild was standing by the car when she returned, a drooping, listless +figure, her handkerchief pressed to her face. He gave her his arm and +aided her into the car. The hussar stepped in beside the chauffeur. + +Dawn was just breaking behind the house; the evergreens stood out, +massive and black against the silvering east. + +As the car moved slowly out of the gravel circle the first bird +twittered. + +Guild bent over the girl beside him: "Is he still unconscious?" + +"Yes." + +"Is there any chance?" + +"They don't know. It is the lungs. His body is all crushed in----" + +She rested her cheek against his shoulder, weeping, as the great grey +car rushed on through the pallour of early dawn. + + + + + CHAPTER XXV + + WHO GOES THERE! + + +Stretched out flat on the seat of a railway carriage, her tear-marred +face buried in her arms, her dishevelled hair tumbled around her neck +and shoulders, Karen lay asleep. In that car all the other compartments +seemed to be full of Saxon reserve artillery officers, their knobbed +helmets shrouded in new grey slips, their new, unwrinkled uniforms +suggestive of a very recent importation from across the Rhine. + +Ahead, cattle cars, ore cars, and flat cars composed the long train, the +former filled with battery horses and cannoniers, the latter loaded with +guns, caissons, battery waggons, forges, and camp equipment, all in +brand-new grey paint. + +Except when the train stopped at some heavily guarded station, nobody +came to their compartment. But at all stations officers opened the doors +and silently examined Guild's credentials--energetic, quick-moving, but +civil men, who, when the credentials proved acceptable, invariably +saluted his uniform with a correctness impeccable. + +Nevertheless, before the train moved out again, always there was a group +of officers gazing in polite perplexity at the green jacket and forage +cap and the cherry-coloured riding breeches of a regiment which, they +were perfectly aware, was already in the saddle against them. + +At one station Guild was able to buy bread and cheese and fruit. But +Karen still slept profoundly, and he did not care to awaken her. + +From the car windows none of the tragic traces of war were visible +except only the usual clusters of spiked helmets along the line; the +inevitable Uhlans riding amid the landscape; slowly moving waggon-trains +pursuing roads parallel to the railway; brief glimpses of troops +encamped in fields. But nothing of the ravage and desolation which +blackened the land farther south was apparent. + +In the latitude of Liège, however, Guild could see from the car windows +the occasional remains of ruined bridges damming small streams; and here +and there roofless and smoke-stained walls, or the blackened debris of +some burnt farm or factory or mill. + +But the northern Ardennes did not appear to have suffered very much from +invasion as far as he could make out; and whether the region was heavily +occupied by an invading army he could not determine from the glimpses he +obtained out of the car windows. + +The line, however, was vigilantly guarded; that he could see plainly +enough; but the sky-line of the low rolling country on either side might +be the limits of German occupation for all he could determine. + +Two nights' constant wakefulness had made him very sleepy. He drowsed +and nodded in his corner by the shaking window, rousing himself at +intervals to cast a watchful glance at Karen. + +She still slept like a worn-out child. + +In the west the sun was already level with the car windows--a +cherry-hued ball veiled slightly in delicate brown haze. The train had +stopped at a siding in a young woodland. He opened the window to the +fresh, sweet air and looked out at the yellowing autumn leaves which the +setting sun made transparent gold. + +It was very still; scarcely a sound except from very high in the air +somewhere came a faint clattering noise. And after a while he turned his +head and looked up at a flight of aeroplanes crossing the line at an +immense height. + +Stately, impressive, like a migration of wide-winged hawks, they glided +westward, the red sun touching their undersides with rose. And he +watched them until they became dots, and disappeared one by one in +mid-heaven. + +Presently, along the main track, came rushing a hospital train, the +carriages succeeding one another like flashes of light, vanishing into +perspective with a diminishing roar and leaving in its wake an odour of +disinfectants. + +Then the train he was on began to move; soldiers along the rails stood +at attention; a company of Uhlans cantered along a parallel road, +keeping pace with the cars for a while. Then the woods closed in again, +thick, shaggy forest land which blotted out the low-hanging sun. + +He closed the window, turned and glanced at Karen. She slept. And he lay +back in his corner and closed his haggard eyes. + +The next time he opened them the light in the car had become very dim. + +Twilight purpled the woods and hills; dusk was arriving swiftly. + +It was dark when, at a way station, a soldier opened the door, saluted, +and lighted the lamp in the compartment. The train lay there a long +while; they were unloading horses, cannon and waggons; teams were being +harnessed in the dark, guns limbered, cannoniers mounted, all in perfect +order and with a quiet celerity and an absence of noise and confusion +that fascinated Guild. + +Presently, and within a space of time almost incredible, the artillery +moved off into the darkness. He could hear the rhythmical trample of +horses, the crunch of wheels, sabres rattling, the subdued clank and +clatter of a field battery on the march. But he could see no lights, +distinguish no loud voices, no bugle-calls. Now and then a clear whistle +note sounded; now and then a horse snorted, excited by the open air. + +The car in which they were was now detached and sidetracked; the long +train backed slowly past and away into the darkness. + +And after a while another locomotive came steaming out of the obscurity +ahead; he heard them coupling it to the car in which he sat. The jar did +not awaken Karen. + +Presently they were in motion again; the tiled roof of an unlighted +railway station glided past the window; stars appeared, trees, a high +dark hill to the right. + +A military guard came through the corridor, lantern in hand, and told +Guild that the car was now entirely empty and at his disposal. + +So he rose and went forward where he could look out ahead and see the +dull glow of the smokestack and the ruddy light of the furnace. + +For a long while he stood there watching the moving silhouettes of +engineer and fireman. The sombre red light trembled on the rails and +swept the wayside trees or painted with fiery streaks the sides of a cut +or glittered along the rocky wet walls of tunnels. + +When at last he went back to the compartment, Karen was sitting up, +twisting her hair into shape. + +"Do you feel rested?" he asked cheerfully, seating himself beside her. + +"Yes, thank you. Where are we, Kervyn?" + +"I don't know." + +She was still busy with her hair, but her eyes remained on him. + +"Can I do anything for you? Do you need anything?" he asked. + +"I seem to need almost everything!" she protested, "including a bath and +a clergyman. Oh, Kervyn, _what_ a wedding journey! Is there anything +about me that resembles a bride? And I'm not even that, yet--just a +crumpled, soiled, disreputable child!" + +"You are absolutely adorable just as you are!" + +"No! I am unspeakable. And I want to be attractive to you. I really can +be very nice-looking, only you never saw me so----" + +"Dearest!" + +"I haven't had any clothes since I first met you!" she said excitedly. +"You know I can scarcely bear it to have you think of me this way. Will +I have time to buy a gown in Antwerp? How long will it take us to marry +each other? Because, of course, I shall not let you ride away with your +regiment until you are my husband." + +She flushed again, and the tears sprang to her eyes. It was plain that +her nerves had given way under the long strain. + +"Kervyn! Only yesterday war meant almost nothing to me. And look at me +now!--look at the girl you saw in England only a few days ago!--a woman +today!--a wife tomorrow, please God--and the fear of this war already +overwhelming me." + +She brushed the starting tears from her eyes; they filled again. She +said miserably: "We women all inherit sorrow, it seems, the moment our +girlhood leaves us. A few days ago I didn't know what it was to be +afraid. Then you came. And with you came friendship. And with friendship +came fear--fear for _you_!... And then, very swiftly, love came; and my +girlhood was gone--gone--like yesterday--leaving me alone in the world +with you and love and war!" + +He drew her face against his shoulder: + +"This world war is making us all feel a little lonely," he said. "The +old familiar world is already changing under our bewildered eyes. It is +a totally new era which is dawning; a new people is replacing the +inhabitants of earth, born to new thoughts, new ideals, new ambitions. + +"I think the old tyranny is already beginning to pass from men's souls +and minds; the old folk-ways, the old and out-worn terrors, the +tinselled dogmas, the old false standards, the universal dread of that +absolute intellectual freedom which alone can make a truly new heaven +and a new earth. + +"All this is already beginning to pass away in the awful intellectual +revelation which this world war is making hour by hour. + +"What wonder that we feel the approaching change, the apprehension of +that mortal loneliness which must leave us stripped of all that was +familiar while the old order passes--vanishes like mist at dawn." + +He bent and touched her hand with his lips: + +"But there will be a dawn, Karen. Never doubt it, sweet!" + +"Shall our children see it--if God is kind to us?" she whispered. + +"Yes. If God is very kind, I think that we shall see it, too." + +The girl nodded, pressing her cheek against his, her eyes clear and +sweetly grave. + +He said: "No man ever born, since Christ, has dared to be himself. No +woman, either.... I think our children will begin to dare." + +She mused, wide-eyed, wondering. + +"And he who takes up a sword," he said in a low voice, "shall find +himself alone like a mad dog in a city street, with every living soul +bent upon his extermination. + +"Thus will perish emperors and kings. Our children's children shall have +heard of them, marvelling that we had lived to see them pass away into +the mist of fable." + +After a while she lifted her face and looked at him out of wistful eyes: + +"Meanwhile _you_ fight for them," she said. + +"I am of today--a part of the mock mystery and the tarnished tinsel. +That grey old man of Austria quarrels with his neighbour of Servia, and +calls out four million men to do his murders for him. And an Emperor in +white and steel buckles on his winged helmet summons six million more in +the name of God. + +"That is a tragedy called 'Today.' But it is the last act, Karen. +Already while we hold the stage the scene shifters are preparing the +drama called 'Tomorrow.' + +"Already the last cues are being given; already the company that held +the stage is moving slowly toward the eternal wings. The stage is to be +swept clean; everything must go, toy swords and cannon, crowns and +ermine, the old and battered property god who required a sea of blood +and tears to propitiate him; the old and false idol once worshiped as +Honour, and set upon a pedestal of dead bones. All these must go, +Karen--are already going.... But--I am in the cast of 'Today'; I may +only watch them pass, and play my part until the curtain falls." + +They remained silent for a long time. The train had been running very +slowly. Presently it stopped. + +Guild rose and went to the door of the compartment, where a lantern +glimmered, held high. Soldiers opened the door; an officer of Guard +Cuirassiers saluted. + +"We control the line no farther," he said. "Telegraphic orders direct me +to send you forward with a flag." + +"May I ask where we are?" said Guild. + +"Not far from Antwerp. Will you aid Madam to descend? Time presses. We +have a motor car at your disposal." + +He turned, aided Karen to the wooden platform, which was thronged with +heavy cavalrymen, then lifted out their luggage, which a soldier in +fatigue cap took. + +"There was also a box," said Guild to the officer of Cuirassiers. + +"It is already in the tonneau." He drew a telegram from his pocket and +handed it to Guild, and the young man read it under the flickering +lantern light: + + CAPTAIN THE COMTE D'YVOIR: + + I am told that I shall recover. It has been, so far, between us, + only the sword; but I trust, one day, it shall be the hand. Luck + was against me. Not your fault. + + I send to you and to my daughter my respect and my good will. + Until a more auspicious day, then, and without rancour. + + Your friend the enemy, + VON REITER, Maj.-Gen'l. + +Karen, reading over his shoulder, pressed his arm convulsively. Tears +filled her eyes, but she was smiling. + +"May we send a wire?" asked Guild of the officer. + +An orderly came with pencil and telegraph blank. Guild wrote: + + We are happy to learn that you are to recover. Gratitude, + respect, salute from me; from her, gratitude and love. It will + always be the hand. May the auspicious day come quickly. + + GUELDRES, Capt. Reserve. + +The orderly took the blank; Guild returned the salute of the Cuirassier +and followed the soldier who was carrying their luggage. + +An automobile stood there, garnished with two white lanterns and a pair +of white flags. + +A moment later they were speeding through the darkness out across a vast +dim plain. + +An officer sat in the front seat beside a military chauffeur; behind +them, on a rumble, was seated a cavalryman. + +In a few minutes the first challenge came; they stopped; helmeted +figures clustered around them, a few words were whispered, then on they +rolled, slowly, until there came another challenge, another delay; and +others followed in succession as the tall phantoms of Uhlans loomed up +around them in the night. + +Two of these lancers wheeled and accompanied the automobile at a canter. +One of the riders was a trumpeter; and very soon the car halted and the +Uhlan set his trumpet to his lips and sounded it. + +Almost immediately a distant bugle answered. The cavalryman on the +rumble stood up, hung one of the lanterns to a white flag, and waved it +slowly to and fro. Then the mounted Uhlan tied the flag to his +lance-tip, hung the lantern to it, and raised it high in the air. +Already the chauffeur had piled their luggage by the roadside; the +officer got out, came around, and opened the door. As Karen descended he +gave her his arm, then saluted and sprang to his place. The car backed +in a half circle, turned, backed again, swung clear around, and went +humming away into the darkness. + +From the shadowy obscurity ahead came the trample of horses. + +"Halt! Who goes there?" cried the mounted lancer. + +"Parlementaire with a flag!" + +The Uhlan trumpeter sounded the parley again, then, reversing his +trumpet, reined in and sat like a statue, as half a dozen cloaked riders +walked their horses up under the rays of the lantern which dangled from +the Uhlan's lifted lance. + +A cavalryman wearing a jaunty Belgian forage cap leaned from his saddle +and looked earnestly at Guild. + +"Who is this, if you please?" he asked curiously. + +"Reserve cavalry officer and his wife," said the Uhlan crisply. "Orders +are to deliver them to you." + +The Belgian lieutenant had already recognized the uniform of the Guides; +so had the other cavalrymen; and now they were hastily dismounting and +leading their horses forward. + +"Karen," said Guild unsteadily, "it's my own regiment!" And he stepped +forward and took the lieutenant's hands in both of his. His features +were working; he could not speak, but the troopers seemed to understand. + +They gave Karen a horse; Guild lifted her to the saddle, shortened the +stirrup, and set her sideways. + +They offered him another horse, but he shook his head, flung one arm +over Karen's saddle and walked on slowly beside her stirrup. + +Behind them the clatter of retreating hoofs marked the return of the +Uhlans. From somewhere in the darkness a farm cart rumbled up and +cavalrymen lifted in their luggage. + +Now, under the clustered planets the cart and the troopers moved off +over a wide, smooth road across the plain. + +And last of all came Karen with Guild on foot beside her. + +[Illustration: "And last of all came Karen with Guild on foot beside +her"] + +Her horse stepped slowly, cautiously; her slim hand lay on her lover's +shoulder, his arm was around her, and his cheek rested against her +knees. + +All the world was before them now, with all that it can ever hold for +the sons of men--the eternal trinity, inexorable, unchangeable--Death, +and Life, and Love. + + + + + CHAPTER XXVI + + AMICUS DEI + + + I + + _Through the April meadows ambling + Where the new born lambs are gamb'ling + Cometh May and vanisheth;-- + Cometh lovely June a-rambling;-- + July follows out of breath + Scattering the playful swallows; + On her heels a Shepherd follows, + All dolled up like Old Man Death._ + + II + + _While he capers, pipes, and prances, + Meadows wither where he dances; + Suddenly the sunshine ends! + Shrinking from his grinning glances, + Every blossom wilts and bends. + Spectral forests rise and tower, + Bursting into crimson flower, + And an iron rain descends._ + + III + + _Shepherd, Shepherd, lithely whirling, + To your screaming pipes a-skirling,_ + _Tell me why you blithely dance? + But the shrilling tempest, hurling + Shrivelled blossoms of Romance, + Answered: "Help! For Christ is dying!" + And I heard the pipes replying: + "Let the Friend of God advance!"_ + + IV + + Prince of the Vanguard, armed from head to heel, + And reassuring God amid your bayonets + Where the Imperial standard frets + And the sun sets + Across five million marching acolytes in steel, + Red looms a ruined world against the West, + Red lie its dead beneath your sombre crest, + And redly drips your sword + And the lances of your horde + Where all things died, the loveliest and best. + In this dead land there stirs no pulse, no breath, + For, where you ride, on your right hand rides Death. + + V + + God's ally, self-ordained to wield His rod, + Trampling His will into the heretics, + Leveling their shrines to heaps of bricks, + How the red stain sticks + To the ten million pair of boots that plod! + Quickly on Him your Iron Cross bestow + That He may wash you whiter than the snow. + + VI + + Prince of the Vanguard, heed no bleeding clod + Left on the reeking sod among your myrmidons + Where the anathema of your Huns + Hurled from iron guns + Dashes a million frightened souls to God! + Bright shines the promise of the Prince of Peace: + "Sheer you My sheep; garner their fleece,"-- + Or was it "feed" He said? + Too late! His sheep are dead. + All things must die, and even Death shall cease. + Then the Almighty on His throne may nod + Unvexed by martyrs importuning God. + + THE END + + + + + Transcriber Notes: + +Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_. + +Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS. + +Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of +the speakers. Those words were retained as-is. + +The illustrations have been moved so that they do not break up +paragraphs and so that they are next to the text they illustrate. Thus +the page number of the illustration might not match the page number in +the List of Illustrations, and the order of illustrations may not be the +same in the List of Illustrations and in the book. + +Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected +unless otherwise noted. + +On page 5, "aid" was replaced with "aide". + +On page 41, "night table" was replaced with "night-table". + +On page 63, a period was added after "studying her face". + +On page 63, a period was added after "roots of her hair". + +On page 76, a period was added after "he said". + +On page 78, "satched" was replaced with "satchel". + +On page 104, "whisperd" was replaced with "whispered". + +On page 111, two periods were replaced with one. + +On page 131, a quotation mark was added after "9--18--4--19.". + +On page 160, "had came" was replaced with "had come". + +On page 182, a period was added after "courage nor intellect". + +On page 205, a period was added after "her chin meditatively". + +On page 274, a quotation mark was added after "I remember." + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Who Goes There!, by Robert W. Chambers + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40696 *** |