diff options
Diffstat (limited to '40696-8.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 40696-8.txt | 11838 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 11838 deletions
diff --git a/40696-8.txt b/40696-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 8603a3e..0000000 --- a/40696-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,11838 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Who Goes There!, by Robert W. Chambers - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Who Goes There! - -Author: Robert W. Chambers - -Illustrator: A. I. Keller - -Release Date: September 7, 2012 [EBook #40696] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE! *** - - - - -Produced by Suzanne Shell, Ernest Schaal, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -[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 THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WHO GOES THERE! *** - -***** This file should be named 40696-8.txt or 40696-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/0/6/9/40696/ - -Produced by Suzanne Shell, Ernest Schaal, and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, -set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to -copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to -protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project -Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you -charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you -do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the -rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose -such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and -research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do -practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is -subject to the trademark license, especially commercial -redistribution. - - - -*** START: FULL LICENSE *** - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project -Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at -http://gutenberg.org/license). - - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy -all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. -If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the -terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or -entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement -and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" -or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the -collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an -individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are -located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from -copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative -works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg -are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project -Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by -freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of -this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with -the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by -keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project -Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in -a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check -the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement -before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or -creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project -Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning -the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United -States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate -access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently -whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, -copied or distributed: - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived -from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is -posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied -and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees -or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work -with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the -work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 -through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the -Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or -1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional -terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked -to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the -permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any -word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or -distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than -"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version -posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), -you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a -copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon -request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other -form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided -that - -- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is - owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he - has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the - Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments - must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you - prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax - returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and - sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the - address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to - the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." - -- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or - destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium - and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of - Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any - money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days - of receipt of the work. - -- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set -forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from -both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael -Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the -Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm -collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain -"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or -corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual -property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a -computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by -your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with -your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with -the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a -refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity -providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to -receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy -is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further -opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS' WITH NO OTHER -WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO -WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. -If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the -law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be -interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by -the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any -provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance -with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, -promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, -harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, -that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do -or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm -work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any -Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. - - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers -including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists -because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from -people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need, are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. -To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 -and the Foundation web page at http://www.pglaf.org. - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive -Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Its 501(c)(3) letter is posted at -http://pglaf.org/fundraising. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent -permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. -Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered -throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at -809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email -business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact -information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official -page at http://pglaf.org - -For additional contact information: - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To -SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any -particular state visit http://pglaf.org - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. -To donate, please visit: http://pglaf.org/donate - - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic -works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm -concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared -with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project -Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. - - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. -unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily -keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. - - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: - - http://www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. |