Lucile Triumphant Part 29

"Look at that bank of clouds over there, Lucile," said Archie, pointing to a gigantic cloud formation, black and threatening, and moving swiftly in their direction. "By the way, I take back all I said about your prophecies this morning; it sure looks as if we were in for it now.

Wonder what Mr. Applegate thinks of it."

What Mr. Applegate thought of it proved to be certain confirmation of their fears. He stood regarding the threatening sky-line with an anxious frown on his forehead. A moment later a sudden gust of wind struck the boat, heeling it so far to one side that they had to grip the rail and each other to keep from falling, while the vivid flash of lightning, followed by a low, ominous roll of thunder, made them draw closer together.

The captain was roused to sudden action. Turning to his guests, he said, "If you folks don't want to get wet, you had better make your way down below. The storm is due to break any minute now."

Obediently, but reluctantly, they followed directions, descending into the now almost twilight gloom of the cabin.

"Goodness! Whoever would have thought it would get dark so quickly?" said Anita Derby, fearfully. "If there is one thing I detest it is a thunderstorm."

"I think it's kind of exciting," said Lucile, snuggling into a corner of the great leather-cushioned settee that ran around three sides of the cabin and pushing aside a curtain that obstructed her view. "I've always wanted to be on the water in a storm. Oh, look at that flash! Did you ever see anything so vivid?" But her voice was drowned in the great crash of thunder that followed it.

It struck the earth with terrific force; then retired, grumbling and muttering like some tremendous monster robbed of its prey. Then the rain began, pouring down in torrents, dashing itself upon the cabin roof and windows with such violence it seemed solid wood and gla.s.s must give way before it. It raged; it danced in frenzy; it hurled itself in stinging dagger points upon the deck, while the wind shrieked a weirdly wild accompaniment.

"It's a hurricane!" shouted Jessie above the wind, and some way in the semi-darkness she found her way to Lucile's side, where Evelyn had come before her. It was strange how the three friends clung together instinctively.

"Oh, Lucy, do you suppose we could possibly be swamped?"

"Of course not," said Lucile, trying with difficulty to be rea.s.suring, as a sudden lurch of the boat sent her back against the cushions. "Didn't you hear the captain say we were perfectly safe?"

"How's this for a storm, eh?" yelled Phil, balancing with difficulty. "If it wasn't for Mother, I'd go on deck and watch."

"And get struck by lightning," said Lucile. "Oh-h!" as another flash rent the darkness, followed by a terrific crash of thunder. "This can't last long."

"Don't be alarmed, any one." It was Mr. Applegate's voice, and though they couldn't locate him in the gloom, it was a comfort just to hear him speak. "It's only a hard shower and an unusually strong wind. It will blow itself out in ten minutes."

The captain was right, and in less time than he allowed the storm began to abate; the flashes of lightning became less frequent, the thunder less and less fierce, and the gloom began to lighten so they could distinguish each other. Slowly and reluctantly the wind died away until only the rolling of the boat remained to testify to its violence.

As soon as Mr. Applegate thought it wise to venture on deck the whole party very willingly repaired there. The sky was still a dull, leaden color, but around the spot where the sun was hiding behind the banked-up clouds shone a misty radiance, sure prophecy of brightness to come.

They were still finding it rather hard to recover their former hilarious spirits when, fifteen minutes later the sky opened as if by magic, letting forth a burst of golden sunshine that flooded the river and danced on the water so gladly and joyously that the girls and boys shouted with delight.

"You wonderful old sun!" cried Lucile. "Why, it makes the world a different place to live in!"

"It is all the difference between night and day," said Major Ridgely, Gordon's father, a tall, well-built man with a ma.s.s of iron-gray hair framing a strong-featured face--the face of a scholar and a gentleman.

"And it's like the difference," he continued, slowly and with emphasis, "it's like the difference between peace and--war."

There was silence for a full moment while the young folks regarded him with astonishment and interest, for they sensed a deeper meaning behind his words.

"You mean," it was Mr. Payton that spoke, "you mean, Major, that you think there is any immediate danger of--war?"

"War--is--imminent." The Major spoke slowly, p.r.o.nouncing each word with exaggerated distinctness. "I am no prophet, sir, but, unless I am very much mistaken, the month of August will see part of this continent plunged in the bloodiest war the world has ever known."

"War! War!" The word ran from one to the other, as the Major continued:

"It has been coming for years. For years the interests and ambitions of at least two great nations--Germany and Russia--have been antagonistic.

For years the countries of Europe have been looking forward to the time when the slender strand of national amity would be snapped like a thread and the nations plunged into deadly conflict. And now, it seems to me, the time is ripe!"

The young folks had been drinking in the conversation eagerly. War! Why, they had read of war, of course, in their history books; but war, in their time, in their generation, under their very noses, as it were! Why, it was impossible!

But the Major was speaking again. "For years the sole aim and goal of the German house of Hohenzollern has been the perfection to a marvelous degree of her policy of militarism. Why, there is not a man in the whole German Empire, who, at the command of his country, could not take his place, a trained soldier, in the tremendous, perfected military machine that is the German army."

"Why, Dad, does that mean that we may have to fight?" fairly shouted Phil, who could not restrain himself a moment longer. "Now, right away----"

"We won't son," said his father, kindly. "Thank Heaven, we will have the broad Atlantic between us and the horrors of war!"

"War? Who talks of war?" cried little Mrs. Applegate, coming breezily up to them from the depths, where she had probably been giving some very important instructions for dinner. "I won't have the ugly word spoken on board my ship. Why, everybody looks as if they had seen a ghost. What have you been talking about?"

"Why, you heard, my dear," said her husband, kindly. "We were simply discussing the possibility of----"

"Stop!" shrieked the little woman, clapping her hands to her ears. "I won't have it! Somebody start the phonograph--do!"

Gordon laughingly obeyed and soon they were all dancing merrily as if the great cloud of war were not hanging over all Europe. When the young folks were tired of dancing they settled themselves comfortably on the deck, talking, laughing, singing college songs, and otherwise enjoying themselves.

It was not till evening, when they had bidden their hosts good-night, after thanking them heartily for "the most glorious day they had ever spent," that the topic of the afternoon was again referred to.

"Do you think there is really any possibility of war?" Lucile asked of Archie, as they were nearing the hotel.

"There's no telling," he answered, seriously. "It looks rather like it now. You and I needn't worry, anyhow; we won't get any of it. Unless," he added, whimsically, "unless you should decide to go as a Red Cross nurse.

Then I might even desert the Red, White and Blue and volunteer my services in the war."

And so they parted, with an almost imperceptible cloud shadowing their gayety. Little did Archie think, when he declared so confidently that "they wouldn't get any of it," that before the summer was over, they would experience to some infinitesimal extent the cruel, relentless, crushing power of that tremendous grinding machine men term--WAR!

CHAPTER XX

CROSSING THE CHANNEL

Two days later our party started for France by way of Dover. They parted regretfully from their friends, who were obliged to remain in London a few days longer, and it is safe to say the others, the boys at least, were even more sorry to part from them. They had not expected any one to see them off, and so it was a complete surprise when they found, not only the d.i.c.kensons and Archie, but all the rest of the jolly yachting party, waiting to say good-by to them and speed them on their way.

Our girls were showered with good wishes and pleadings from the boys not to "forget them altogether in the gay and riotous life of Paris." They promised laughingly, thankful to their friends for making the parting a so much easier one than they had antic.i.p.ated.

The little packet steamed away from the dock and the girls waved to the group on the wharf and the group on the wharf waved to them until they were out of sight.

"Wasn't that lovely of them?" fairly beamed Lucile, as she turned from the last wave at the little dots that had been people. "I think they are the jolliest crowd I've ever met. Jessie, your bow is crooked; hold still a minute. There, it's all right now. Oh, girls, I'm so happy that, if some one doesn't hold me down, I'll go up in the air like a balloon and sit on that fluffy white cloud. No, that one over there, the one that looks like a canary bird."

"Goodness! She's quite romantic!" said Jessie, squinting up at the cloud in question. "It looks more like an elephant to me."

"To come down from the discussion of clouds and elephants," began Evelyn, "to every-day matters, I wonder if that Frenchman we met on the steamer--what was his name? Oh, yes, I remember; Monsieur Charloix--I wonder if he's found that girl yet."

"And the fortune," added Lucile. "Don't forget to mention the most important part. I've----"

"Lucy, how very mercenary!" reproved Jessie.

"Don't you call my sister names," said Phil, who was always pretending surprise at Jessie's long words.