The Campfire Girls On The Field Of Honor Part 9

Again Sally surveyed the soiled bandage with disfavor. Apparently it had not been changed in many days, since it was encrusted with dirt and blood and having slipped had been pulled awkwardly back into place.

Temprementally, Sally Ashton hated the sight of blood and suffering. In the years of the Camp Fire training she had been obliged to study first aid, but she had left the practical application to the other girls. Her own tastes were domestic and she therefore had devoted her time to domestic affairs.

Now something must be done for the soldier whose presence in the old chateau and whose behavior were equally puzzling, and as there was no one else, Sally had no idea of shirking the immediate task. In her Camp Fire kit she always carried first aid supplies.

"If you will go to the room where you found the water and wash your arm as thoroughly as you can I will put on a fresh bandage for you," she offered. "Don't argue and don't be long, for something simply has to be done for you, you are in such a dreadful condition."

Even in the midst of feeling a little like Florence Nightingale, Sally preserved a due amount of caution. She had no idea of wandering about a tumble-down chateau with a strange soldier. In reality she was not so much afraid of him as of the house itself. She had the impression that the walls were ready to topple down and bury her.

When the soldier did not move, Sally beckoned him imperiously toward the open arch where she had remained standing just outside the walls.

"You are to come here, while I take off the old bandage. No one will see you and I am afraid to enter so dangerous a place."

The man obeyed, and Sally cut away the soiled linen, trying not to get too distinct an impression of the wound underneath. Yet what she saw alarmed her sufficiently, for she knew enough to realize that the wound required more scientific treatment than she felt able to give. "Now go and wash your arm," she directed, and without a word he went off.

During the ten minutes her self-imposed patient remained away, Sally seriously considered his puzzling situation and determined upon the advice she would offer.

In the first place, so far he had given her no explanation for his conduct.

Why was he in concealment? The possibility that the soldier might have committed a wrong which made it inc.u.mbent that he hide from justice did not occur to Sally. She simply determined that they would discuss the subject to some satisfactory end on his return.

The young man did look much better, having made an effort to cleanse his face as well as his wound, but as Sally took hold of his hand before beginning her task, she was startled to discover that he was suffering from a fever through neglect of his injury. This made her the more determined. Although appreciating her own inefficiency and disliking the work, there was nothing to be done at present but to go ahead with her own simple first-aid treatment. She had a bottle of antiseptic and clean surgical gauze.

As she wound the bandage, wishing she had taken the trouble to learn the art more skilfully, Sally announced:

"You must see a physician about your arm as soon as possible. You never have explained to me why you are hiding here. But in any case you cannot remain when you are ill and hungry and cold and require a great deal of attention. You must go into one of the villages to a hospital. While you were away I have been thinking what to do. You look to me too ill to walk very far and, as I am living not more than half a mile away, I will go back to our farm and tell my friends about you. Later I think I can arrange to come back for you in a motor and then we will drive you to one of the hospitals. I don't know as much about the French hospitals as my friends do, but of course everybody is anxious to do whatever is possible for the Allied soldiers."

Sally placed a certain amount of stress on the expression "Allied soldiers," but never for an instant believing in the possibility that her patient could belong to an enemy nationality.

"If you tell anyone you have discovered me here in hiding, it will be the last of me," the soldier declared.

By this time Sally was beginning to be troubled. Why did the young man look and speak so strangely? He seemed confused and worried and either unable to explain his actions, or else unwilling. Yet somehow one had the impression that he was a gentleman and there need be no fear of any lack of personal courtesy.

It was possible from his appearance to believe that he might be suffering from a mental breakdown. Sally recalled that many of the soldiers were affected in this way from sh.e.l.l shock or the long strain of battle.

"I suppose I must tell you something. In any case, I have to trust my fate in your hands and I know there is not one person in a thousand who would spare me. I was a prisoner and escaped from my captors. I don't know how I discovered this old house. I don't know how long I have been wandering about the country before I came here, only that I hid myself in the daytime and stumbled around seeking a place of refuge at night.

If you report me I suppose I will not be allowed even a soldier's death.

I shall probably be hung."

Suddenly the soldier laughed, such an unhappy, curious laugh that Sally had but one desire and that was to escape from the chateau and her strange companion at once and forever. Yet in spite of his vague and uncertain expression, the soldier's eyes were dark and fine and his features well cut. He was merely thin and haggard and dirty from his recent experiences.

From his uniform it was impossible to guess anything; at least, it was impossible for Sally, who had but scant information with regard to military accoutrements.

But even in the face of his confession she was not considering the soldier's nationality. He looked so miserable and ill, so like a sick boy, that the maternal spirit which was really strongly rooted in Sally Ashton's nature awakened. He could scarcely stand as he talked to her.

"Please sit down. I don't know what you are to do," she remonstrated. "I don't know _why_ you ran away or from whom, but no fate could be much worse than starving to death here in this old place alone. Yet certainly I don't want to give you up to--to anybody," she concluded lamely, as a matter of fact not knowing to whom one should report a runaway soldier.

This was a different Sally Ashton from the girl her family and friends ordinarily knew. The evanescent dimple had disappeared entirely and also the indolent expression in her golden brown eyes. She was frowning and her lips were closed in a firmer line.

At her suggestion the soldier had returned to the chair which he had been occupying at the moment of her intrusion. But Sally saw that although he was seated he was swaying a little and that again he had put up his uninjured arm to his head.

"Perhaps I can get away from here, if you will help me. I have escaped being caught so far. I only ask you to bring me a little food. Tomorrow I shall be stronger."

Unconsciously Sally sighed. What fate had ever driven her forth into this undesired adventure?

She did not like to aid a runaway prisoner, nor did she wish him to meet the disagreeable end he had suggested through any act of hers.

Any other one of the Camp Fire girls, Sally believed, would have given the soldier a lecture on the high ideals of patriotism, or of meeting with proper fort.i.tude whatever fate might overtake him. At least he would have been required to divulge his nationality, and if he were an enemy, of course there could be no hesitation in delivering him to justice.

However, Sally only found herself answering:

"Yes, I suppose I can manage to bring you something to eat once more.

But I cannot say when I can get here without anyone's knowing, so you must stay where you can hear when I call. Afterwards you must promise me to go away. I don't know what I ought to do about you."

Sally had gone a few yards from the chateau when she glanced back an instant toward the old stone ruins. The atmosphere of the afternoon had changed, the sun was no longer shining and the chateau lay deep in shadow.

A cold wind was blowing across the desolate fields. Sally was not ordinarily impressionable, yet at this moment she felt a curious sense of foreboding.

CHAPTER X

BREAKERS AHEAD

A little tired and also because her attention was occupied with her recent experience, Sally did not choose her way over the rough countryside so carefully and therefore managed to take a much longer time for her return to the farm.

Now that the sun had disappeared, the countryside seemed to have grown depressingly desolate. In the gray afternoon light the blackened tree trunks which had been partly burned were stark and ugly.

Under ordinary circ.u.mstances Sally was particularly susceptible to physical discomfort, yet this afternoon she was too concerned over her problem to be more than vaguely disturbed by her surroundings.

One thought continually a.s.sailed her. Would it be possible to appear among the other girls looking and behaving as if nothing unusual had occurred? For Sally had an honest and profound conviction that she had no talent for deception. How could she realize that she belonged to the type of women with whom dissimulation is a fine art once the exigencies of a situation required it? She had come to one definite conclusion, she would not betray the presence of the runaway soldier in the chateau for at least another twenty-four hours. She would take him food the next day and he might have the opportunity to attempt an escape. In all probability he would soon be captured and punished, and this was doubtless the fate he deserved; nevertheless Sally was glad that, in a cowardly fashion, she would not be directly responsible.

She looked forward to the evening and the next day with no joy, bitterly regretting that she had not spent her leisure hours in resting and reading as she had at first intended. Surely repose and a contented spirit were more to be desired than unexpected adventures!

Weary and dispirited, Sally finally arrived at home, only to be met in the front hall by Miss Patricia, who at once showed signs of an approaching storm.

As a matter of fact, she was excessively annoyed over a piece of information she had just received, so it was unfortunate that Sally should return at a moment when she must bear the brunt of it.

Moving a little listlessly up the broad uncarpeted stairs toward the bedroom she shared with her sister, the girl scarcely noticed the older woman's presence. She was hoping that Alice had not yet returned and that she might have a few moments to herself.

Miss Patricia opened the attack with her usual vigor.

"What do you mean, Sally, by going off this afternoon, knowing that I particularly needed your help? You must understand that it is highly improper for a young girl to tramp about over this French country alone.

Even if Polly Burton has permitted you Camp Fire girls the most extraordinary amount of freedom, she surely has realized this and warned you against such indiscretion. There is no way of guessing into what difficulty you may have already managed to entangle yourself!"

Sally felt herself flushing until her clear skin was suffused with glowing color.