The Girl from Alsace Part 12

Stewart would have liked to retort that he had, as yet, had mighty few opportunities in private, but he judged it best to save that remark for the other side of the frontier.

"Just the same," she rattled on, "it was good of you to write so regularly while you were at Vienna. I am sure your letters helped with my cure. But you have not told me--have you secured our pa.s.sage?"

"I will know when we get to Brussels. Cook is trying to get us an outside room on the _Adriatic_."

"Do we go back to England?"

"Not unless we wish to. We can sail from Cherbourg."

They had reached the end of the platform, and, as they turned, Stewart found himself face to face with a bearded German who had been close behind them, and who shot a sharp glance at him and his companion before stepping aside with a muttered apology. Not until they had pa.s.sed him did Stewart remember that he had seen the man before. It was the surly pa.s.senger in the crowded compartment on the journey from Cologne.

His companion had not seemed to notice the fellow, and went on talking of the voyage home and how glad she would be to get there. Not until they turned again at the farther end, and found the platform for a moment clear around them, did she relax her guard.

"That man is a spy," she whispered, quickly.

"We are evidently still suspected. What sort of railroad ticket have you?"

"A book of Cook's coupons."

"I feared as much. You must rid yourself of it--it is quite possible that you will be searched at the frontier. No, no," she added, as Stewart put his hand to his pocket. "Not here! You would be seen--everything would be lost. I will devise a way."

Stewart reflected with satisfaction that only a few coupons were left in the book. But why should he be searched? He had thought the danger over; but he began uneasily to suspect that it was just beginning. Well, it was too late to draw back, even had he wished to do so; and most emphatically he did not. He was willing to risk a good deal for another hour of this companionship--and then there was that explanation at the end--his reward----

There was a sharp whistle down the line, and the train from Cologne rolled slowly in.

"First cla.s.s," said Stewart to Hans, as the latter picked up the luggage; and then he realized that they would be fortunate if they got into the train at all. The first five carriages were crowded with soldiers; then there were two carriages half-filled with officers, upon whom no one ventured to intrude. The three rear carriages were already crowded with a motley throng of excited civilians, and Stewart had resigned himself to standing up, when Hans shouted, "This way, sir; this way!" and started to run as fast as the heavy suit-cases would permit.

Stewart, staring after him, saw that an additional carriage was being pushed up to be attached to the train.

"That fellow has more brains than I gave him credit for," he said. "Come along!"

Before the car had stopped, Hans, with a disregard of the regulations which proved how excited he was, had wrenched open the door of the first compartment and clambered aboard. By the time they reached it, he had the luggage in the rack and sprang down to the platform with a smile of triumph.

"Good work!" said Stewart. "I didn't think you had it in you!" and he dropped a generous tip into the waiting hand. "Come, my dear," and he helped his companion aboard. Hans slammed the door shut after them, touched his cap, and hurried away. "Well, that was luck!" Stewart added, and dropped to the seat beside his companion. "But look out for the deluge in another minute!"

She was looking out of the window at the excited mob sweeping along the platform.

"The crowd is not coming this way," she said, after a moment. "A line of police is holding it back. I think this carriage is intended for the officers."

Stewart groaned.

"Then we shall have to get out! Take my advice and don't wait to be asked twice!"

"Perhaps they will not need this corner. In any case, we will stay until they put us out. If you are wise, you will forget all the German you know and flourish your pa.s.sport frequently. Germans are always impressed by a red seal!"

But, strangely enough, they were not disturbed. A number of officers approached the carriage, and, after a glance at its inmates, pa.s.sed on to the other compartments. Stewart, putting his head out of the window, saw that the line of police were still keeping back the crowd.

"Really," he said, "this seems too good to be true. It looks as if we were going to have this compartment to ourselves."

He turned smilingly to glance at her, and the smile remained frozen on his lips. For her face was deathly pale, her eyes were staring, and she was pressing her hands tight against her heart.

"You're not ill?" he asked, genuinely startled.

"Only very tired," she answered, controlling her voice with evident difficulty. "I think I shall try to rest a little," and she settled herself more comfortably in her corner. "The journey from Spa quite exhausted me." Then with her lips she formed the words "Be careful!"

"All right," said Stewart. "Go to sleep if you can."

She gave him a warning glance from under half-closed lids, then laid her head back against the cushions and closed her eyes.

Stewart, after a last look along the platform, raised the window half-way to protect his companion from the draft, then dropped into the corner opposite her and got out a cigar and lighted it with studied carelessness--though he was disgusted to see that his hand was trembling. He was tingling all over with the sudden sense of danger--tingling as a soldier tingles as he awaits the command to charge.

But what danger could there be? And then he thrilled at a sudden thought. Was this compartment intended as a trap? Had they been guided to it and left alone here in the hope that, thrown off their guard, they would in some way incriminate themselves? Was there an ear glued to some hole in the part.i.tion--the ear of a spy crouching in the next compartment?

Stewart pulled his hat forward over his eyes as though to shield them from the light. Then he went carefully back over the sequence of events which had led them to this compartment. It was Hans who had brought them to it--and Hans was a spy. It was he who had selected it, who had stood at the door so that they would go no farther. It was he who had slammed the door.

Was the door locked? Stewart's hand itched to try the handle; but he did not dare. Someone was perhaps watching as well as listening. But that they should be permitted to enter a carriage reserved for officers--that, on a train so crowded, they should be undisturbed in the possession of a whole compartment--yes, it was proof enough!

The station-master's whistle echoed shrilly along the platform, and the train glided slowly away.

Darkness had come, and as the train threaded the silent environs of the town, Stewart wondered why the streets seemed so gloomy. Looking again, he understood. Only a few of the street lights were burning. Already the economies of war had begun.

The train entered a long tunnel, at whose entrance a file of soldiers with fixed bayonets stood on guard. At regular intervals, the light from the windows flashed upon an armed patrol. Farther on, a deep valley was spanned by a great viaduct, and here again there was a heavy guard. The valley widened, and suddenly as they swept around a curve, Stewart saw a broad plain covered with flaring lights. They were the lights of field-kitchens; and, looking at them, Stewart realized that a mighty army lay encamped here, ready to be hurled against the French frontier.

And then he remembered that this was not the French frontier, but the frontier of Belgium. Could the landlady of the Kolner Hof have been mistaken? To make sure, he got out his Baedeker and looked at the map.

No; the French frontier lay away to the south. There was no way to reach it from this point save across Belgium. It was at Belgium, then, that the first blow was aimed--Belgium whose neutrality and independence had been guaranteed by all the Powers of Europe!

He put the book away and sat gazing thoughtfully out into the night. As far as the eye could reach gleamed the fires of the mighty bivouac. The army itself was invisible in the darkness, for the men had not thought it worth while to put up their shelter tents on so fine a night; but along the track, from time to time, pa.s.sed a shadowy patrol; once, as the train rolled above a road, Stewart saw that it was packed with transport wagons.

Then, suddenly, the train groaned to a stop.

"The frontier!" said Stewart to himself, and glanced at his companion, but she, to all appearance, was sleeping peacefully. "We shall be delayed here," he thought, "for the troops to detrain," and he lowered the window and put out his head to watch them do it.

The train had stopped beside a platform, and Stewart was astonished at its length. It stretched away and away into the distance, seemingly without end. And it was empty, save for a few guards.

The doors behind him were thrown open and the officers sprang out and hurried forward. From the windows in front of him, Stewart could see curious heads projecting; but the forward coaches gave no sign of life.

Not a door was opened; not a soldier appeared.

"Where are we? What has happened?" asked his companion's voice, and he turned to find her rubbing her eyes sleepily.

"We are at the frontier, I suppose," he answered. "No doubt we shall go on as soon as the troops detrain."

"I hope they will not be long."

"They haven't started yet, but of course--by George!" he added, in another tone, "they aren't getting out! The guards are driving the people out of the cars ahead of us!"

The tumult of voices raised in angry protest drew nearer. Stewart could see that the carriages were being cleared, and in no gentle manner.

There was no pause for explanation or argument--just a terse order which, if not instantly obeyed, was followed by action. Stewart could not help smiling, for, in that Babel of tongues, he distinguished a lot of unexpurgated American!

"There's no use getting into a fight with them," he said, philosophically, as he turned back into the compartment and lifted down his suit-cases. "We might as well get out before we're put out," and he tried to open the door.