The Girl from Alsace Part 21

He drew a quick breath. What then? He closed his eyes dizzily--what had she said? "A file of soldiers in front, a wall behind!" But that should never be! They must kill him first! And then he sickened as he realized how puny he was, how utterly powerless to protect her----

He heard shuffling footsteps approach along the hall, and a glimmer of light showed beneath the door. For an instant Stewart stared at it uncomprehending--then he smiled to himself. The girl, quicker witted than he, had pulled away the things that had been stuffed there.

"Who is it?" called the voice of their landlady.

"It is I, Frau Ritter," answered the voice of the police agent. "Open quickly."

A key rattled in a lock, the door was opened, and the party stepped inside.

Stewart, at the window, raised the sash and pulled back the bolt. He could hear the confused murmur of voices--men's voices----

Then he felt a warm hand in his and lips at his ear.

"It is the person from Stra.s.sburg," she breathed. "He has been brought here for the night. There is no danger. Bolt the shutter again--but softly."

She was gone again, and Stewart, with a deep breath that was almost a sob, thrust home the bolt. The voices were clearer now--or perhaps it was the singing of his blood that was stilled--and he could hear their words.

"You will give this gentleman a room," said the secret agent.

"Yes, Excellency."

"How are your other guests?"

"I have heard nothing from them, Excellency, since they retired."

Suddenly Stewart felt his hat lifted from his head and a hand rumpling his hair.

"Take off your coat," whispered a voice. "Open the door a little and demand less noise. Say that I am asleep!"

It was a call to battle, and Stewart felt his nerves stiffen. Without a word he threw off his coat and tore off his collar. Then he moved away the chair from before the door, opened it, and put one eye to the crack.

There were five people in the hall--the woman, the secret agent, two soldiers, and a man in civilian attire.

"What the deuce is the matter out there?" he demanded.

It did his heart good to see how they jumped at the sound of his voice.

"Your pardon, sir," said the officer, stepping toward him. "I hope we have not disturbed you."

"Disturbed me? Why, I thought you were knocking the house down!"

"Frau Ritter is a heavy sleeper," the other explained with a smile. "You will present my apologies to Madame."

"My wife is so weary that even this has not awakened her, but I hope----"

"What is it, Tommy?" asked a sleepy voice from the darkness behind him.

"To whom are you talking out there?"

"Your pardon, madame," said the officer, raising his voice, and doubtless finding a certain piquancy in the situation. "You shall not be disturbed again--I promise it," and he signed for his men to withdraw.

"Good-night, sir."

"Good-night!" answered Stewart, and shut the door.

He was so shaken with mirth that he scarcely heard the outer door close.

Then he staggered to the bed and collapsed upon it.

"Oh, little comrade!" he gasped. "Little comrade!" and he buried his head in the clothes to choke back the hysterical shouts of laughter which rose in his throat.

"Hush! Hush!" she warned him, her hand on his shoulder. "Get your coat and hat. Be quick!"

The search for those articles of attire sobered him. He had never before realized how large a small room may become in the dark! His coat he found in one corner; his hat miles away in another. His collar and tie seemed to have disappeared utterly, and he was about to abandon them to their fate, when his hand came into contact with them under the bed. He felt utterly exhausted, and sat on the floor panting for breath. Then somebody stumbled against him.

"Where have you been?" her voice demanded impatiently. "What have you been doing?"

"I have been around the world," said Stewart. "And I explored it thoroughly."

Her hand found his shoulder and shook it violently.

"Is this a time for jesting? Come!"

Stewart got heavily to his feet.

"Really," he protested, "I wasn't jesting----"

"Hush!" she cautioned, and suddenly Stewart saw her silhouetted against the window and knew that it was open. Then he saw her peer cautiously out, swing one leg over the sill, and let herself down outside.

"Careful!" she whispered.

In a moment he was standing beside her in the narrow street. She caught his hand and led him away close in the shadow of the wall.

The night air and the movement revived him somewhat, and by a desperate effort of will he managed to walk without stumbling; but he was still deadly tired. He knew that he was suffering from the reaction from the manifold adventures and excitements of the day, more especially the reaction from despair to hope of the last half hour, and he tried his best to shake it off, marveling at the endurance of this slender girl, who had borne so much more than he.

She went straight on along the narrow street, close in the shadow of the houses, pausing now and then to listen to some distant sound, and once hastily drawing him deep into the shadow of a doorway as a patrol pa.s.sed along a cross-street.

Then the houses came to an end, and Stewart saw that they were upon a white road running straight away between level fields. Overhead the bright stars shone as calmly and peacefully as though there were no such thing as war in the whole universe, and looking up at them, Stewart felt himself tranquilized and strengthened.

"Now what?" he asked. "I warn you that I shall go to sleep on my feet before long!"

"We must not stop until we are across the frontier. It cannot be farther than half a mile."

Half a mile seemed an eternity to Stewart at that moment; besides, which way should they go? He gave voice to the question, after a helpless look around, for he had completely lost his bearings.

"Yonder is the Great Bear," said the girl, looking up to where that beautiful constellation stretched brilliantly across the sky. "What is your word for it--the Ladle, is it not?"

"The Dipper," Stewart corrected, reflecting that this was the first time she had been at loss for a word.

"Yes--the Dipper. It will help us to find our way. All I know of astronomy is that a line drawn through the two stars of the bowl points to the North Star. So that insignificant little star up yonder must be the North Star. Now, what is the old formula--if one stands with one's face to the north----"

"Your right hand will be toward the east and your left toward the west,"

prompted Stewart.