The Maids of Paradise Part 4

Then, in silence, I led the horse forward through the open gate out into the wet meadow.

Wading knee-deep through soaking foliage, I piloted my horse with its mute burden across the fields; and, after a few minutes a violent desire to laugh seized me and persisted, but I bit my lip and called up a few remaining sentiments of decency.

As for my turkey-girl, she sat stiffly in the saddle, with a firmness and determination that proved her to be a stranger to horses. I scarcely dared look at her, so fearful was I of laughing.

As we emerged from the meadow I heard the cannon sounding again at a great distance, and this perhaps sobered me, for presently all desire of laughter left me, and I turned into the road which led through the birch thicket, anxious to accomplish my mission and have done with it as soon as might be.

"Are we near La Trappe?" I asked, respectfully.

Had she pouted, or sulked, or burst into reproaches, I should have cared little--in fact, an outburst might have relieved me.

But she answered me so sweetly, and, too, with such composure, that my heart smote me for what I had done to her and what I was still to do.

"Would you rather walk?" I asked, looking up at her.

"No, thank you," she said, serenely.

So we went on. The spectacle of a cavalryman in full uniform leading a cavalry horse on which was seated an Alsatian girl in bright peasant costume appeared to astonish the few people we pa.s.sed. One of these foot-farers, a priest who was travelling in our direction, raised his pallid visage to meet my eyes. Then he stole a glance at the girl in the saddle, and I saw a tint of faded color settle under his transparent skin.

The turkey-girl saluted the priest with a bright smile.

"Fortune of war, father," she said, gayly. "Behold! Alsace in chains."

"Is she a prisoner?" said the priest, turning directly on me. Of all the masks called faces, never had I set eyes on such a deathly one, nor on such pale eyes, all silvery surface without depth enough for a spark of light to make them seem alive.

"What do you mean by a prisoner, father?" I asked.

"I mean a prisoner," he said, doggedly.

"When the church cross-examines the government, the towers of Notre Dame shake," I said, pleasantly. "I mean no discourtesy, father; it is a proverb in Paris."

"There is another proverb," observed the turkey-girl, placidly.

"Once a little inhabitant of h.e.l.l stole the key to paradise. His punishment was dreadful. They locked him in."

I looked up at her, perplexed and irritated, conscious that she was ridiculing me, but unable to comprehend just how. And my irritation increased when the priest said, calmly, "Can I aid you, my child?"

She shook her head with a cool smile.

"I am quite safe under the escort of an officer of the Imperial--"

"Wait!" I said, hastily, but she continued, "of the Imperial Military Police."

Above all things I had not wanted it known that the Imperial Police were moving in this affair at La Trappe, and now this little fool had babbled to a strange priest--of all people in the world!

"What have the police to do with this harmless child?" demanded the priest, turning on me so suddenly that I involuntarily took a step backward.

"Is this the confessional, father?" I replied, sharply. "Go your way in peace, and leave to the police what alone concerns the police."

"Render unto Caesar," said the girl, quietly. "Good-bye, father."

Turning to look again at the priest, I was amazed to find him close to me, too close for a man with such eyes in his head, for a man who moved so swiftly and softly, and, in spite of me, a nervous movement of my hand left me with my fingers on the b.u.t.t of my pistol.

"What the devil is all this?" I blurted out. "Stand aside, father.

Do you think the Holy Inquisition is back in France? Stand aside then!

I salute your cloth!"

And I pa.s.sed on ahead, one hand on the horse's neck, the other touching the visor of my scarlet forage-cap. Once I looked back. The priest was standing where I had pa.s.sed him.

We met a dozen people in all, I think, some of them peasants, one or two of the better cla.s.s--a country doctor and a notary among them.

None appeared to know my turkey-girl, nor did she even glance at them; moreover, all answered my inquiries civilly enough, directing me to La Trappe, and professing ignorance as to its inhabitants.

"Why do all the people I meet carry bundles?" I demanded of the notary.

"Mon Dieu, monsieur, they are too near the frontier to take risks,"

he replied, blinking through his silver-rimmed spectacles at my turkey-girl.

"You mean to say they are running away from their village of Trois-Feuilles?" I asked.

"Exactly," he said. "War is a rude guest for poor folk."

Disgusted with the cowardice of the hamlet of Trois-Feuilles, I pa.s.sed on without noticing the man's sneer. In a moment, however, he repa.s.sed me swiftly, going in the same direction as were we, toward La Trappe.

"Wait a bit!" I called out. "What is your business in that direction, monsieur the notary?"

He looked around, muttered indistinctly about having forgotten something, and started on ahead of us, but at a sharp "Stop!" from me he halted quickly enough.

"Your road lies the other way," I observed, and, as he began to protest, I cut him short.

"You change your direction too quickly to suit me," I said. "Come, my friend the weather-c.o.c.k, turn your nose east and follow it or I may ask you some questions that might frighten you."

And so I left him also staring after us, and I had half a mind to go back and examine his portfolio to see what a snipe-faced notary might be carrying about with him.

When I looked up at my turkey-girl, she was sitting more easily in the saddle, head bent thoughtfully.

"You see, mademoiselle, I take no chances of not finding my friends at home," I said.

"What friends, monsieur?"

"My friends at La Trappe."

"Oh! And ... you think that the notary we pa.s.sed might have desired to prepare them for your visit, monsieur?"

"Possibly. The notary of Trois-Feuilles and the Chateau de la Trappe may not be unknown to each other. Perhaps even mademoiselle the turkey-girl may number the learned Trappists among her friends."

"Perhaps," she said.

Walking on along the muddy road beside her, arm resting on my horse's neck, I thought over again of the chances of catching Buckhurst, and they seemed slim, especially as after my visit the house at La Trappe would be vacant and the colony scattered, or at least out of French jurisdiction, and probably settled across the Belgian frontier.

Of course, if the government ordered the expulsion of these people, the people must go; but I for one found the order a foolish one, because it removed a bait that might attract Buckhurst back where we stood a chance of trapping him.