The Old Blood Part 19

"And there--where my finger points!"

She stepped a little behind him and looked along his arm. Beyond the fingers' end, breaking out of the mantle of night, were one-two-three-four bright, sharp flashes in regular succession, followed by reports, one-two-three-four.

"Listen!"

There was a rumble of wheels on the main road, mingled with the shouts of men, very audible once one's mind was centred on it.

"The near, sharp flashes are from the French guns! The others are the burst of sh.e.l.ls! They are fighting there--there in sight of us!" Helen exclaimed, gripping Phil's arm. "The war has come to Mervaux! This will be terrible for mother! We must be careful how we break the news to her."

"Yes, she must go," said Phil. "Wait!"

He was straining his eyes at something which she could net see.

Finally she made out a moving, lumpish sort of procession coming from the road. As it drew nearer she recognised it as a battery of guns, which stopped behind a clump of woods in a hollow. She heard the commands and saw the groups of horses swing round and then go to the rear.

"I'll speak to them. Perhaps they can tell us what to expect," said Phil.

"Shan't I go with you? My French may help."

"Yes, that's so. Shall I never forget that everybody doesn't speak English and that only the English really understand my French?"

Together they walked across the dewy fields till an officer of the battery flashed his electric pocket lamp in their faces, as he stepped from among his men busy emplacing the _soixante-quinze_ for action.

"Monsieur! What is your business here? Who are you?" he asked.

"I am an American stopping at the chateau over there and this is my cousin," Phil managed to say in his school French.

"His accent is not German, you will agree, _mon capitaine_!" put in Helen.

"Nor yours, but Parisian, Mademoiselle!" He was very polite, but the voice was tired. "You had better go back to the chateau and stay, lest your purpose be misunderstood. We are very sharp about such things in war time."

"How is it going?" They asked the question together; the question of all France.

"It is not for an artilleryman to say; but if I were you and you have the means I'd get away--not that the Germans may come here, but there may be sh.e.l.l-fire. If you remain and there is sh.e.l.ling, go into the cellar. And don't alarm the villagers. They glut the road with their carts."

"You are very kind. Good luck for France!"

"For France! _Au revoir, Monsieur_!"

The two cousins were startled by the crashes of a salvo from the battery before they were halfway back to the chateau grounds.

CHAPTER XIII

A MATTER OF GALLANTRY

After Helen had left the room, Henriette staring at the closed door suddenly swept toward it and swung it half open, only to shut it with a bang. Doubtfully she turned, then sprang to the window as if to call Helen back. She had a glimpse of her sister on the path, but again her impulse was arrested.

Now she sat down on the edge of the bed, pressed her fingers to her temples, and for a while was motionless except for the restless tapping of her foot on the floor. At length her hands dropped to her side, the tapping ceased and, with a shrug of her shoulders, she rose, turned on the lights and looked at herself in the mirror, where she had always found the solution of the few problems that had ever vexed her. As rea.s.suring this in her present mood as for the miser to find his gold still there when he opens his strong box upon returning from a journey.

She smiled at the mirror and the mirror smiled back, and she allowed herself a prolonged, luxurious sigh.

In the cup of valley where the chateau was hidden, surrounded by walls of trees, the sound of the distant artillery duel was inaudible; but the sharp blasts of the _soixante-quinze_ from behind the clump of woods prevented any second sigh. She flew to the window. Outside the silence of the night and again that unmistakable sound. She leaned against the cas.e.m.e.nt for support, trembling.

Madame Ribot, also looking into a mirror, had also sprung to the window and also leaned against the cas.e.m.e.nt in a convulsion of trembling. At almost the same instant mother and daughter, such was their likeness of nature, recovered their volition in the demand for companionship in danger. Even with men it is largely the herd instinct which makes armies brave. The two women met on the landing and involuntarily clasped each other's hands, and the fact of being together took the tremor out of their limbs. Madame Ribot became articulate. It was her duty as the elder, the parent, to show initiative.

"Where is Cousin Phil?" she asked.

"Out in the grounds."

"And Helen?"

"With him."

There was rea.s.surance to her strictly feminine mind in the utterance of that masculine p.r.o.noun. The guns were silent for the time being; out of doors was only the moist stillness of night.

"We must find them," said Madame Ribot, starting down the stairs.

As they reached the sitting-room the battery began a vicious spasm of drum-head fire. Madame Ribot grasped the nearest thing to steady herself, which was the table. She broke into a petulant rage which defied her fears with the truth of her heart.

"Truckleford! That's it! There's no war in England. Truckleford and the bore of an old parson and his wife! I have nothing to do with this beastly war. Why couldn't they keep it away from Mervaux?"

"Yes, Truckleford!" a.s.sented Henriette.

"If we can get there," continued her mother. "We don't know what may happen. The Germans are blowing chateaux and villages to pieces. If we can get there! Why doesn't Helen come? Doesn't that cousin know we are here alone? He probably thinks all this is another spectacle for an American tourist."

The firing ceased as suddenly as it had begun, her words sounding shrewish in the silence and uttered in the face of Phil and Helen as they entered together. Phil was smiling in a way that was helpful and Helen's manner was that of the elation of a great experience.

"It must have been awful for you, not knowing what it all meant and coming so suddenly!" she said, at sight of her mother's drawn features.

Briefly she told what the battery commander had said; and then naturally, for the first time in her life, became the family leader.

"The thing is for everybody to pack," she added, "and I'll find out about the trains and getting a cart to the station."

"Yes, the government takes all the horses and the trains and even then they can't stop the Germans!" Madame Ribot complained.

"At least you will let me look up the starting time," Phil urged. "I know enough French for that."

"You could not ask without alarming the village," she replied. "I know whom to go to for a conveyance."

Further concern on this score was abated by the arrival of two gallants, neck and neck, for Count de la Grange and General Rousseau, breathless, reached the chateau together. They addressed themselves to Madame Ribot in characteristic fashion; the General as became a soldier, the Count as became the old n.o.blesse come to the succour of a lady in distress.

"The French army will hold," said the General. "We are only drawing the Germans on; but being in the sphere of operations, it will not be comfortable for you here and, though you are in no danger, I think an early departure advisable."

"The government has left Paris," said the Count, not failing to appear important, "as I have just learned through trustworthy sources." (The station master had told him.)

"Politicians! Cravens!" growled the General.

"What does one expect from a republic?" demanded the Count.

"I have served both the republic and the empire, but I always served France!" replied the General. "The army will hold. Madame Ribot, pack such things as you need. Rest perfectly a.s.sured. I am at your service."