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Page 9
"And I too," said Wharton, "though we may have to send to Berlin for our
captive host."
"Never fear," said Carstairs. "I wasn't born to be taken. What did
Captain Colton want with you, Scott, if it's no great military or state
secret?"
"To see Fernand Weber, the Alsatian, whom you must remember."
"Of course we recall him! Didn't we take that dive in the river
together? But he's an elusive chap, regular will-o'-the-wisp, messenger
and spy of ours, and other things too, I suppose."
"He's done me some good turns," said John. "Been pretty handy several
times when I needed a handy man most. He brought news that Mademoiselle
Julie Lannes and her servants, the Picards, father and daughter, are on
their way to or are at Chastel, a little village not far from here,
where the French have established a huge hospital for the wounded. She
left Paris in obedience to a letter from her brother, and we are to tell
Philip if we should happen to see him."
"Pretty girl! Deucedly pretty!" said Carstairs.
"I don't think the somewhat petty adjective 'pretty' is at all
adequate," said John with dignity.
"Maybe not," said Carstairs, noticing the earnest tone in his comrade's
voice. "She's bound to become a splendid woman. Is Weber still with the
captain?"
"No, he's gone on his mission, whatever it is."
"A fine night for travel," said Wharton sardonically. "A raw wind,
driving snow, pitchy darkness, slush and everything objectionable
underfoot. Yet I'd like to be in Weber's place. A curse upon the man who
invented life in the trenches! Of all the dirty, foul, squalid monotony
it is this!"
"You'll have to curse war first," said John. "War made the trench."
"Here comes a man with an electric torch," said Carstairs. "Something is
going to happen in our happy lives."
They saw the faint glimmer of the torch held low, and an orderly arrived
with a message from Captain Colton, commanding them to wake everybody
and to stand to their arms. Then the orderly passed quickly on with
similar orders for others.
"Old Never Sleep," said Carstairs, referring to Colton, "thinks we get
too much rest. Why couldn't he let us tuck ourselves away in our mud on
a night like this?"
"I fancy it's not restlessness," said John. "The order doubtless comes
from a further and higher source. Good old Papa Vaugirard is not more
than a quarter of a mile away."
"I hear they had to enlarge the trench for him," grumbled Carstairs.
"He's always bound to keep us stirring."
"But he watches over us like a father. They say his troops are in the
best condition of all."
The three young men traveled about the vast burrow along the main
trenches, the side trenches and those connecting. The order to be on
guard was given everywhere, and the men dragged themselves from their
sodden beds. Then they took their rifles and were ready. But it was dark
save for the glimmer of the little pocket electrics.
The task finished, the three returned to their usual position. John did
not know what to expect. It might be a device of Papa Vaugirard to drag
them out of a dangerous lethargy, but he did not think so. A kind heart
dwelled in the body of the huge general, and he would not try them
needlessly on a wild and sullen night. But whatever the emergency might
be the men were ready and on the right of the Strangers was that Paris
regiment under Bougainville. What a wonderful man Bougainville had
proved himself to be! Fiery and yet discreet, able to read the mind of
the enemy, liked by his men whom nevertheless he led where the danger
was greatest. John was glad that the Paris regiment lay so close.
"Nothing is going to happen," said Carstairs. "Why can't I lay me down
on my little muddy shelf and go to sleep? Nobody would send a dog out on
such a night!"
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