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Little comrade,a tale of the great war. 



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Cornell University 
Library 



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LITTLE COMRADE 

A TALE of the GREAT WAR 



BY -^ 

BURTON E. STEVENSON 

Author of "The Marathon Mystery," " The Dejtroyer," etc. 




NEW YORK 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
1915 



COFYRIGBT, I9I4i 
BY 

BURTON E. STEVENSON 



Copyright, 1915, 

BY 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 
Published March. 191S 



THE aUINN ft BODEN 00. PRESB 
RAHWAY, N. J. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PA(3E 

I. The Thirty-first of July . . . i 

II. The First RuksLiNGS . . . i8 

III. " State of War " . . . . 38 

IV. The Mystery of the Satin Slippers . 52 
V. One Way to Acquire a Wife . ■ . 59 

VI. The Snare 80 

VII. In the Trap 102 

VIII. Presto! Change! 130 

IX. The Frontier ... . . 151 

X. Fortune Frowns 172 

XI. The Night Attack . . . 196 

XII. An Army in Action . . . 214 

XIII. The Passage of the Meuse . . . 234 

XIV. The Last Dash 249 

XV. Disaster 267 

XVI. A Trust Fulfilled 285 



LITTLE COMRADE 

CHAPTER I 
THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 

" Let us have coffee on the terrace," Bloem sug- 
gested, and, as his companion nodded, lifted a finger 
to the waiter and gave the order. 

Both were a little sad, for this was their last 
meal together. Though they had known each other 
less than a fortnight, they had become fast friends. 
They had been thrown together by chance at the 
surgical congress at Vienna, where Bloem, finding 
the American's German lame and halting, had con- 
stituted himself a sort of interpreter, and Stewart 
had reciprocated by polishing away some of the 
roughnesses and Teutonic involutions of Bloem's 
formal English. 

When the congress ended, they had journeyed 
back together in leisurely fashion through Germany, 
spending a day in medieval Nuremberg, another in 
odorous Wiirzburg, and a third in mountain- 
shadowed Heidelberg, where Bloem had sought out 



2 LITTLE COMRADE 

some of his old comrades and initiated his American 
friend into the mysteries of an evening session in 
the Hirschgasse. Then they had turned northward 
to Mayence, and so down the terraced Rhine to 
Cologne. Here they were to part, Bloem to return to 
his work at Elberfeld, Stewart for a week or two in 
Brussels and Paris, and then home to America. 

Bloem's train was to leave in an hour, and it was 
the consciousness of this that kept them silent until 
their waiter came to tell them that their coffee was 
served. As they followed him through the hall, a 
tall man in the uniform of a captain of infantry 
entered from the street. His eyes brightened as he 
caught sight of Bloem. 

" Ach, Hermann! " he cried. 

Bloem, turning, stopped an instant for a burlesque 
salute, then threw himself into the other's arms. 
A moment later, he was dragging him forward to 
introduce him to Stewart. 

" My cousin," he cried, " Ritter Bloem, a soldier 
as you see — a great fire-eater! Cousin, this is my 
friend. Dr. Bradford Stewart, whom I had the good 
fortune to meet at Vienna." 

" I am pleased to know you, sir," said the cap- 
tain, shaking hands and speaking excellent Eng- 
lish. 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 3 

" You must join us," Bloem interposed. " We are 
just going to have coffee on the terrace. Come," and 
he caught the other by the arm. 

But the captain shook his head. 

" No, I cannot come," he said ; " really I can- 
not, much as I should like to do so. Dr. Stewart," he 
added, a little hesitatingly, " I trust you will not 
think me discourteous if I take my cousin aside for 
a moment." 

" Certainly not," Stewart assured him. 

" I will join you on the terrace," said Bloem, and 
Stewart, nodding good-by to the captain, followed 
the waiter, who had stood by during this exchange 
of greetings, and now led the way to a little table 
at one comer of the broad balcony looking out over 
the square. 

" Shall I pour the coffee, sir ? " he asked, as Stew- 
art sat down. 

" No ; I will wait for my companion," and, as 
the waiter bowed and stepped back, Stewart leaned 
forward with a deep breath of admiration. 

Below him lay the green level of the Domhof, its 
close-clipped trees outlined stifHy against the lights 
behind them. Beyond rose the choir of the great 
cathedral, with its fretted pinnacles, and flying but- 



4 LITTLE COMRADE 

tresses, and towering roof. By day, he had found 
its exterior somewhat cold and bare and formal, 
lacking somehow the subtle spirit of true Gothic; 
but nothing could be more beautiful than it was 
now, shimmering in the moonlight, bathed in lumi- 
nous shadow, lace-like and mysterious. 

He was still absorbed in this fairy vision when 
Bloem rejoined him. Even in the half-light of the 
terrace, Stewart could see that he was deeply moved. 
His face, usually glowing with healthy color, 
was almost haggard; his eyes seemed dull and 
sunken. 

"No bad news, I hope?" Stewart asked. 

Without answering him, Bloem signaled the 
waiter to pour the coffee, and sat watching him in 
silence. 

" That will do," he said in German ; " we will 
ring if we have need of you." Then, as the waiter 
withdrew, he glanced nervously about the terrace. 
It was deserted save for a noisy group around a 
table at the farther end. " There is very bad news, 
my friend," he added, almost in a whisper. " There 
is going to be — war ! " 

Stewart stared for an instant, astonished at the 
gravity of his tone. Then he nodded compre- 
hendingly. 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 5 

" Yes," he said; " I had not thought of it; but I 
suppose a war between Austria and Servia mil af- 
fect Germany more or less. Only I was hoping the 
Powers would interfere and stop it." 

" It seems it cannot be stopped/' said Bloem, 
gloomily. " Russia is mobilizing to assist Servia. 
Austria is Germany's ally, and so Germany must 
come to her aid. Unless Russia stops her mobiliza- 
tion, we shall declare war against her. Our army 
has already been called to the colors." 

Stewart breathed a little deeper. 

" But perhaps Russia will desist when she real- 
izes her danger," he suggested. " She must know 
she is no match for Germany." 

"She does know it," Bloem agreed; "but she 
also knows that she will not fight alone. It is not 
against Russia we are mobilizing — it is against 
France." 

"Against France?" echoed the other. "But 
surely " 

" Do not speak so loud, I beg of you," Bloem 
cautioned. " What I am telling you is not yet gen- 
erally known — perhaps the dreadful thing we fear 
will not happen, after all. But France is Russia's 
ally — she will be eager for war — for forty years she 
has been preparing for this moment." 



6 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Yes," agreed Stewart, smiling, " I have heard 
oi' la revanche' ; I have seen the mourning wreaths 
on the Strassburg monument. I confess," he added, 
" that I sympathize with France's dream of regain- 
ing her lost provinces. So do most Americans. We 
are a sentimental people." 

" I, too, sympathize with that dream," said Bloem, 
quickly, " or at least I understand it. So do many 
Germans. We have come to realize that the seizure 
of Alsace and Lorraine, however justified by history, 
was in effect a terrible mistake. We should have 
been generous in our hour of triumph — that way 
lay a chance of friendship with a people whose pride 
remained unbroken by disaster. Instead, we chose 
to heap insults upon a conquered foe, and we have 
reaped a merited reward of detestation. Ironically 
enough, those provinces which cost us so much have 
been to us a source of weakness, not of strength. 
We have had to fortify them, to police them, to 
hold them in stern repression. Even yet, they must 
be treated as conquered ground. You do not know 
— ^you cannot realize — what that means ! " He 
stared out gloomily into the night. " I have served 
there," he added, hoarsely. 

There was something in his tone which sent a 
shiver across Stewart's scalp, as though he had 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 7 

found himself suddenly at the brink of a horrible 
abyss into which he dared not turn his eyes. He 
fancied he could see in his companion's somber face 
the stirring of ghastly memories, of tragic experi- 
ence 

" But since France has not yet declared war," he 
said at last, " surely you will wait " 

" Ah, my friend," Bloem broke in, " we cannot 
afford to wait. We must strike quickly and with all 
our strength. There is no secret as to Germany's 
plan — France must be crushed under a mighty blow 
before she can defend herself; after that it will be 
Russia's turn." 

"And after that?" 

"After that? After that, we shall seize more 
provinces and exact more huge indemnities — and 
add just so much to our legacy of fear and hatred! 
We are bound to a wheel from which we cannot 
escape." 

Stewart looked dazedly out over the lighted 
square. 

" I can't understand it," he said, at last. " I don't 
understand how such things can be. They aren't 
possible. They're too terrible to be true. This is a 
civilized world — such things can never happen — 
humanity won't endure it ! " 



8 LITTLE COMRADE 

Bloem passed a trembling hand before his eyes, as 
a man awaking from a horrid dream. 

" Let us hope so, at least," he said. " But I am 
afraid; I shake with fear! Europe is topheavy 
under the burden of her awful armaments ; now, or 
at some future time, she must come tumbling down ; 
she must — she must — " he paused, searching for a 
word — " she must crumble. Perhaps that time has 
come." 

" I don't believe it," Stewart protested, stoutly. 
" Some day she will realize the insane folly of this 
armament, and it will cease." 

" I wish I could believe so," said Bloem, sadly ; 
" but you do not know, my friend, how we here in 
Germany, for example, are weighed down by mili- 
tarism. You do not know the arrogance, the igno- 
rance, the narrow-mindedness of the military caste. 
They do nothing for Germany — they add nothing to 
her art, her science, or her literature — ^they add noth- 
ing to her wealth — ^they destroy rather than build 
up — and yet it is they who rule Germany We are a 
pacific people, we love our homes and a quiet life; 
we are not a military people, and yet every man in 
Germany must march to war when the word is 
given. We ourselves have no voici' in the matter. 
We have only to obey." 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 9 

" Obey whom ? " asked Stewart. 

" The Emperor," answered Bloem, bitterly. 
" With all our progress, my friend, with all our 
development in science and industry, with all our 
literature and art, with all our philosophy, we still 
live in a medieval State, ruled by a king who believes 
himself divinely appointed, who can do no wrong, 
and who, in time of war at least, has absolute power 
over us. And the final decision as to war or peace 
is wholly in his hands. Understand I do not com- 
plain of the Emperor; he has done great things for 
Germany; he has often cast his influence for peace. 
But he is surrounded by aristocrats intent only on 
maintaining their privileges, who are terrified by 
the growth of democratic ideas; who believe that the 
only way to checkmate democracy is by a great war. 
It is they who preach the doctrine of blood and iron ; 
who hold that Csesar is sacrosanct. The Emperor 
struggles against them ; but some day they will prove 
too strong for him. Besides, he himself believes in 
blood and iron; he hates democracy as bitterly as 
anyone, for it denies the divine right of kings ! " 
He stopped suddenly, his finger to his ear. 
" Listen ! " he said. 

Down the street, from the direction of the river, 
came a low, continuous murmur, as of the wind 



lo LITTLE COMRADE 

among the leaves of a forest; then, as it grew 
clearer, it resolved itself into the tramp, tramp of 
iron-shod feet. Bloem leaned far forward staring 
into the darkness ; and suddenly, at the corner, three 
mounted officers appeared; then a line of soldiers 
wheeled into view; then another and another and 
another, moving as one man. The head of the 
column crossed the square, passed behind the church 
and disappeared, but still the tide poured on with 
slow and regular undulation, dim, mysterious, and 
threatening. At last the fear of the column came 
into view, passed, disappeared ; the clatter of iron on 
stone softened to a shuffle, to a murmur, died away. 

With a long breath, Bloem sat erect and passed his 
handkerchief across his shining forehead. 

" There is one battalion," he said ; " one unit 
composed of a thousand lesser units — each unit a 
man with a soul like yours and mine ; with hopes and 
ambitions; with women to love him; and now 
marching to death, perhaps, in the ranks yonder 
without in the least knowing why. There are four 
million such units in the army the Emperor can 
call into the field. I am one of them — I shall march 
like the rest ! " 

"You!" 

" Yes — ^I am a private in the Elberfeld battalion." 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY ii 

He spread out his delicate, sensitive, surgeon's hands 
and looked at them. " I was at one time a ser- 
geant," he added, " but my discipline did not satisfy 
my lieutenant and I was reduced to the ranks." 

Stewart also stared at those beautiful hands, so 
expressive, so expert. How vividly they typified 
the waste of war! 

" But it's absurd," he protested, " that a man like 
you — ^highly-trained, highly-educated, a specialist — 
should be made to shoulder a rifle. In the ranks, you 
are worth no more than the most ignorant peasant." 

" Not so much," corrected Bloem. " Our ideal 
soldier is one whose obedience is instant and unques- 
tioning." 

" But why are you not placed where you would be 
most efficient — in the hospital corps, perhaps?" 

" There are enough old and middle-aged surgeons 
for that duty. Young men must fight ! Besides, I 
am suspected of having too many ideas ! " 

He sat for a moment longer staring down at his 
hands — staring too, perhaps, at his career so ruth- 
lessly shattered — then he shook himself together and 
glanced across at his companion with a wry little 
smile. 

" You will think me a great croaker ! " he said. 
" It was the first shock — ^the thought of everything 



12 LITTLE COMRADE 

going to pieces. In a day or two, I shall be march- 
ing as light-heartedly as all the others — knowing 
only that I am fighting the enemies of my country — 
and wishing to know no more ! " 

But Stewart did not answer the smile. Confused 
thoughts were flying through his head — thoughts 
which he struggled to compose into some order or 
sequence. 

Bloem looked at him for a moment, and his smile 
grew more ironic. 

" I can guess what is in your mind," he said. 
" You are wondering why we march at all — why we 
offer ourselves as cannon-fodder, if we do not wish 
to do so. You are thinking of defiances, of revolu- 
tions. But there will never be a revolution in Ger- 
many — not in this generation." 

" Yes, I was thinking something like that," 
Stewart agreed. " Why will there be no revolu- 
tion?" 

" Because we are too thoroughly drilled in the 
habit of obedience. That habit is grooved deep into 
our brains. Were any of us so rash as to start a 
revolution, the government could stop it with a 
single word." 

"A single word?" 

" Yes — ' verboten '! " retorted Bloem, with a 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 13 

short laugh. Then he pushed back his chair and 
rose abruptly. " I must say good-by. My orders 
are awaiting me at Elberfeld." 

Stewart rose too, his face still mazed with in- 
credulity. 

" You really mean " 

" I mean," Bloem broke in, " that to-morrow I 
go to my depot, hang about my neck the metal tag 
stamped with my number, put on my uniform and 
shoulder my rifle. I cease to be an individual — I be- 
come a soldier. Good-by, my friend," he added, his 
voice softening. " Think of me sometimes, in that 
far-off, sublime America of yours. One thing more 
— do not linger in Germany — things will be very 
different here under martial law. Get home as 
quickly as you can ; and, in the midst of your peace 
and happiness, pity us poor blind worms who are 
forced to slay each other ! " 

" But I will go with you to the station," Stewart 
protested. 

" No, no," said Bloem ; " you must not do that. 
I am to meet my cousin. Good-by. Lebe wohl! " 

" Good-by — and good luck ! " and Stewart wrung 
the hand thrust into his. " You have been most 
kind to me." 

Bloem answered only with a little shake of the 



14 LITTLE COMRADE 

head; then turned resolutely and hastened from 
the terrace. 

Stewart sank back into his seat more moved than 
he would have believed possible by this parting from 
a man whom, a fortnight before, he had not known 
at all. Poor Bloem! To what fate was he being 
hurried ! A cultured man graded down to the level 
of the hind; a gentleman set to the task of slaughter ; 
a democrat driven to fight in defense of the divine 
right of kings! But could such a fight succeed? 
Was any power strong enough to drag back the 
hands of time — ' — 

And then Stewart started violently, for someone 
had touched him on the shoulder. He looked up to 
find standing over him a tall man in dark blue uni- 
form and wearing a spiked helmet. 

" Your pardon, sir," said the man in careful Eng- 
lish ; " I am an agent of the police. I must ask 
you certain questions." 

" Very well," agreed Stewart with a smile. " Go 
ahead — I have nothing to conceal. But won't you 
sit down?" 

" I thank you," and the policeman sat down heav- 
ily. " You are, I believe, an American." 

" Yes." 

" Have you a passport ? " 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 15 

" Yes — I was foolish enough to get one before I 
left home. All my friends laughed at me and told 
me I was wasting a dollar! " 

" I should like to see it." 

Stewart put his hand into an inner pocket, drew 
out the crackling parchment and passed it over. 
The other took it, unfolded it, glanced at the red 
seal and at the date, then read the very vague de- 
scription of its owner, and finally drew out a note- 
book. 

" Pease sign your name here," he said, and indi- 
cated a blank page. 

Stewart wrote his name, and the officer compared 
it with the signature at the bottom of the passport. 
Then he nodded, folded it up, and handed it back 
across the table. 

" It is quite regular," he said. " For what time 
have you been in Germany ? " 

" About two weeks. I attended the surgical con- 
gress at Vienna." 

" You are a surgeon by profession? " 

" Yes." 

" You are now on your way home ? " 

" Yes." 

" When will you leave Germany ? " 

" I am going from here to Aix-la-Chapelle in the 



1 6 LITTLE COMRADE 

morning, and expect to leave there for Brussels to- 
morrow afternoon or Sunday morning at the latest." 

The officer noted these details in his book. 

"At what hotel will you stay in Aachen?" he 
asked. 

" I don't know. Is there a good one near the 
station ? " 

" The Kolner Hof is near the station. It is not 
large, but it is very good. It is starred by 
Baedeker." 

" Then I will go there," said Stewart. 

" Very good," and the officer wrote, " Kolner 
Hof, Aachen," after Stewart's name, closed his note- 
book and slipped it into his pocket. " You under- 
stand, sir, that it is our duty to keep watch over all 
strangers, as much for their own protection as for 
any other reason." 

" Yes," assented Stewart, " I understand. I have 
heard that there is some danger of war." 

" Of that I know nothing," said the other coldly, 
and rose quickly to his feet. " I bid you good-night, 
sir." 

" Good-night," responded Stewart, and watched 
the upright figure until it disappeared. 

Then, lighting a fresh cigar, he gazed out at the 
great cathedral, nebulous and dream-like in the 



THE THIRTY-FIRST OF JULY 17 

darkness, and tried to picture to himself what such 
a war would mean as Bloem had spoken of. With 
men by the million dragged into the vast armies, 
who would harvest Europe's grain, who would work 
in her factories, who would conduct her business? 
Above all, who would feed the women and children ? 

And where would the money come from — ^the 
millions needed daily to keep such armies in the 
field? Where could it come from, save from the 
sweat of inoffensive people, who must be starved 
and robbed and ground into the earth until the last 
penny was wrung from them? Along the line of 
battle, thousands would meet swift death, and thou- 
sands more would struggle back to life through the 
torments of hell, to find themselves maimed and 
useless. But how trivial their sufferings beside 
the slow, hopeless, year-long martyrdom of the 
countless thousands who would never see a battle, 
who would know little of the war — who would 
know only that never thereafter was there food 
enough, warmth enough 

Stewart started from his reverie to find the waiter 
putting out the lights. Shivering as with a sudden 
chill, he hastily sought his room. 



CHAPTER II 
THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 

As Stewart ate his breakfast next morning, he 
smiled at his absurd fears of the night before. In 
the dear light of day, Bloem's talk of war seemed 
mere foolishness. War ! Nonsense ! Europe would 
never be guilty of such foUy-^a deliberate plunge 
to ruin. 

Besides, there were no evidences of war ; the life 
of the city was moving in its accustomed round, so 
far as Stewart could see; and there was vast reas- 
surance in the quiet and orderly service of the 
breakfast-room. No doubt the Powers had be- 
thought themselves, had interfered, had stopped the 
war between Austria and Servia, had ceased mo- 
bilization — in a word, had saved Europe from an 
explosion which would have shaken her from end 
to end. 

But when Stewart asked for his bill, the pro- 
prietor, instead of intrusting it as usual to the head- 
waiter, presented it in person. 

i8 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 19 

" If Herr Stewart would pay in gold, it would be 
a great favor," he said. 

Like all Americans, Stewart, unaccustomed to 
gold and finding its weight burdensome, carried 
banknotes whenever it was possible to do so. 
Emptying his pockets now, he found, besides a mis- 
cellaneous lot of silver and nickel and copper, a 
isingle small gold coin, value ten marks. 

" But I have plenty of paper," he said, and, pro- 
ducing his pocketbook, spread five notes for a hun- 
dred marks each before him on the table. " What's 
the matter with it?" 

" There is nothing at all the matter with it, sir," 
the little fat German hastened to assure him ; " only, 
just at present, there is a preference for gold. I 
would advise that you get gold for these notes, if 
possible." 

" I have a Cook's letter of credit," said Stewart. 
" They would give me gold. Where is Cook's office 
here?" 

" It is but a step up the street, sir," answered the 
other eagerly. " Come, I will show you," and, 
hastening to the door, he pointed out the office at 
the end of a row of buildings jutting out toward 
the cathedral. 

Stewart, the banknotes in his hand, hastened 



20 LITTLE COMRADE 

thither, and found quite a crowd of people draw- 
ing money on traveler's checks and letters of credit. 
He noticed that they were all being paid in gold. 
They, too, it seemed, had heard rumors of war, had 
been advised to get gold- but most of them treated 
the rumors as a joke and were heeding the 
advice only because they needed gold to pay their 
bills. 

Even if there was war, they told each other, it 
could not affect them. At most, it would only add 
a spice of excitement and adventure to the remainder 
of their European tour; what they most feared was 
that they would not be permitted to see any of the 
fighting! A few of the more timid shamefacedly 
confessed that they were getting ready to turn home- 
ward, but by far the greater number proclaimed the 
fact that they had made up their minds not to alter 
their plans in any detail. So much Stewart gath- 
ered as he stood in line waiting his turn; then he 
was in front of the cashier's window. 

The cashier looked rather dubious when Stewart 
laid the banknotes down and asked for gold. 

" I am carrying one of your letters of credit," 
Stewart explained, and produced it. " I got these 
notes on it at Heidelberg just the other day. Now 
it seems they're no good." 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 21 

" They are perfectly good," the cashier assured 
him; " but some of the tradespeople, who are al- 
ways suspicious and ready to take alarm, are de- 
manding gold. How long will you be in Ger- 
many ? " 

" I go to Belgium to-night or to-morrow." 

" Then you can use French gold," said the cashier, 
with visible relief. " Will one hundred marks in 
German gold carry you through? Yes? I think I 
can arrange it on that basis ;" and when Stewart as- 
sented, counted out five twenty-mark pieces and 
twenty-four twenty-franc pieces. " I think you are 
wise to leave Germany as soon as possible," he 
added, in a low tone, as Stewart gathered up this 
money and bestowed it about his person. " We do 
not wish to alarm anyone, and we are not offering 
advice, but if war comes, Germany will not be a 
pleasant place for strangers." 

" Is it really coming? " Stewart asked. " Is there 
any news?" 

" There is nothing definite — just a feeling in the 
air — ^but I believe that it is coming," and he turned 
to the next in line. 

Stewart hastened back to the hotel, where his land- 
lord received with reiterated thanks the thirty marks 
needed to settle the bill. When that transaction 



22 LITTLE COMRADE 

was ended, he glanced nervously about the empty 
office, and then leaned close. 

"You leave this morning, do you not, sir?" he 
asked, in a tone cautiously lowered. 

" Yes; I am going to Aix-la-Chapelle." 

" Take my advice, sir," said the landlord ear- 
nestly, " and do not stop there. Go straight on to 
Brussels." 

" But why ? " asked Stewart. " Everybody is ad- 
vising me to get out of Germany. What danger can 
there be?" 

" No danger, perhaps, but very great annoyance. 
It is rumored that the Emperor has already signed 
the proclamation declaring Germany in a state of 
war. It may be posted at any moment." 

" Suppose it is — what then ? What difference can 
that make to me — or to any American ? " 

" I see you do not know what those words mean," 
said the little landlord, leaning still closer and speak- 
ing with twitching lips. " When Germany is in a 
state of war, all civil authority ceases ; the military 
authority is everywhere supreme. The state takes 
charge of all railroads, and no private persons will 
be permitted on them until the troops have been 
mobilized, which will take at least a week; even 
after that, the trains will run only when the military 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 23 

authorities think proper, and never past the frontier. 
The telegraphs are taken and will send no private 
messages ; no person may enter or leave the country 
until his identity is clearly established; every stran- 
ger in the country will be placed under arrest, if 
there is any reason to suspect him. All motor 
vehicles are seized, all horses, all stores of food. 
Business stops, because almost all the men must go 
to the army. I must close my hotel because there 
will be no men left to work for me. Even if the men 
were left, there would be no custom when travel 
ceases. Every shop will be closed which cannot be 
managed by women ; every factory will shut, unless 
its product is needed by the army. Your letter of 
credit will be worthless, because there will be no 
way in which our bankers can get gold from Amer- 
ica. No — at that time, Germany will be no place for 
strangers." 

Stewart listened incredulously, for all this sounded 
like the wildest extravagance. He could not believe 
that business and industry would fall to pieces like 
that — it was too firmly founded, too strongly built. 

" What I have said is true, sir, believe me," said 
the little man, earnestly, seeing his skeptical counte- 
nance. " One thing more — ^have you a passport ? " 

" Yes," said Stewart, and tapped his pocket. 



24 LITTLE COMRADE 

" That is good. That will save you trouble at the 
frontier. Ah, here is your baggage. Good-by, sir, 
and a safe voyage to your most fortunate country." 

A brawny porter shouldered the two suit-cases 
which held Stewart's belongings, and the latter fol- 
lowed him along the hall to the door. As he stepped 
out upon the terrace, he saw drawn up there about 
twenty men — some with the black coats of waiters, 
some with the white caps of cooks, some with the 
green aprons of porters — while a bearded man in a 
spiked helmet was checking off their names in a 
little book. At the sound of Stewart's footsteps, he 
turned and cast upon him the cold, impersonal 
glance of German officialdom. Then he looked at 
the porter. 

" You will return as quickly as possible," he said 
gruffly in German to the latter, and returned to his 
checking. 

As they crossed the Domhof and skirted the rear 
of the cathedral, Stewart noticed that many of the 
shops were locked and shuttered, and that the street 
seemed strangely deserted. Only as they neared the 
station did the crowd increase. It was evident that 
many tourists, warned, perhaps, as Stewart had 
been, had made up their minds to get out of Ger- 
many; but the train drawn up beside the platform 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 25 

was a long one, and there was room for everybody. 
It was a good-humored crowd, rather inclined to 
laugh at its own fears and to protest that this jour- 
ney was entirely in accordance with a pre-arranged 
schedule ; but it grew quieter and quieter as moment 
after moment passed and the train did not start. 

That a German train should not start precisely 
on time was certainly unusual; that it should wait 
for twenty minutes beyond that time was stagger- 
ing. But the station-master, pacing solemnly up 
and down the platform, paid no heed to the inquiries 
addressed to him, and the guards answered only by 
a shake of the head which might mean anything. 
Then, quite suddenly, above the noises of the sta- 
tion, menacing and insistent came the low, ceaseless 
shuffle of approaching feet. 

A moment later the head of an infantry column 
appeared at the station entrance. It halted there, 
and an officer, in a long, gray cape that fell to his 
ankles, strode toward the station-master, who hast- 
ened to meet him. There was a moment's confer- 
ence, and then the station-master, saluting for the 
tenth time, turned to the expectant guards. 

" Clear the train ! " he shouted in stentorian Ger- 
man, and the guards sprang eagerly to obey. 

The scene which followed is quite indescribable. 



26 LITTLE COMRADE 

All the Germans in the train hastened to get off, as 
did everybody else who understood what was de- 
manded and knew anything of the methods of 
militarism. But many did not understand; a few 
who did made the mistake of standing upon what 
they conceived to be their rights and refusing to be 
separated from their luggage — and all alike, men, 
women, and children, were yanked from their seats 
and deposited upon the platform. Some were de- 
posited upon their feet — but not many. Women 
screamed as rough and seemingly hostile hands were 
laid upon them; men, red and inarticulate with 
anger, attempted ineffectually to resist. In a mo- 
ment one and all found themselves shut off by a 
line of police which had suddenly appeared from 
nowhere and drawn up before the train. 

Then a whistle sounded and the soldiers began 
to file into the carriages in the most systematic 
manner. Twenty-four men entered each compart- 
ment — ^ten sitting down and fourteen standing up or 
sitting upon the others' laps. Each coach, therefore, 
held one hundred and forty-four; and the battalion 
of seven hundred and twenty men exactly filled five 
coaches — just as the General Staff had long ago fig- 
ured that it should. 

Stewart, after watching this marvel of organ- 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 27 

ization for a moment, realized that, if any carriages 
were empty, it would be the ones at the end of the 
train, and quietly made his way thither. At last, in 
the rear coach, he came to a compartment in which 
sat one man, evidently a German, with a melancholy, 
bearded face. Before the door stood a guard watch- 
ing the battalion entrain. 

" May one get aboard ? " Stewart inquired, in his 
best German. 

The guard held up his hand for an instant; then 
the gold-braided station-master shouted a sentence 
which Stewart could not distinguish; but the guard 
dropped his hand and nodded. 

Looking back, the American saw a wild mob 
charging down the platform toward him, and hastily 
swung himself aboard. As he dropped into his seat, 
he could hear the shrieks and oaths of the melee out^ 
side, and the next moment, a party of breathless and 
disheveled women were storming the door. They 
were panting, exhausted, inarticulate with rage and 
chagrin ; they fell in, rolled in, stumbled in, until the 
compartment was jammed. 

Stewart, swept from his seat at the first impact, 
but rallying and doing what he could to bring order 
out of chaos, could not but admire the manner in 
which his bearded fellow-passenger clung immov- 



28 LITTLE COMRADE 

ably to his seat until the last woman was aboard, 
and then reached quickly out, slammed shut the 
door, and held it shut, despite the entreaties of the 
lost souls who drifted despairingly past along the 
platform, seemingly blind, deaf, and totally unin- 
terested in what was passing around him. 

Then Stewart looked at the women. Nine were 
crowded into the seats ; eight were standing ; all were 
red and perspiring; and most of them had plainly 
lost their tempers. Stewart was perspiring himself, 
and he got out his handkerchief and mopped his 
forehead ; then he ventured to speak. 

" Well," he said ; " so this is war ! I have always 
heard it was warm work ! " 

Most of the women merely glared at him and 
went on adjusting their clothing, and fastening up 
their hair, and straightening their hats; but one, a 
buxom woman of forty-eight or fifty, who was 
crowded next to him, and who had evidently suffered 
more than her share of the general misfortune, 
turned sharply. 

" Are you an American? " she demanded. 

" I am, madam." 

" And you stand by and see your countrywomen 
treated in this perfectly outrageous fashion ? " 

" My dear madam," protested Stewart, " what 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 29 

could one man — even an American — do against a 
thousand ? " 

" You could at least " 



" Nonsense, mother," broke in another voice, and 
Stewart turned to see that it was a slim, pale girl 
of perhaps twenty-two who spoke. " The gentle- 
man is quite right. Besides, I thought it rather good 
fun." 

" Good fun ! " snapped her mother. " Good fun 
to be jerked about and trampled on and insulted! 
And where is our baggage? Will we ever see it 
again ? " 

" Oh, the baggage is safe enough," Stewart as- 
sured her. " The troops will detrain somewhere 
this side the frontier, and we can all take our old 
seats." 

" But why should they travel by this train ? Why 
should they not take another train? Why should 
they " 

" Are we all here ? " broke in an anxious voice. 
" Is anyone missing ? " 

There was a moment's counting, then a gen- 
eral sigh of relief. The number was found cor- 
rect. 

From somewhere up the line a whistle sounded, 
and the state of the engine-driver's nerves could be 



30 LITTLE COMRADE 

inferred from the jerk with which he started — quite 
an American jerk. All the women who were stand- 
ing, screamed and clutched at each other and swayed 
back and forth as if wrestling. Stewart found him- 
self wrestling with the buxom woman. 

" I cannot stand ! " she declared. " It is out- 
rageous that I should have to stand ! " and she fixed 
glittering eyes upon the bearded stranger. " No 
American would remain seated while a woman of 
my age was standing ! " 

But the bearded stranger gazed blandly out of the 
window at the passing landscape. 

There Was a moment's silence, during which 
everyone looked at the heartless culprit. Stewart 
had an uneasy feeling that, if he were to do his duty 
as an American, he would grab the offender by the 
collar and hurl him through the window. Then 
the woman next to the stranger bumped resolutely 
into him, pressed him into the corner, and disclosed 
a few inches of the seat. 

" Sit here, Mrs. Field," she said. " We can all 
squeeze up a little." 

The pressure was tremendous when Mrs. Field 
sat down; but the carriage was strongly built and 
the sides held. The slender girl came and stood by 
Stewart. 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 31 

" What's it all about?" she asked. " Has there 
been a riot or something ? " 

" There is going to be a most awful riot," an- 
swered Stewart, " unless all signs fail. Germany is 
mobilizing her troops to attack France." 

" To attack France ! How outrageous ! It's that 
Kaiser Wilhelm, I suppose! Well, I hope France 
will simply clean him up! " 

" So do I ! " cried her mother. " The Germans 
are not gentlemen. They do not know how to treat 
women ! " 

" ' Kochen, Kirche und Kinder! ' " quoted some- 
body, in a high voice. 

" But see here," protested Stewart, with a glance 
at the bearded stranger, who was still staring steadily 
out of the window, " if I were you, I'd wait till I 
was out of Germany before saying so. It would be 
safer!" 

" Safer ! " echoed an elderly woman with a high 
nose. " I should like to see them harm an Ameri- 
can!" 

Stewart turned away to the window with a ges- 
ture of despair, and caught the laughing eyes of the 
girl who stood beside him. 

" Don't blame them too much," she said. 
" They're not themselves. Usually they are all quite 



32 LITTLE COMRADE 

polite and well-behaved; but now they are perfectly 
savage. And I don't blame them. I didn't mind so 
much, because I'm slim and long-legged and not 
very dignified; but if I were a stout, elderly woman, 
rather proud of my appearance, I would bitterly 
resent being yanked out of a seat and violently pro- 
pelled across a platform by a bearded ruffian with 
dirty hands. Wouldn't you ? " 

" Yes," agreed Stewart, laughing ; " I should 
probably kick and bite and behave in a most un- 
dignified manner." 

The girl leaned closer. 

" Some of them did ! " she murmured. 

Stewart laughed again and looked at her with 
fresh interest. It was something to find a woman 
who could preserve her sense of humor under such 
circumstances. 

" You have been doing the continent? " he asked. 

" Yes, seventeen of us ; all from Philadelphia." 

"And you've had a good time, of course? " 

" We'd have had a better if we had brought a man 
along. I never realized before how valuable men 
are. Women aren't fitted by nature to wrestle with 
time-tables and cabbies and hotel-bills and head- 
waiters. This trip has taught me to respect men 
more than I have ever done." 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 33 

" Then it hasn't been wasted. But you SE^y you're 
from Philadelphia. I know some people in Phila- 
delphia — ^the Courtlandt Bryces are soct of cousins 
of mine." 

But the girl shook her head. 

" That sort of thing happens only in novels," she 
said. " But there is no reason I shouldn't tell you 
my name, if you want to know it. It is Millicent 
Field, and its possessor is very undistinguished — 
just a school-teacher — not at all in the same social 
circle as the Courtlandt Bryces." 

Stewart colored a little. 

" My name is Bradford Stewart," he said, " and 
I also am very undistinguished — just a surgeon on 
the staff at Johns Hopkins. Did you get to 
Vienna?" 

" No ; that was too far for us." 

" There was a clinic there ; I saw some wonder- 
ful things. These German surgeons certainly know 
their business." 

Miss Field made a little grimace. 

" Perhaps," she admitted. " But do you know the 
impression of Germany that I am taking home with 
me? It is that Germany is a country run solely in 
the interests of the male half of creation. Women 



34 LITTLE COMRADE 

are tolerated only because they are necessary in the 
scheme of things." 

Stewart laughed. 

" There was a book published a year or two ago," 
he said, " called ' Germany and the Germans.' Per- 
haps you read it ? " 

" No." 

" I remember it for one remark. Its author says 
that Germany is the only country on earth where the 
men's hands are better kept than the women's." 

Miss Field clapped her hands in delight. 

" Delicious ! " she cried. " Splendid ! And it is 
true," she added, more seriously. " Did you see 
the women cleaning the streets in Munich ? " 

" Yes." 

" And harvesting the grain, and spreading ma- 
nure, and carrying great burdens — doing all the 
dirty work and the heavy work. What are the men 
doing, I should like to know ? " 

" Madam," spoke up the bearded stranger by 
the window, in a deep voice which made everybody 
jump, " I will tell you what the men are doing — 
they are in the army, preparing themselves for the 
defense of their fatherland. Do you think it is of 
choice they leave the harvesting and street-cleaning 
and carrying of burdens to their mothers and wives 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 35 

and sisters ? No ; it is because for them is reserved 
a greater task — the task of confronting the revenge- 
ful hate of France, the envious hate of England, the 
cruel hate of Russia. That is their task to-day, 
madam, and they accept it with light hearts, con- 
fident of victory ! " 

There was a moment's silence. Mrs. Field was 
the first to find her voice. 

" All the same," she said, " that does not justify 
the use of cows as draft animals ! " 

The German stared at her an instant in astonish- 
ment, then turned away to the window with a ges- 
ture of contempt, as of one who refuses to argue 
with lunatics, and paid no further heed to the 
Americans. 

With them, the conversation turned from war, 
which none of them really believed would come, to 
home, for which they were all longing. Home, 
Stewart told himself, means everything to middle- 
aged women of fixed habits. It was astonishing 
that they should tear themselves away from it, even 
for a tour of Europe, for to them travel meant 
martyrdom. Home! How their eyes brightened 
as they spoke the word ! They were going through 
to Brussels, then to Ostend, after a look at Ghent 
and Bruges, 'and so to England and their boat. 



36 LITTLE COMRADE 

" I intend to spend the afternoon at Aix-la- 
Chapelle," said Stewart, " and go on to Brussels 
to-night or in the morning. Perhaps I shall see 
you there." 

Miss Field mentioned the hotel at which the 
party would stop. 

" What is there at Aix-la-Chapelle ? " she asked. 
" I suppose I ought to know, but I don't." 

" There's a cathedral, with the tomb of Charle- 
magne, and his throne, and a lot of other relics." I 
was always impressed by Charlemagne. He was the 
real thing in the way of emperors." 

" I should like to see his tomb," said Miss Field. 
" Why can't we stop at Aix-la-Chapelle, mother? " 

But Mrs. Field shook her head. 

" We will gef out of Germany as quickly as we 
can," she said, and the other members of the party 
nodded their hearty agreement. 

Meanwhile the train rolled steadily on through a 
beautiful and peaceful country, where war seemed 
incredible and undreamed of. White villas dotted 
the thickly-wooded hillsides; quaint villages hud- 
dled in the valleys. And finally the train crossed a 
long viaduct and rumbled into the station at Aix-la- 
Chapelle. 

The platform was deserted, save for a few guards 



THE FIRST RUMBLINGS 37 

and porters. Stewart opened the door and was 
about to step out, when a guard waved him vio- 
lently back. Looking forward, he saw that the 
soldiers were detraining. 

" Good ! " he said. " You can get your old seats 
again!" and, catching the eye of the guard, gave 
him a nod which promised a liberal tip. 

That worthy understood it perfectly, and the 
moment the last soldier was on the platform, he 
beckoned to Stewart and his party, assisted them to 
find their old compartments, ejected a peasant who 
had taken refuge in one of them, assured the ladies 
that they would have no further inconvenience, and 
summoned a porter to take charge of Stewart's suit- 
cases. In short, he did everything Jie could to earn 
the shining three-mark piece which Stewart slipped 
into his hand. 

And then, after receiving the thanks of the ladies 
and promising to look them up in Brussels, Stewart 
followed his porter across the platform to the en- 
trance. 

Millicent Field looked after him a little wistfully. 

" How easy it is for a man to do things ! " she 
remarked to nobody in particular. " Never speak to 
me again of woman suffrage ! " 



CHAPTER III 
" STATE OF WAR " 

Stewart, following his porter, was engulfed in the 
human tide which had been beating clamorously 
against the gates, and which surged forward across 
the platform as soon as they were opened. There 
were tourists of all nations, alarmed by the threat 
of war, and there were also many people who, to 
Stewart at least, appeared to be Germans ; and all of 
them were running toward the train, looking neither 
to the right nor left, dragging along as much lug- 
gage as they could carry. 

As he stepped aside for a moment out of the way 
of this torrent, Stewart found himself beside the 
bearded stranger who had waxed eloquent in defense 
of Germany. He was watching the crowd with a 
look at once mocking and sardonic, as a spider might 
watch a fly struggling vainly to escape from the 
web. He glanced at Stewart, then turned away 
without any sign of recognition. 

" Where do you go, sir ? " the porter asked, when 
they were safely through the gates. 

38 



" STATE OF WAR " 39 

" To the Kolner Hof." 

" It is but a step," said the porter, and he un- 
hooked his belt, passed it through the handles of the 
suit-cases, hooked it together again and lifted it to 
his shoulder. " This way, sir, if you please." 

The Kolner Hof proved to be a modest inn just 
around the corner, where Stewart was received most 
cordially by the plump, high-colored landlady. 
Lunch would be ready in a few minutes; mean- 
while, if the gentleman would follow the waiter, 
he would be shown to a room where he could remove 
the traces of his journey. But first would the gen- 
tleman fill in the blank required by the police ? 

So Stewart filled in the blank, which demanded his 
name, his nationality, his age, his business, his home 
address, the place from which he had come to Aix- 
la-Chapelle and the place to which he would go on 
leaving it, handed it back to the smiling landlady, 
and followed an ugly, hang-dog waiter up the stair. 

The room into which he was shown was a very 
pleasant one, scrupulously clean, and as he made his 
toilet, Stewart reflected how much more of comfort 
and how much warmer welcome was often to be had 
at the small inns than at the big ones, and mentally 
thanked the officer of police who had recommended 
this one. He found he had further reason for grati- 



40 LITTLE COMRADE 

tude when he sat down to lunch, served on a little 
table set in one corner of a shady court — the best 
lunch he had eaten for a long time, as he told the 
landlady when she came out presently, knitting in 
hand, and sat down near him. She could speak a 
little English, it appeared, and a little French, and 
these, with Stewart's little German, afiforded a me- 
dium of communication limping, it is true, but suffi- 
cient. 

She received the compliments of her guest with 
the dignity of one who knew them to be deserved. 

" I do what I can to please my patrons," she said; 
" and indeed I have had no cause to complain, for 
the season has been very good. But this war — it 
will ruin us innkeepers — there will be no more 
travelers. Already, I hear. Spa, Ostend, Carlsbad, 
Baden — such places as those — are deserted just 
when the season should be at its best. What do you 
think of it — this war ? " 

" Most probably it is just another scare," said 
Stewart. " War seems scarcely possible in these 
days — it is too cruel, too absurd. An agreement 
will be reached." 

" I am sure I hope so, sir; but it looks very bad. 
For three days now our troops have been pass- 
ing through Aachen toward the frontier." 



" STATE OF WAR " 41 

" How far away is the frontier ? " 

" About ten miles. The customhouse is at Her- 
besthal." 

" Ten miles ! " echoed Stewart in surprise. " The 
frontier of France ? " 

" Oh, no — .the frontier of Belgium." 

" But why should they concentrate along the Bel- 
gian frontier?" Stewart demanded. 

" Perhaps they fear an attack from that direction. 
Or perhaps," she added, calmly, " they are prepar- 
ing to seize Belgium. I have often heard it said 
that Belgium should belong to Germany." 

" But look here," protested Stewart, hotly, " Ger- 
many can't seize a country just because it happens 
to be smaller and weaker than she is ! " 

" Can't she ? " inquired the landlady, seemingly 
astonished at his indignation. " Why is that? " 

Her eyes were shining strangely as she lowered 
them to her knitting; and there was a moment's 
silence, broken only by the rapid clicking of her 
needles. For Stewart found himself unable to an- 
swer her question. Ever since history began, big 
countries had been seizing smaller ones, and great 
powers crushing weaker ones. If Austria might 
seize Bosnia and Italy Tripoli, why might not Ger- 
many seize Belgium? And he suddenly realized 



42 LITTLE COMRADE 

that, in spite of protests and denials and hypocrisies, 
between nation and nation the law of the jungle was, 
even yet, often the only law ! 

" At any rate," pursued the landlady, at last, " I 
have heard that great intrenchments are being built 
all along there, and that supplies for a million men 
have been assembled. There has been talk of war 
many times before, and nothing has come of it; 
but there have never been such preparations as 
these." 

" Let us hope it is only the Kaiser rattling his 
sword again — a little louder than usual. I confess," 
he added more soberly, " that as an American I 
haven't much sympathy with Prussian militarism. 
I have sometimes thought that a war which would 
put an end to it once for all would be a good thing." 

The woman shot him a glance surprisingly quick 
and piercing. 

" That is also the opinion of many here in Ger- 
many," she said in a low voice ; " but it is an opinion 
which cannot be uttered." She checked herself 
quickly as the ugly waiter approached. " How long 
will the gentleman remain in Aachen ? " she asked, 
in another tone. 

" I am going on to Brussels this evening. There 
is a train at six o'clock, is there not? " 



" STATE OF WAR " 43 

" At six o'clock, yes, sir. It will be well for the 
gentleman to have a light dinner before his de- 
parture. The train may be delayed — and the jour- 
ney to Brussels is of seven hours." 

" Very well," agreed Stewart, rising. " I will be 
back about five. How does one get to the cathe- 
dral?" 

" Turn to your right, sir, as you leave the hotel. 
The first street is the Franzstrasse. It will lead you 
straight to the church." 

Stewart thanked her and set ofif. The Franz- 
strasse proved to be a wide thoroughfare, bordered 
by handsome shops, but many of them were closed 
and the street itself was almost deserted. It opened 
upon a narrower street, at the end of which Stewart 
could see the lofty choir of the minster. 

Presently he became aware of a chorus of high- 
pitched voices, which grew more and more distinct 
as he advanced. It sounded like a lot of women in 
violent altercation, and then in a moment he saw 
what it was, for he came out upon an open square 
covered with market-stalls, and so crowded that one 
could scarcely get across it. Plainly the frugal 
wives of Aachen were laying in supplies against the 
time when all food would grow scarce and dear, and 
from the din of high-pitched bargaining it was 



44 LITTLE COMRADE 

evident that the crafty market-people had already- 
begun to advance their prices. 

Stewart paused for a while to contemplate this 
scene, far more violent and war-like than any he 
had yet witnessed; then, edging around the crowd, 
he arrived at the cathedral, the most irregular and 
eccentric that he had ever seen — a towering Gothic 
choir attached to an octagonal Byzantine nave. But 
that nave is very impressive, as Stewart found when 
he stepped inside it; and then, on a block of stone 
in its pavement, he saw the words, " Carlo Magno," 
and knew that he was at the tomb of the great Em- 
peror. 

It is perhaps not really the tomb, but for emo- 
tional purposes it answers very well, and there can 
be no question about the marble throne and other 
relics which Stewart presently inspected, under the 
guidance of a black-clad verger. Then, as there 
was a service in progress in the choir, he sat down, 
at the verger's suggestion, to wait till it was 
over. 

In a small chapel at his right, a group of candles 
glowed before an altar dedicated to the Virgin, and 
here, on the low benches, many women knelt in 
prayer. More and more slipped in quietly — young 
women, old women, some shabby, some well-clad — 



" STATE OF WAR " 45 

until the benches were full ; and after that the new- 
comers knelt on the stone pavement and besought the 
Mother of Christ to guard their sons and husbands 
and sweethearts, summoned to fight the battles of 
the Emperor. Looking at them — at their bowed 
heads, their drawn faces, their shrinking figures — 
Stewart realized for the first time how terrible is 
the burden which war lays on women. To bear 
sons, to rear them — only to see them march away 
when the dreadful summons came; to bid good-by 
to husband or to lover, crushing back the tears, 
masking the stricken heart; and then to wait, day 
after dreary day, in agony at every rumor, at every 
knock, at every passing footstep, with no refuge 

save in prayer 

But such thoughts were too painful. To distract 
them, he got out his Baedeker and turned its pages 
absently until he came to Aachen. First the railway 
stations — ^there were four, it seemed ; then the hotels 
— the Grand Monarque, the Nuellens, the Hotel de 
I'Empereur, the du Nord — strange that so many of 
them should be French, in name at least! — the 
Monopol, the Imperial Crown — but where was the 
Kolner Hof ? He ran through the list again more 
carefully — no, it was not there. And yet that police- 
officer at Cologne had asserted not only that it was 



46 LITTLE COMRADE 

in Baedeker, but that it was honored with a star! 
Perhaps in the German edition 

A touch on the arm apprised him that the verger 
was ready to take him through the choir, where the 
service was ended, and Stewart slipped his book back 
into his pocket and followed him. It is a lovely 
choir, soaring toward the heavens in airy beauty, but 
Stewart had no eyes for it. He found suddenly that 
he wanted to get away. He was vaguely uneasy. 
The memory of those kneeling women weighed him 
down. For the first time he really believed that war 
might come. 

So he tipped the verger and left the church and 
came out into the streets again, to find them emp- 
tier than ever. Nearly all the shops were closed; 
there was no vehicle of any kind ; there were scarcely 
any people. And then, as he turned the corner into 
the wide square in front of the town-hall, he saw 
where at least some of the people were, for a great 
crowd had gathered there — a crowd of women and 
children and old men — while from the steps before 
the entrance an official in gold-laced uniform and 
cocked hat was delivering a harangue. 

At first, Stewart could catch only a word here and 
there, but as he edged closer, he found that the 
speech was a eulogy of the Kaiser — of his high wis- 



" SXATE OF WAR " 47 

dom, his supreme greatness, his passionate love for 
his people. The Kaiser had not sought war, he had 
strained every nerve for peace; but the jealous ene- 
mies who ringed Germany round, who looked with 
envy upon her greatness and dreamed only of de- 
stroying her, would not give her peace. So, with 
firm heart and abiding trust in God, the Emperor 
had donned his shining armor and unsheathed his 
sword, confident that Germany would emerge from 
the struggle greater and stronger than ever. 

Then the speaker read the Emperor's address, and 
reminded his hearers that all they possessed, even 
to their lives and the lives of their loved ones, be- 
longed to their Fatherland, to be yielded ungrudg- 
ingly when need arose. He cautioned them that the 
military power was now supreme, not to be ques- 
tioned. It would brook no resistance nor interfer- 
ence. Disobedience would be severely dealt with. 
It was for each of them to go quietly about his 
affairs, trusting in the Emperor's wisdom, and to 
pray for victory. 

There were some scattered cheers, but the crowd 
for the most part stood in dazed silence and watched 
two men put up beside the entrance to the rathhaus 
the proclamation which declared Germany in a state 
of war. Down the furrowed cheeks of many of the 



48 LITTLE COMRADE 

older people the hot tears poured in streams, perhaps 
at remembrance of the horrors and suffering of Ger- 
many's last war with France, and some partial real- 
ization that far greater horrors and suffering were 
to come. Then by twos and threes they drifted 
away to their homes, talking in bated undertone, or 
shuffling silently along, staring straight before them. 
In every face were fear and grief and a sullen ques- 
tioning of fate. 

Why had this horror been decreed for them? 
What had they done that this terrible burden should 
be laid upon them ? What could war bring any one 
of them but sorrow and privation? Was there no 
way of escape? Had they no voice in their own 
destiny? These were the questions which surged 
through Stewart's mind as he slowly crossed the 
square and made his way along the silent streets 
back toward his hotel. At almost every corner a 
red poster stared at him — a poster bearing the Prus- 
sian eagle and the Kaiser's name. " The sword has 
been thrust into our hands," the Kaiser wrote. " We 
must defend our Fatherland and our homes against 
the assaults of our enemies. Forward with God, 
who will be with us, as He was with our fathers ! " 

Sad as he had never been before, Stewart walked 
on. Something was desperately wrong somewhere; 



" STATE OF WAR " 49 

this people did not want war — most probably even 
the Kaiser did not want war. Yet war had come; 
the fate of Europe was trembling in the balance; 
millions of men were being driven to a detested 
task. Caught up in mighty armies by a force there 
was no resisting, they were marching blindly to 
kill and be killed 

A sudden outbreak of angry voices in the street 
ahead startled Stewart from his thoughts. A section 
of soldiers was halted before a house at whose door 
a violent controversy was in progress between their 
sergeant and a wrinkled old woman. 

" I tell you we must have him," the sergeant 
shouted, as though for the twentieth time. 

" And I tell you his wife is dying," shrieked the 
woman. " He has permission from his captain." 

" I know nothing about that. My orders are to 
gather in all stragglers." 

" It is only a question of a few hours." 

" He must come now," repeated the sergeant, 
doggedly. " Those are the orders. If he disobeys 
them — ^if I am compelled to use force — he will be 
treated as a deserter. Will you tell him, or must I 
send my men in to get him ? " 

The sunken eyes flamed with rage, the wrinkled 
face was contorted with hate — ^but only for an in- 



50 LITTLE COMRADE 

stant. The flame died; old age, despair, the habit 
of obedience, reasserted themselves. A tear trickled 
down the cheek — a tear of helplessness and resigna- 
tion. 

" I will tell him, sir," she said, and disappeared 
indoors. 

The sergeant turned back to his men, cursing hor- 
ribly to himself. Suddenly he spat upon the pave- 
ment in disgust. 

" A devil's job ! " he muttered, and took a short 
turn up and down, without looking at his men. In 
a moment the old woman reappeared in the door. 
"Well, mother?" he demanded, gruffly. 

" I have told him. He will be here at once." 

As she spoke, a fair-haired youth of perhaps 
twenty appeared on the threshold and saluted. His 
eyes were red with weeping, but he held himself 
proudly erect. 

" Hermann Gronau ? " asked the sergeant. 

" Yes." 

"Fall in!" 

With a shriek of anguish, the woman threw her 
arms about him and strained him close. 

" My boy ! " she moaned. " My youngest one — 
my baby — they are taking you also ! " 

" I shall be back, mother, never fear," he said, and 



"STATE OF WAR" 51 

loosened her arms gently. " You will write me 
when — when it is over." 

" Yes," she promised, and he took his place in the 
ranks. 

" March ! " cried the sergeant, and the section 
tramped away with Gronau in its midst. At the 
corner, he turned and waved his hand in farewell to 
the old woman. For a moment longer she stood 
clutching at the door and staring at the place where 
he had vanished, then turned slowly back into the 
house. 



CHAPTER IV 

THE MYSTERY OF THE SATIN SLIPPERS 

Stewart, awakening from the contemplation of this 
poignant drama — one of thousands such enacting 
at that moment all over Europe — realized that he 
was lingering unduly and hastened his steps. At the 
end of five minutes, he was again in the wide Franz- 
strasse, and, turning the last corner, saw his land- 
lady standing at her door, looking anxiously up and 
down the street. 

Her face brightened with relief when she saw him 
— a relief so evidently deep and genuine that Stewart 
was a little puzzled by it. 

" But I am glad to see you ! " she cried as he 
came up; her face wreathed in smiles. " I was 
imagining the most horrible things. I feared I 
know not what! But you are safe, it seems." 

" Quite safe. In fact, I was never in any dan- 
ger. 

" I was foolish, no doubt, to have fear. But in 
times like these, one never knows what may happen." 

58 



THE SATIN SLIPPERS 53 

" True enough," Stewart agreed. " Still, an 
American with a passport in his pocket ought to be 
safe anywhere." 

" Ah ; you have a passport — that is good. That 
will simplify matters. The police have been here 
to question you. They will return presently." 

"The police?" 

" There have been some spies captured, it seems. 
And there are many who are trying to leave the 
country. So everyone is suspected. You are not 
German-born, I hope? If you were, I fear not even 
your passport would be of use." 

They had walked back together along the hall as 
they talked, and now stopped at the foot of the 
stair. The landlady seemed very nervous — ^as was 
perhaps natural amid the alarms of war. She 
scarcely listened to his assurance that he was Ameri- 
can by birth. Little beads of perspiration stood out 
across her forehead 

" The police visited your room," she rattled 
on. " You will perhaps find your baggage disar- 
ranged." 

Stewart smiled wryly. 

" So it seems they really suspect me?" 

" They suspect everyone," the landlady re- 
peated. 



54 LITTLE COMRADE 

She was standing with her back toward the door, 
and Stewart wondered why she should watch his 
face so closely. 

Suddenly, over her shoulder, he saw the ugly 
waiter with the hang-dog air approaching along 
the hall. 

" Such anxiety is quite natural," said the land- 
lady rapidly in German, raising her voice a little. 
" I can understand it. But it is not remarkable that 
you should have missed her — ^the trains are so ir- 
regular. I will send her to you the moment she 
arrives. Ah, Hans," she added, turning at the sound 
of the waiter's footsteps, " so you are back at last ! 
You will take up some hot water to the gentleman 
at once. And now you will excuse me, sir; I have 
the dinner to attend to," and she hurried away, 
carrying the waiter with her. 

Stewart stood for an instant staring after her; 
then he turned and mounted slowly to his room. 
But what had the woman meant? Why should he 
be anxious ? Who was it he had missed ? "I will 
send her to you the moment she arrives." No — she 
could not have said that — it was impossible that she 
should have said that. He must have misunderstood ; 
his German was very second-rate, and she had 
spoken rapidly. But what had she said? 



THE SATIN SLIPPERS 55 

He was still pondering this problem, when a 
knock at the door told him that the hot water had 
arrived. As he opened the door, the landlady's voice 
came shrilly up the stair. 

" Hans ! " she called. " There is something wrong 
with the stove. Hasten ! Hasten ! " 

Stewart took the can which was thrust hastily 
into his hand, turned back into the room, and pro- 
ceeded to make a leisurely toilet. If the landlady 
had not told him, he would never have suspected 
that his baggage had been searched by the police, 
for everything seemed to be where he had left it. 
But then he was a hasty and careless packer, by no 
means precise 

That vague feeling of uneasiness which had 
shaken him in the church swept over him again, 
stronger than before; there was something wrong 
somewhere; the meshes of an invisible net seemed 
closing about him. More than once he caught him- 
self standing quite still, in an attitude of profound 
meditation, though he was not conscious that he had 
really been thinking of anything. Evidently the 
events of the day had shaken him more deeply 
than he had realized. 

" Come, old man," he said at last, " this won't 
do. Pull yourself together." 



56 LITTLE COMRADE 

And then a sudden vivid memory rose before him 
of those praying women, of that wrinkled mother 
gazing despairingly after her youngest born as he 
was marched away perhaps forever, of the set faces 
of the crowd shuffling silently homeward 

He had been absently turning over the contents 
of one of his bags, searching for a necktie, when 
he found himself staring at a pair of satin ball- 
slippers, into each of which was stuffed a blue silk 
stocking. For quite a minute he stared, doubting 
his own senses; then he picked up one of the slip- 
pers and looked at it. 

It was a tiny affair, very delicate and beautiful — 
a real jewel in footwear, such as Stewart, with 
his limited feminine experience, had never seen be- 
fore. Indeed, he might have doubted that they were 
intended for actual service, but for the slight dis- 
coloration inside the heel, which proved that these 
had been worn more than once. Very deliberately 
he drew out the stocking, also a jewel in its way, of a 
texture so diaphanous as to be almost cobweblike. 
Then he picked up the other slipper and held them 
side by side. Yes, they were mates 

" But where on earth could I have picked them 
up?" he asked himself. "In what strange fit of 
absent-mindedness could I have packed them with 



THE SATIN SLIPPERS 57 

my things ? But I couldn't have picked them up — 
I never saw them before " 



He sat down suddenly, a slipper in either hand. 
They must have come from somewhere — they could 
not have concealed themselves among his things. 
If he had not placed them there, then someone else 
had. But who? And for what purpose? The 
police? His landlady had said that they had 
searched his luggage; but what possible object could 
they have had for increasing it by two satin slip- 
pers and a pair of stockings? Such an action was 
farcical — French-farcical! — but he could not be in- 
criminated in such a way. He had no wife to be 
made jealous ! And even if he had 

" This is the last straw ! " he muttered to him- 
self. "Either the world has gone mad, or I 
have." 

Moving as in a dream, he placed the slippers side 
by side upon the floor, contemplated them for a mo- 
ment longer, and then proceeded slowly with his 
dressing. He found an unaccustomed difficulty in 
putting his buttons in his cuffs, and then he remem- 
bered that it was a tie he had been looking for when 
he found the slippers. The slippers! He turned 
and glanced at them. Yes — they were still there — 
they had not vanished. Very coquettish they 



5& LITTLE COMRADE 

appeared, standing there side by side, as though 
waiting for their owner. 

And suddenly Stewart smiled a crooked smile. 

" Only one thing is necessary to complete this 
pantomime," he told himself, " and that is that the 
Princess should suddenly appear and claim them. 
Well, I'm willing! A woman with a foot like 
that " 

There was a knock at the door. 

" In a moment ! " he called. 

" But it is I ! " cried a woman's voice in English — 
a sweet, high-pitched voice, quivering with excite- 
ment. " It is I ! " and the door was flung open 
with a crash. 

A woman rushed toward him — he saw vaguely her 
vivid face, her shining eyes; behind her, more 
vaguely still, he saw the staring eyes of the hang- 
dog waiter. Then she was upon him. 

" At last ! " she cried, and flung her arms about 
him and kissed him on the lips — ^kissed him closely, 
passionately, as he had never been kissed before. 



CHAPTER V 
ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 

Stewart, standing petrified, collar in hand, thrill- 
ing with the warmth of that caress, was conscious 
that his free arm had dropped about the woman's 
waist, and that she was cuddling to him, patting 
him excitedly on the cheek and smiling up into his 
eyes. Then, over her shoulder, he caught a glimpse 
of the sardonic smile on the ugly face of the waiter 
as he withdrew and closed the door. 

" But how glad I am ! " the woman rattled on, at 
the top of her voice. " And what a journey ! I am 
covered with dirt ! I shall need gallons of water ! " 

She walked rapidly to the door, opened it, and 
looked out. Then she closed and locked it, and, 
to his amazement, caught up one of his handker- 
chiefs and hung it over the knob so that it masked 
the keyhole. 

" They will not suspect," she said, in a lower 
tone, noticing his look. "They will suppose it is 
to conceal our marital endearments! Now we can 

59 



6o LITTLE COMRADE 

talk. But we will keep to English, if you do not 
mind. Someone might pass. Is everything ar- 
ranged ? Is the passport in order ? " 

Her eyes were shining with excitement, her lips 
were trembling. As he still stood staring, she came 
close to him and shook his arm. 

" Can it be that you do not know English ? " she 
demanded. " But that would be too stupid ! You 
understand English, do you not ? " 

" Yes, madam," stammered Stewart. " At least, 
I have always thought so." 

" Then why do you not answer ? Is anything 
wrong? You look as though you did not expect 
me. 

" Madam," answered Stewart, gravely, " will 
you kindly pinch me on the arm — here in the tender 
part? I have been told that is a test." 

She nipped him with a violence that made him 
jump. 

" Do not tell me that you are drunk ! " she hissed, 
viciously. " That would be too much ! Drunk at 
such a moment ! " 

But Stewart had begun to pull himself together. 

" No, madam, I am not drunk," he assured her; 
" and your pinch convinces me that I am not dream- 
ing." He rubbed his arm thoughtfully. " There 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 6i 

remains only one hypothesis — that I have suddenly 
gone mad. And yet I have never heard of any 
madness in my family, nor until this moment de- 
tected any symptoms in myself." 

" Is this a time for fooling? " she snapped. " Tell 
me at once " 

" There is, of course, another hypothesis," went 
on Stewart, calmly, " and that is that it is you who 
are mad " 

" Were you not expecting me? " she repeated. 

Stewart's eyes fell upon the satin slippers, and he 
smiled. 

" Why, certainly I was expecting you," he an- 
swered. " I was just saying to myself that the only 
thing lacking in this fairy-tale was the beautiful 
Cinderella — and presto; there you were!" 

She looked at him wildly, her eyes dark with fear. 
Suddenly she caught her lower lip between the thumb 
and little finger of her left hand, and stood a moment 
expectantly, holding it so and staring up at him. 
Then, as he stared back uncomprehendingly, she 
dropped into a chair and burst into a flood of 
tears. 

Now a pretty woman in tears is, as everyone 
knows, a sight to melt a heart of stone, especially if 
that heart be masculine. This woman was extremely 



62 LITTLE COMRADE 

pretty, and Stewart's heart was very masculine, with 
nothing granitic about it. 

" Oh, come," he protested, " it can't be so bad as 
that ! Let us sit down and talk this thing out quietly. 
Evidently there is a mistake somewhere." 

" Then you did not expect me?" she demanded, 
mopping her eyes. 

" Expect you ? No — except as the fulfillment of 
a fairy-tale." 

" You do not know who I am ? " 

" I haven't the slightest idea." 

" Nor why I am here ? " 

" No." 

" Ah, del! " she breathed, " then I am lost ! " and 
she turned so pale that Stewart thought she was 
going to faint. 

"Lost!" he protested. "In what way lost? 
What do you mean ? " 

By a mighty effort she fought back the faint- 
ness and regained a little of her self-control. 

" At this hotel," she explained, in a hoarse voice, 
" I was to have met a man who was to accompany 
me across the frontier. He had a passport for both 
of us — for himself and for his wife." 

" You were to pass as his wife? " 

" Yes." 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 63 

" But you did not know the man ? " 

" Evidently — or I should not have " 

She stopped, her face crimson with embarrass- 
ment. 

" H-m! " said Stewart, reflecting that he, at least, 
had no reason to regret the mistake. " Perhaps this 
unknown is in some other room." 

" No; you are the only person in the hotel." 
" Evidently, then, he has not arrived." 
" Evidently," she assented, and stared moodily at 
the floor, twisting her handkerchief in nervous, 
trembling hands. 

Stewart rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he looked 
at her. She seemed not more than twenty, and she 
was almost startlingly beautiful, with that peculiar 
lustrous duskiness of skin more common among the 
Latin races than with us. Slightly built, she yet 
gave the impression of having in reserve unusual 
nervous energy, which would brace her to meet any 
crisis. 

But what was she doing here? Why should she 
be driven to leave Germany as the wife of a man 
whom she had never seen? Or was it all a lie — ■ 
was she merely an adventuress seeking a fresh 
victim ? 

Stewart looked at her again, then he put that 



64 LITTLE COMRADE 

thought away, definitely and forever. He had had 
enough experience of women, as surgeon in a public 
clinic, to tell innocence from vice ; and he knew that 
it was innocence he was facing now. 

" You say you can't leave Germany without a 
passport ? " he asked at last. 

" No one can leave Germany without a pass- 
port." She sat up suddenly and looked at him, a new 
light in her eyes'. " Is it possible," she demanded, 
with trembling lips, " can it be possible that you 
possess a passport ? " 

" Why, yes," said Stewart, " I have a passport. 
Unfortunately, it is for myself alone. Never hav- 
ing had a wife " 

But she was standing before him, her hands out- 
stretched, tremulous with eagerness. 

" Let me see it ! " she cried. " Oh, let me see it ! " 

He got it out, gave it to her, and watched her as 
she unfolded it. Here was a woman, he told him- 
self, such as he had never met before — a woman of 
verve, of fire 

She was looking up at him with flaming eyes. 

" Mr. Stewart," she ' said, in a low voice, " you 
can save me, if you will." 

" Save you? " echoed Stewart. " But how? " 
\ She held the open passport toward him. 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 65 

" See, here, just below your name, there is a 
blank space covered with little parallel lines. If 
you will permit me to write in that space the words 
' accompanied by his wife,' I am saved. The pass- 
port will then be for both of us." 

" Or would be," agreed Stewart, dryly, " if you 
were my wife. As it happens, you are not ! " 

" It is such a little thing I ask of you," she 
pleaded. " We go to the station together — we take 
our seats in the train — at the frontier you show your 
passport. An hour later we shall be at Liege, and 
there our ways will part; but you will have done 
a noble action." 

There was witchery in her eyes, in her voice. 
Stewart felt himself slipping — slipping; but he 
caught himself in time. 

" I am afraid," he said, gently, " that you will 
have to tell me first what it is all about." 

" I can tell you in a word," she answered, draw- 
ing very near to him, and speaking almost in a 
whisper. " I am a Frenchwoman." 

" But surely," Stewart protested, " the Germans 
will not prevent your return to France! Why 
should they do that?" 

" It is not a question of returning, but of escap- 
ing. I am an Alsatian. I was born at Strassburg." 



66 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Oh," said Stewart, remembering the tone in 
which Bloem had spoken of Alsace-Lorraine and 
beginning vaguely to understand. " An Alsatian." 

" Yes ; but only Alsatians understand the meaning 
of that word. To be an Alsatian is to be a slave, 
is to be the victim of insult, oppression, tyranny past 
all belief. My father was murdered by the Ger- 
mans ; my two brothers have been dragged away into 
the German army and sent to fight the Russians, 
since Germany knows well that no Alsatian corps 
would fight the French ! Oh, how we have prayed 
and prayed for this war of restitution — the war 
which will give us back to France ! " 

" Yes ; I hope it will," agreed Stewart, heartily. 

" Of a certainty you do ! " she said, eagerly. " All 
Americans do. Not one have I ever known who 
took the German side. How could they ? How could 
any American be on the side of despotism? Oh, 
impossible ! America is on our side ! And you, as 
an American, will assist me to escape my enemies." 

" Your enemies ? " 

" I will not deceive you," she said, earnestly. " I 
trust you. I have lived all my life at Strassburg and 
at Metz, those two outposts against France — those 
two great fortresses of cities which the Germans 
have done their utmost to make impregnable, but 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 67 

which are not impregnable if attacked in a cer- 
tain way. They have their weak spot, just as every 
fortress has. I have dissembled, I have lied — I 
have pretended to admire the gold-laced pigs — I have 
permitted them to kiss my hand — I have listened to 
their confidences, their hopes and fears — I have even 
joined in their toast ' The Day ! ' Always, always 
have I kept my eyes and ears open. Bit by bit, have 
I gathered what I sought — a hint here, a hint there 
... I must get to France, my friend, and you must 
help me ! Surely you will be glad to strike a blow 
at these braggart Prussians! It is not for myself 
I ask it — ^though, if I am taken, there will be 
for me only one brief moment, facing a file of 
soldiers; I ask it for France — for your sister 
Republic!" 

If it had been for France alone, Stewart might 
still have hesitated; but as he gazed down into that 
eloquent face, wrung with desperate anxiety, he 
seemed to see, as in a vision, a file of soldiers in 
spiked helmets facing a wall where stood a lovely 
girl, her eyes flaming, her head flung back, smiling 
contemptuously at the leveled rifles; he saw again 
the flickering candles at the Virgin's feet 

" Very well," he said, abruptly — almost harshly. 
" I consent." 



68 LITTLE COMRADE 

Before he could draw back, she had flung herself 
on her knees before him, had caught his hand, and 
was covering it with tears and kisses. 

" Come, come, my dear," he said. " That won't 
do ! " And he bent over her and raised her to her 
feet. 

She was shaken with great sobs, and as she turned 
her streaming eyes up to him, her lips moving as if in 
prayer, Stewart saw how young she was, how lonely, 
how beautiful, how greatly in need of help. She 
had been fighting for her country with all her 
strength, with every resource, desperately, every 
nerve a-strain — and victory had been too much for 
her. But in a moment she had back her self- 
control. 

" There, it is finished ! " she said, smiling through 
her tears. " But the joy of your words was almost 
too great. I shall not behave like that again. And 
I shall not try to thank you. I think you under- 
stand — I cannot thank you — there are no words 
great enough." 

Stewart nodded, smilingly. 

"Yes; I understand," he said. 

" We have many things to do," she went on, 
rapidly, passing her handkerchief across her eyes 
with the gesture of one who puts sentiment aside. 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 69 

" First, the passport," and she caught it up from 
the chair on which she had laid it. 

" I would point out to you," said Stewart, " that 
there may be a certain danger in adding the words 
you mentioned." 

" But it is precisely for those words this blank 
space has been left." 

" That may be true ; but unless your handwriting 
is identical with that on the rest of the passport, and 
the ink the same, the first person who looks at it 
will detect the forgery." 

" Trust me," she said, and drawing a chair to the 
table, laid the passport before her and studied it 
carefully. From the little bag she had carried on 
her arm, she took a fountain-pen. She tested it on 
her finger-nail, and then, easily and rapidly, wrote 
" accompanied by his wife " across the blank space 
below Stewart's name. 

Stewart, staring down over her shoulder, was 
astonished by the cleverness of the forgery. It was 
perfect. 

" There," she added, " let it lie for five minutes 
and no one on earth can tell that those words were 
not written at the same time and by the same hand 
as all the others." 

A sudden doubt shook her hearer. Where had she 



70 LITTLE COMRADE 

learned to forge like that? Perhaps, after all 

She read his thought in his eyes. 

" To imitate handwriting is something which 
every member of the secret service must learn to 
do. This, on your passport, is a formal hand very 
easily imitated. But I must rid myself of this 
pen." 

She glanced quickly about the room, went to 
the open fireplace and threw the pen above the bricks 
which closed it off from the flue. Then she came 
back, motioned him to sit down, and drew a chair 
very close to his. 

" Now we have certain details to arrange," she 
said. " Your name is Bradford Stewart? " 

" Yes." 

"Have you a sobriquet?" 

"A what?" 

" A name of familiarity," she explained, " used 
only by your family or your friends." 

" Oh, a nickname ! Well," he admitted, unwill- 
ingly, " my father always called me Tommy." 

" Tommy ! Excellent ! I shall call you Tommy ! " 

" But I detest Tommy," he objected. 

" No matter ! " she said, peremptorily. " It will 
have to do. What is your profession?" 

" I am a surgeon." 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 71 

" Where do you live in America ? " 

" At Baltimore, in the State of Maryland." 

"Where have you been in Europe?" 

" To a clinical congress at Vienna, and then back 
through Germany." 

" Perfect ! • It could not be better ! Now, listen 
most carefully. The name of your wife is Mary. 
You have been married four years." 

" Any children ? " asked Stewart. 

" Please be serious ! " she protested, but from the 
sparkle in her eye Stewart saw that she was not 
offended. 

" I should have liked a boy of three and a girl of 
two," he explained. " But no matter — ^go ahead." 

" While you went to Vienna to attend your hor- 
rible clinic and learn new ways of cutting up human 
bodies, your wife remained at Spa, because of a 
slight nervous affection " 

" From which," said Stewart, " I am happy to see 
that she has entirely recovered." 

" Yes," she agreed ; " she is quite well again. Spa 
is in Belgium, so the Germans cannot disprove the 
story. We arranged to meet here and to go on to 
Brussels together. Do you understand? " 

" Perfectly," said Stewart, who was thoroughly 
enjoying himself. " By the way, Mary," he added, 



72 LITTLE COMRADE 

" no doubt it was your shoes and stockings I found 
in my grip awhile ago," and he pointed to where the 
slippers stood side by side. 

His companion stared at them for an instant in 
amazement, then burst into a peal of laughter. 

" How ridiculous ! But yes — they were intended 
for mine." 

" How did they get into my luggage ? " 

" The woman who manages this inn placed them 
there. She is one of us." 

"But what on earth for?" 

" So that the police might find them when they 
searched your bags." 

" Why should they search my bags ? " 

" There is a certain suspicion attaching to this 
place. It is impossible altogether to avoid it — so 
it is necessary to be very careful. The landlady 
thought that the discovery of the slippers might, in a 
measure, prepare the police for the arrival of your 
wife." 

" Then she knew you were coming?" 

" Certainly — since last night." 

" And when the man who was to meet you did not 
arrive, she decided that I would do ? " 

" I suppose so." 

" But how did she know I had a passport ? " 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 73 

" Perhaps you told her." 

Yes, Stewart reflected, he had told her, and yet 
he was not altogether satisfied. When had he told 
her? Surely it was not until he returned from his 
tour of the town; then there was not time — — 

" Here is your passport," said his companion, 
abruptly breaking in upon his thoughts. " Fold it 
up and place it in your pocket. And do not find it 
too readily when the police ask for it. You must 
seem not to know exactly where it is. Also pack 
your belongings. Yes, you would better include the 
slippers. Meanwhile I shall try to make myself a 
little presentable," and she opened the tiny bag from 
which she had produced the pen. 

" It seems to me," said Stewart, as he proceeded 
to obey, " that one pair of slippers and one pair of 
stockings is rather scanty baggage for a lady who 
has been at Spa for a month." 

" My baggage went direct from Spa to Brussels," 
she answered from before the mirror, " in order to 
avoid the customs examination at the frontier. 
Have you any other questions ? " 

" Only the big one as to who you really are, and 
where I'm going to see you again after you have de- 
livered your report — and all that." 

His back was toward her as he bent over his bags, 



74 LITTLE COMRADE 

and he did not see the quick glance she cast at 
him. 

" It is impossible to discuss that now," she said, 
hastily. " And I would warn you that the servant, 
Hans, is a spy. Be very careful before him — .be 
careful always, until we are safe across the frontier. 
There will be spies everywhere — a false word, a 
false movement, and all may be lost. Are you 
ready?" 

Stewart, rising from buckling the last strap, found 
himself confronting the most adorable girl he had 
ever seen. Every trace of the journey had disap- 
peared. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes were 
shining, and when she smiled, Stewart noticed a 
dimple set diagonally at the corner of her mouth — 
a dimple evidently placed just there to invite and 
challenge kisses. 

The admiration which flamed into his eyes was 
perhaps a trifle too ardent, for, looking at him 
steadily, she took a quick step toward him. 

" We are going to be good friends, are we not? " 
she asked. " Good comrades ? " 

And Stewart, looking down at her, understood. 
She was pleading for respect; she was telling him 
that she trusted him ; she was reminding him of the 
defenselessness of her girlhood, driven by hard 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 75 

necessity into this strange adventure. And, under- 
standing, he reached out and caught her hand. 

" Yes," he agreed. " Good comrades. Just 
that!" 

She gave his fingers a swift pressure. 

" Thank you," she said. " Now we must go 
down. Dinner will be waiting. Fortunately the 
train is very late." 

Stewart, glancing at his watch, saw that it was al- 
most six o'clock. 

" You are sure it is late? " he asked. 

" Yes ; at least an hour. We will send someone to 
inquire. Remember what I have told you about the 
waiter — about everyone. Not for an instant must 
we drop the mask, even though we may think our- 
selves unobserved. You will remember? " 

" I will try to," Stewart promised. " But don't 
be disappointed if you find me a poor actor. I am 
not in your class at all. However, if you'll give me 
the cue, I think I can follow it." 

" I know you can. Come," and she opened the 
door, restoring him the handkerchief which she had 
hung over the knob. 

As they went down the stair together, Stewart saw 
the landlady waiting anxiously at the foot. One 
glance at them, and her face became radiant. 



76 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Ah, you are late ! " she cried, shaking a reprov- 
ing finger. " But I expected it. I would not permit 
Hans to call you. When husband and wife meet 
after a long separation, they do not wish to be dis- 
turbed — not even for dinner. This way! I have 
placed the table in the court — ^it is much pleasanter 
there when the days are so warm," and she bustled 
before them to a vine-shaded corner of the court, 
where a snowy table awaited them. 

A moment later Hans entered with the soup. 
Stewart, happening to meet his glance, read the sus- 
picion there. 

" Well," he said, breaking oflf a piece of the crisp 
bread, " this is almost like home, isn't it ? I can't 
tell you, Mary, how glad I am to have you back 
again," and he reached out and gave her hand a 
little squeeze. " Looking so well, too. Spa was 
evidently just the place for you." 

" Yes — it was very pleasant and the doctor was 
very kind. But I am glad to get back to you, 
Tommy," she added, gazing at him fondly. " I 
could weep with joy just to look at that honest face 
of yours ! " 

Stewart felt his heart skip a beat. 

" You will make me conceited, if you don't take 
care, old lady ! " he protested. " And surely I've got 



ONE WAY TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 77 

enough cause for conceit already, with the most 
beautiful woman in the world sitting across from 
me, telling me she loves me. Don't blame me if I 
lose my head a little! " 

The ardor in his tone brought the color into her 
cheeks. 

" You must not look at me like that ! " she re- 
proved. " People will think we are on our moon of 
— our honeymoon," she corrected, hastily. 

" Instead of having been married four years ! I 
wonder how John and Sallie are getting along? 
Aren't you just crazy to see the kids ! " 

She choked over her soup, but managed to nod 
mutely. Then, as Hans removed the plates and dis- 
appeared in the direction of the kitchen, he added in 
a lower tone, " You must allow me the children. I 
find I can't be happy without them ! " 

" Very well," she agreed, the dimple sparkling. 
" You have been so kind that it is impossible for me 
to refuse you anything ! " 

" There is one thing I can't understand. Your 
English astonishes me. Where did you learn to 
speak it so perfectly?" 

" Ah, that is a long story ! Perhaps I shall one 
day tell it to you — if we ever meet again." 

" We must ! I demand that as my reward ! " 



78 LITTLE COMRADE 

She held up a warning finger as steps sounded 
along the passage; but it was only the landlady 
bringing the wine. That good woman was exuberant 
— a trifle too exuberant, as Stewart's companion told 
her with a quick glance. 

The dinner proceeded from course to course. 
Stewart had never enjoyed a meal more thoroughly. 
What meal, he asked himself, could possibly be com- 
monplace, shared by such a woman ? 

The landlady presently dispatched Hans to the 
station to inquire about the train, while she herself 
did the serving, and the two women ventured to ex- 
change a few words concerning their instructions. 
Stewart, listening, caught a glimpse of an intricate 
system of espionage extending to the very heart of 
Germany. But he asked no questions ; indeed, some 
instinct held him back from wishing to know more. 
" Spy " is not a pretty word, nor is a spy's work 
pretty work; he refused to think of it in connection 
with the lovely girl opposite him. 

" We shall have the police with us soon," said the 
landlady, in a low tone. " Hans will run at once to 
tell them of Madame's arrival." 

" Why do you keep him ? " Stewart asked. 

" It is by keeping him that I avert suspicion. 
If there was anything wrong here, the police tell 



ONE WAY. TO ACQUIRE A WIFE 79 

themselves, this spy of theirs would discover it. 
Knowing him to be a spy, I am on my guard. Be- 
sides, he is very stupid. But there — I will leave 
you. He may be back at any moment." 

He came back just in time to serve the coffee, with 
the information that their train would not arrive 
until seven-thirty ; then he stood watching them and 
listening to their talk of home and friends and plans 
for the future. 

Stewart began to be proud of his facility of in- 
vention, and of his abilities as an actor. But he had 
to admit that he was the merest bungler compared 
with his companion. Her mental quickness dazzled 
him, her high spirits were far more exhilarating than 
the wine. He ended by forgetting that he was play- 
ing a part. This woman was really his wife, they 
were going on together 

Suddenly Hans stirred in his corner. Heavy 
steps were coming toward the court along the sanded 
floor of the corridor. In a moment three men in 
spiked helmets stepped out into the fading light of 
the evening. 

" The police to speak to you, sir," said Hans, and 
Stewart, turning, found himself looking into three 
faces, in which hostility and suspicion were only too 
apparent. 



CHAPTER VI 
THE SNARE 

As the three men advanced to the table, Stewart 
saw that each of them carried a heavy pistol in a 
holster at his belt. 

" You speak German ? " one of them asked, 
gruiHy. 

" A little. But I would prefer to speak English," 
answered Stewart. 

" We will speak German. What is your nation- 
ality?" 

" I am an American." 

" Were you born in America ? " 

" Yes." 

" Have you a passport ? " 

" Yes." 

" Let me see it." 

Stewart was about to reach into his pocket and 
produce it, when he remembered his companion's 
suggestion. So he felt in one pocket after another 
without result, while the Germans shifted impa- 
tiently from foot to foot. 

80 



THE SNARE 8i 

" It must be in my other coat," he said, half to 
himself, enjoying the situation immensely. " But 
no ; I do not remember changing it. Ah, here it is ! " 
and he drew it forth and handed it to the officer. 

The latter took it, unfolded it, and stepped out 
into the court where the light was better. He read it 
through carefully, compared the description point by 
point with Stewart's appearance, and then came back 
to the table. 

" Who is this person ? " he asked, and nodded 
toward the girl. 

" She is my wife," answered Stewart, with a 
readiness which astonished himself. 

" She did riot arrive here with you." 

" No," and he told the story of how he had left 
her at Spa to recuperate from a slight nervous at- 
tack, while he himself went on to Vienna. He 
omitted no detail — even added a few, indeed, in the 
fervor of creation — and with his limited German, 
which his hearers regarded with evident contempt, 
the story took some time to tell. 

The police listened attentively to every word, with- 
out the slightest sign of impatience, but long before 
it was ended, the lady in question was twisting nerv- 
ously in her seat. 

" What is the matter, Tommy ? " she demanded. 



82 LITTLE COMRADE 

petulantly. " Are you relating to them the story of 
your life? " 

" No," he explained, blandly, venturing at last 
to look at her, " I was just telling them how it 
was that you and I had arranged to meet at this 
hotel." 

" Well — now tell them to go away. They are 
ugly and they annoy me." 

" What does she say ? " asked the officer. 

Stewart was certain that at least one of them 
knew English, so he judged it best to translate 
literally. 

" She wants to know what is the matter," he an- 
swered. " She asks me to tell you to go away — that 
you annoy her." 

The officer smiled grimly. 

" She does not understand German ? " 

" Not a word," lied Stewart, glibly. 

"What is her name?" 

" Mary." 

" Her maiden name ? " 

" Mary Agnes Fleming," answered Stewart, re- 
peating the first name that occurred to him, and 
thanking his stars the next instant that the officer 
could scarcely be acquainted with the lesser lights 
of English fiction. 



THE SNARE 83 

" Is that correct ? " asked the officer, suddenly 
turning upon her. 

Stewart's heart gave a leap of fear; but after a 
stare at the officer, she turned to her companion. 

" Was he speaking to me. Tommy? " she asked; 
and it was only by a heroic effort that Stewart 
choked back the sudden snort of laughter that rose 
in his throat. 

" Yes," he managed to answer; " he wants to 
know your maiden name." 

" Why should he wish to know that ? " 

" I give it up ; but you'd better tell him." 

" My maiden name was Mary Agnes Fleming," 
she said, looking at the officer with evident disap- 
probation. " Though what concern it is of yours I 
cannot see." 

" What does she say ? " demanded the officer, and 
again Stewart translated literally. 

The officer stood staring intently at both of them, 
till the lady, with a flash of indignation, turned her 
back. 

" Really, Tommy," she said, over her shoulder, 
" if you do not at once get rid of this brute, I shall 
never speak to you again ! " 

" He is a policeman, dear," Stewart explained, 
" and imagines that he is doing his duty. I sup- 



84 LITTLE COMRADE 

pose they do have to be careful in war-time. We 
must be patient." 

" I will look at her passport," said the German, 
suddenly, and held out his hand. 

" My passport is for both of us," Stewart ex- 
plained. " Those words ' accompanied by his wife,' 
make it inclusive." 

The officer went out into the light again and ex- 
amined the words with minute attention. 

" I find no description of her," he said, coming 
back. 

" There is none," assented Stewart, impatiently ; 
" but there is a description of me, as you see. The 
passport adds that I am accompanied by my wife. 
I tell you that this lady is my wife. That is suffi- 
cient." 

The officer glanced at his companions uncertainly. 
Then he slowly folded up the passport and handed it 
back. 

" When do you depart from Aachen ? " he asked. 

" By the first train for Brussels. I am told that 
it will arrive in about half an hour." 

" Very well," said the other. " I regret if I have 
seemed insistent, but the fact that the lady did not 
arrive with you appeared to us singular. I will 
report your explanation to my chief," and he turned 



THE SNARE 85 

on his heel and stalked away, followed by his men.' 

Stewart drew a deep breath. . 

" Well," he began, when he was stopped by a 
sharp tap from his companion's foot. 

" Such impudence ! " she cried. " I was aston- 
ished at your patience. Tommy ! You, an American, 
letting a Prussian policeman intimidate you like that ! 
I am ashamed of you ! " 

Glancing around, Stewart saw the hang-dog Hans 
hovering in the doorway. 

" He was. a big policeman, my dear," he ex- 
plained, laughing. " I shouldn't have had much 
of a chance with him, to say nothing of his two 
men. If we want to get to Brussels, the safest plan 
is to answer calmly all the questions the German 
police can think of. But it is time for us to be going. 
There will be no reserved seats on this train ! " 

"You are right," agreed his companion; "I am 
quite ready." 

So he asked for the bill, paid it, sent Hans up 
for the luggage, and presently they were walking 
toward the station, with Hans staggering along be- 
hind. 

Stewart, looking down at his companion, felt 
more and more elated over the adventure. He had 
never passed a pleasanter evening — ^it had just the 



86 LITTLE COMRADE 

touch of excitement needed to give it relish. Un- 
fortunately, its end was near; an hour or two in a 
crowded railway carriage, and — .that was all ! 

She glanced up at him and caught his eyes. 

" What is it, my friend ? " she asked. " You ap- 
pear sad." 

" I was just thinking," answered Stewart, " that 
I do not even know your name ! " 

" Speak lower ! " she said, quickly. " Or, better 
still, do not say such things at all. Do not drop the 
mask for an instant until we are out of Germany." 

" Very well," Stewart promised. " But once we 
are across the border, I warn you that I intend to 
throw the mask away, and that I shall have certain 
very serious things to say to you." 

" And I promise to listen patiently," she answered, 
smiling. 

At the entrance to the station, they were stopped 
by a guard, who demanded their tickets. Stewart 
was about to produce his, when his companion 
touched him on the arm. 

" Hasten and get them, Tommy," she said. " I 
will wait here." 

And Stewart, as he hurried away, trembled to 
think how nearly he had blundered. For how could 
he have explained to the authorities the fact that he 



THE SNARE 87 

was traveling with a book of Cook's circular tickets, 
while his wife was buying her tickets from station 
to station? 

There was a long line of people in front of the 
ticket-ofiQce, and their progress was slow, for two 
police officers stood at the head of the line and 
interrogated every applicant for a ticket before they 
would permit it to be given him. Stewart, as he 
moved slowly forward, saw two men jerked vio- 
lently out of the line and placed under arrest; he 
wondered uncomfortably if the officers had any 
instructions with regard to him, but, when his turn 
came, he faced them as unconcernedly as he was able. 
He explained that he and his wife were going to 
Brussels, showed his passport, and finally hastened 
away triumphant with the two precious bits of 
pasteboard. It seemed to him that the last difficulty 
had been encountered and overcome, and it was only 
by an effort that he kept himself from waving the 
tickets in the air as he rejoined his companion. In 
another moment, they were past the barrier. Hans 
was permitted to enter with them, and mounted 
guard over the luggage. 

The platform was thronged with a motley and 
excited crowd, among whom were many officers in 
long gray coats and trailing swords, evidently on 



88 LITTLE COMRADE 

their way to join their commands. They were stalk- 
ing up and down, with a lofty disregard for base 
civilians, talking loudly, gesticulating fiercely, and 
stopping ever and anon to shake hands solemnly. 
Stewart was watching them with an amusement 
somewhat too apparent, for his companion sud- 
denly passed her arm through his. 

" I should like to walk a little," she said. " I have 
been sitting too long." Then, in a lower tone, as 
they started along the platform, " It would be more 
wise not to look at those idiots. They would seek 
a quarrel with you in an instant if they suspected 
it was at them you were smiling." 

" You are right," Stewart agreed ; " besides, there 
is someone else whom I think much better worth 
looking at ! The oflficers seem to share my opinion," 
he added, for more than one head was turned as they 
walked slowly down the platform. " I shall be 
jealous in a moment ! " 

" Do not talk nonsense ! Nothing is so absurd 
as for a man to make love to his wife in pub- 
lic!" 

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. 



THE SNARE 89 

" 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 pas- 
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 Cher- 
bourg." 

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 be- 
hind them, and who shot a sharp glance at him and 
his companion before stepping aside with a mut- 
tered apology. Not until they had passed him did 
Stewart remember that he had seen the man before. 
It was the surly passenger in the crowded compart- 
ment on the journey from Cologne. 

His companion had not seemed to notice the fel- 
low, 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 plat- 
form for a moment clear around them, did she 
relax her guard. 

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



90 LITTLE COMRADE 

" 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 be- 
ginning. 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 class," 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 sol- 
diers ; then there were two carriages half-filled with 
officers, upon whom no one ventured to intrude. 



THE SNARE 91 

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 disre- 
gard of the regulations which proved how excited he 
was, had wrenched open the door of the first com- 
partment 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. 



92 LITTLE COMRADE 

" 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 passport frequently. Germans are al- 
ways 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, passed on to the other 
compartments. Stewart, putting his head out of the 
window, saw that the line of police were still keep- 
ing 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. 



THE SNARE 93 

" 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 com- 
fortably 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 com- 
panion 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 them- 
selves ? Was there an ear glued to some hole in the 



94 LITTLE COMRADE 

partition — '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 com- 
partment — 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. 



THE SNARE 95 

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 en- 
camped 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 thought- 
fully 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. 



96 LITTLE COMRADE 

from time to time, passed 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." 



THE SNARE 97 

" 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 un- 
expurgated 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. 

It was locked. 

The certainty that they were trapped turned him 
a little giddy. 

" Who the devil could have locked this door? " he 
demanded, shaking the handle savagely. 

" Seat yourself. Tommy," his companion advised. 
" Do not excite yourself — and have your passport 
ready. Perhaps they will not put us ofif." 



98 LITTLE COMRADE 

And then a face, crowned by the ubiquitous spiked 
helmet, appeared at the window. 

" You will have to get out," said the man in Ger- 
man, and tried to open the door. 

Stewart shook his head to show that he didn't 
understand, and produced his passport. 

The man waved it impatiently away, and wrenched 
viciously at the door, purple with rage at finding it 
locked. Then he shouted savagely at someone far- 
ther up the platform. 

" I have always been told that the Germans were 
a phlegmatic people," observed Stewart ; " but as a 
matter of fact, they blow up quicker and harder than 
anybody I ever saw. Look at that fellow, 
now " 

But at that moment a guard came running up, 
produced a key, and opened the door. 

" Come, get out ! " said the man, with a gesture 
there was no mistaking, and Stewart, picking up his 
bags, stepped out upon the platform and helped his 
companion to alight. 

" How long will we be detained here ? " he asked 
in English ; but the man, with a contemptuous shrug, 
motioned him to stand back. 

Looking along the platform, Stewart saw ap- 
proaching the head of an infantry column. In a 



THE SNARE 99 

moment, the soldiers were clambering into the 
coaches, with the same mathematical precision he 
had seen before. But there was something unfa- 
miliar in their appearance ; and, looking more closely, 
Stewart saw that their spiked helmets were covered 
with gray cloth, and that not a button or bit of 
gilt glittered anywhere on the gray-green field uni- 
forms. Wonderful forethought, he told himself. 
By night these troops would be quite invisible; by 
day they would be merged indistinguishably with the 
brown soil of the fields, the gray trunks of trees, 
the green of hedges. 

The train rolled slowly out of the station, and 
Stewart saw that on the track beyond there was an- 
other, also loaded with troops. In a moment, it 
started westward after the first; and beyond it a 
third train lay revealed. 

Stewart, glancing at his companion, was startled 
by the whiteness of her face, the steely glitter of her 
eyes. 

" It looks like a regular invasion," he said. " But 
let us find out what's going to happen to us. We 
can't stand here all night. Good heavens — what is 
that?" 

From the air above them came the sudden savage 
whirr of a powerful engine, and, looking up, they 



loo LITTLE COMRADE 

saw a giant shape sweep across the sky. It was gone 
in an instant. 

" A Zeppelin ! " said Stewart, and felt within him- 
self a thrill of wonder and exultation. Oh, this 
would be a great war! It would be like no other 
ever seen upon this earth. It would be fought in the 
air, as well as on the land ; in the depths of the ocean, 
as well as on its surface. At last all theories were 
to be put to the supreme test ! 

" You will come with me," said the man in the 
helmet, and Stewart, with a nod, picked up his grips 
again before he remembered that he was supposed 
to be ignorant of German. 

" Did you say there was another train ? " he asked. 
" Shall we be able to get away ? " 

The man shook his head and led the way along 
the platform, without glancing to the right or left. 
As they passed the bare little station, they saw that 
it was jammed to the doors with men and women 
and children, mixed in an indiscriminate mass, and 
evidently most uncomfortable. But their guide led 
them past it without stopping, and Stewart breathed 
a sigh of relief. Anything would be better than to 
be thrust into that crowd ! 

Again he had cause to wonder at the length of that 
interminable platform; but at last, near its farther 



THE SNARE loi 

end, their guide stopped before a small, square 
structure, whose use Stewart could not even guess, 
and flung open the door. 

" You will enter here," he said. 

" But look here," Stewart protested, " we are 
American citizens. You have no right " 

The man signed to them to hurry. There was 
something in the gesture which stopped the words on 
Stewart's lips. 

" Oh, damn the fool ! " he growled, swallowing 
hard. " Come along, my dear ; there's no use to 
argue," and, bending his head at the low door, he 
stepped inside. 

In an instant, the door was slammed shut, and the 
snap of a lock told them that they were prisoners. 



CHAPTER VII 
IN THE TRAP 

As Stewart set down his bags, still swearing softly 
to himself, he heard behind him the sound of a 
stifled sob. 

"There! there!" he said. "We'll soon be all 
right ! " and as he turned swiftly and reached out his 
arms to grope for her, it seemed to him that she 
walked right into them. 

" Oh, oh ! " she moaned, and pressed close against 
him. " What will they do to us ? Why have they 
placed us here ? " And then he felt her lips against 
his ear. " Be careful ! " she whispered in the merest 
breath. " There is an open window I " 

Stewart's heart was thrilling. What a woman! 
What an actress! Well, he would prove that he, 
too, could play a part. 

" They will do nothing to us, dear," he answered, 
patting her shoulder. " They will not dare to harm 
us ! Remember, we are Americans ! " 

"But — ^but why should they place us here?" 



IN THE TRAP 103 

" I don't know — I suppose they have to be careful. 
I'll appeal to our ambassador in the morning. He'll 
soon bring them to their senses. So don't worry! " 

" But it is so dark ! " she complained. " And I am 
so tired. Can we not seat ourselves somewhere?" 

" We can sit on our bags," said Stewart. 
" Wait ! " In a moment he had found them and 
placed them one upon the other. " There you are. 
Now let us see what sort of a place we've come 
to." 

He got out his match-box and struck a light. The 
first flare almost blinded him; then, holding the 
match above his head, he saw they were in a brick 
cubicle, about twenty feet square. There was a 
single small window, without glass but heavily 
barred. The place was empty, save for a pile of 
barrels against one end. 

" It's a store-house of some kind," he said, and 
then he sniffed sharply. " Gasoline ! I'd better not 
strike any more matches." 

He sat down beside her and for some moments 
they were silent. Almost unconsciously, his arm 
found its way about her waist. She did not draw 
away. 

" Do you suppose they will keep us here all 
night ? " she asked, at last. 



104 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Heaven knows ! They seem capable of any 
folly!" 

And then again he felt her lips against his ear. 

" We must destroy your ticket," she breathed. 
" Can you find it in the dark ? " 

" I think so." He fumbled in an inside pocket and 
drew it out. " Here it is." 

Her groping hand found his and took the ticket. 

" Now talk to me," she said. 

Stewart talked at random, wondering how she 
intended to destroy the ticket. Once he fancied he 
heard the sound of soft tearing; and once, when she 
spoke in answer to a question, her voice seemed 
strange and muffled. 

" It is done," she whispered at last. " Place these 
in your pocket and continue talking." 

Her groping hand touched his and he found him- 
self grasping two minute objects whose nature he 
could not guess, until, feeling them carefully, he 
found them to be the small wire staples which had 
held the coupons of the ticket together. He slipped 
them into his waistcoat pocket; and then, as he be- 
gan to tell her about the women from Philadelphia 
and the journey from Cologne, he was conscious that 
she was no longer beside him. But at the end of a 
moment she was back again. 



IN THE TRAP 105 

" That girl was perfectly right," she said. 
" Women are very silly to try to travel about Eu- 
rope without a man as escort. Consider how I 
should feel at this moment if I did not have 
you!" 

But in spite of themselves, the conversation 
lagged; and they finally sat silent. 

How strange a thing was chance, Stewart pon- 
dered. Here was he who, until to-day, had seen his 
life stretching before him ordered and prosaic, 
cast suddenly into the midst of strange adventure. 
Here was this girl, whom he had known for only 
a few hours and yet seemed to have known for years 
— whom he certainly knew better than he had ever 
known any other woman There was Bloem — ^he 
had been cast into adventure, too. Was he outside 
somewhere, among all those thousands, gazing up 
at the stars and wondering at Fate ? And the thou- 
sands themselves — ^the millions mustering at this 
moment into the armies of Europe — to what tragic 
adventure were they being hurried! 

A quick step came along the platform and stopped 
at the door; there was the snap of a lock, and the 
door swung open. 

" You will come out," said a voice in English. 

Against the lights of the station, Stewart saw out- 



io6 LITTLE COMRADE 

lined the figure of a man in uniform. He rose 
wearily. 

" Come, dear," he said, and helped her to her 
feet ; " it seems we are to go somewhere else." Then 
he looked down at the heavy bags. " I can't carry 
those things all over creation," he said; " what's 
more, I won't." 

" I will attend to that," said the stranger, and 
put a whistle to his lips and blew a shrill blast. 
Two men came running up. " You will take those 
bags," he ordered. " Follow me," he added to 
Stewart. 

They followed him along the platform, crossed 
the track to another, and came at last to a great 
empty shed with a low table running along one side. 
The men placed the bags upon this table and with- 
drew. 

" I shall have to search them," said the officer. 
"Are they locked?" 

He stood in the glare of a lamp hanging from 
the rafters, and for the first time, Stewart saw his 
face. The man smiled at his start of surprise. 

" I see you recognize me," he said. " Yes — I was 
in your compartment coming from Cologne. We 
will speak of that later. Are your bags locked? " 

" No," said Stewart. 



IN THE TRAP 107 

HeTfvatched with affected listlessness as the officer 
undid the straps and raised the lids. But his mind 
was very busy. Had he said anything during that 
ride from Cologne which he would now have reason 
to regret? Had he intimated that he was unmar- 
ried ? He struggled to recall the conversation, sen- 
tence by sentence, but could remember nothing that 
was actually incriminating. And yet, in mentioning 
his intended stop at Aix-la-Chapelle, he had not 
added that he was to meet his wife there, and he had 
made a tentative arrangement to see Miss Field 
again in Brussels. The talk, in other words, had 
been carried on from the angle of a bachelor with 
no one to think of but himself, and not from that 
of a married man with a wife to consider. 

It was certainly unfortunate that the man who had 
happened to overhear that conversation should be 
the one detailed here to examine his luggage. How 
well did he know English ? Was he acute enough to 
catch the implications of the conversation, or would 
a disregard of one's wife seem natural to his Teu- 
tonic mind ? Stewart glanced at him covertly ; and 
then his attention was suddenly caught and held by 
the extreme care with which the man examined the 
contents of the bags. 

He shook out each garment, put his hand in every 



loS LITTLE COMRADE 

pocket, examined the linings with his finger-tips, 
ripped open one where he detected some unusual 
thickness only to discover a strip of reenforcement, 
opened and read carefully every letter and paper, 
turned the Baedeker page by page to be sure that 
nothing lay between them. He paused over the satin 
shoes and stockings, but put them down finally with- 
out comment. At last the bags were empty, and, tak- 
ing up his knife, he proceeded to rip open the linen 
linings and look under them. Then, with equal care, 
he returned each article to its place, examining it a 
second time with the same intent scrutiny. 

All this took time, and long before it was over, 
Stewart and his companion had dropped upon a 
bench which ran along the wall opposite the table. 
Stewart was so weary that he began to feel that 
nothing mattered very much, and he could see that 
the girl also was deadly tired. But at last the search 
was finished and the bags closed and strapped. 

" I should like to see the small bag which Madame 
carries on her arm," said the officer, and, without 
a word, the girl held it out to him. 

He examined its contents with a minuteness al- 
most microscopic. Nothing was too small, too unim- 
portant, to escape the closest attention. Stewart, 
marveling at this exhibition of German thorough- 



IN THE TRAP 109 

ness, watched him through half-closed eyes, his heart 
beating a little faster. Would he find some clew, 
some evidence of treachery ? 

There were some handkerchiefs in the bag, and 
some small toilet articles; a cake of soap in a case, 
a box of powder, a small purse containing some gold 
and silver, a post-card, two or three letters, and 
some trivial odds and ends such as every woman 
carries about with her. The searcher unfolded each 
of the handkerchiefs and held it against the light, 
he cut the cake of soap into minute fragments; he 
emptied the box of powder and ran an inquiring 
finger through its contents ; he turned out the purse 
and looked at every coin it contained; then he sat 
down and read slowly and gravely the postcard and 
each of the letters and examined their postmarks, 
and finally he took one of the closely- written sheets, 
mounted on his chair, and held the sheet close against 
the chimney of the lamp until it was smoking with 
the heat, examining it with minute attention as 
though he rather expected to make some interesting 
discovery. As a finish to his researches, he ripped 
open the lining of the bag and turned it inside 
out. 

" Where did you buy this bag, madame ? " he 
asked. 



no LITTLE COMRADE 

" In Paris, a month ago." 

" These handkerchiefs are also French." 

" Certainly. French handkerchiefs are the best 
in the world." 

He compressed his lips and looked at her. 

" And that is a French hat," he went on. 

" Good heavens ! " cried the girl. " One would 
think I was passing the customs at New York. Cer- 
tainly it is French. So is my gown — so are my 
stockings — so is my underwear. For what else does 
an American woman come abroad?" 

He looked at her shoes. She saw his glance and 
understood it. 

" No ; my shoes are American. The French do 
not know how to make shoes." 

" But the slippers are French." 

"Which slippers?" 

" The ones in your husband's bag." 

She turned laughingly to Stewart. 

" Have you been carrying a pair of my slippers 
all around Europe, Tommy?" she asked. "How 
did that happen ? " 

" I don't know. I packed in rather a hurry," 
answered Stewart, sheepishly. 

" Where is the remainder of your baggage, 
madame ? " asked the officer. 



IN THE TRAP iii 

" At Brussels — at least, I hope so. I sent it there 
direct from Spa." 

"Why did you do that?" 

" In order to avoid the examination at the 
frontier." 

" Why did not you yourself go direct to Brus- 
sels?" 

" I wished to see my husband. I had not seen him 
for almost a month," and she cast Stewart a fond 
smile. 

"Have you been recently married?" 

" We have been married four years," the girl in- 
formed him, with dignity. 

Stewart started to give some additional infor- 
mation about the family, but restrained him- 
self. 

The inspector looked ^at them both keenly for a 
moment, scratching his bearded chin reflectively. 
Then he took a rapid turn up and down the shed, his 
brow furrowed in thought. 

" I shall have to ask you both to disrobe," he said, 
at last, and as Stewart started to his feet in hot 
protest, he added, quickly, " I have a woman who 
will disrobe Madame." 

" But this is an outrage ! " protested Stewart, his 
face crimson. " This lady is my wife — I won't 



112 LITTLE COMRADE 

stand by and see her insulted. I warn you that you 
are making a serious mistake." 

" She shall not be insulted. Besides, it is neces- 
sary." 

" I don't see it." 

" That is for me to decide," said the other bluntly, 
and he put his whistle to his lips and blew two blasts. 

A door at the farther end of the shed opened and 
a woman entered. She was a matronly creature with 
a kind face, and she smiled encouragingly at the 
shrinking girl. 

" Frau Ritter," said the officer in German, " you 
will take this lady into the office and disrobe her. 
Bring her clothing to me here — all of it." 

Again Stewart started to protest, but the officer 
silenced him with a gesture. 

" It is useless to attempt resistance," he said, 
sharply. " I must do my duty — by force if neces- 
sary. It will be much wiser to obey quietly." 

The girl rose to her feet, evidently reassured by 
the benevolent appearance of the woman. 

" Do not worry. Tommy," she said. " It will be 
all right. It is of no use to argue with these people. 
There is nothing to do but submit." 

" So it seems," Stewart muttered, and watched 
her until she disappeared through the door. 



IN THE TRAP 113 

" Now, sir," said the officer, sharply, " your 
clothes." 

Crimson with anger and humiliation, Stewart 
handed them over piece by piece, saw pockets turned 
out, linings loosened here and there, the heels of his 
shoes examined, his fountain-pen unscrewed and 
emptied of its ink. At last he stood naked under the 
flaring light, feeling helpless as a baby. 

" Well, I hope you are satisfied," he said, vin- 
dictively. 

With a curt nod, the officer handed him back his 
underwear. 

" I will keep these for the moment," he said, indi- 
cating the little pile of things taken from the pockets. 
" You may dress. Your clothes, at least, are Ameri- 
can!" 

As he spoke, the woman entered from the far- 
ther door, with a bundle of clothing in her arms. 
Stewart turned hastily away, struggling into his 
trousers as rapidly as he could, and cursing the 
careless immodesty of these people. Sullenly he 
laced his shoes, and put on his collar, noting wrath- 
f ully that it was soiled. He kept his back to the man 
at the table — he felt that it would be indecent to 
watch him scrutinizing those intimate articles of 
apparel. 



114 LITTLE COMRADE 

"You have examined her hair?" he heard the 
man ask. 

" Yes, Excellency." 

" Very well; you may take these back." 

Not until he heard the door close behind her did 
Stewart turn around. The officer was lighting a 
cigarette. The careless unconcern of the act added 
new fuel to the American's wrath. 

" Perhaps you will tell me the meaning of all 
this? " he demanded. " Why should my wife and I 
be compelled to submit to these indignities ? " 

" We are looking for a spy," replied the other 
imperturbably, and . addressed himself to an ex- 
amination of the things he had taken from Stewart's 
pockets — his penknife, his watch, the contents of 
his purse, the papers in his pocket-book. He even 
placed a meditative finger for an instant on the two 
tiny metal clips which had come from the Cook 
ticket. But to reconstruct their use was evidently 
too great a task even for a German police agent, for 
he passed on almost at once to something else. 
" Very good," he said at last, pushed the pile toward 
its owner, and opened the passport, which he had laid 
to one side. 

" That passport will tell you that I am not a spy," 
said Stewart, putting his things angrily back into his 



IN THE TRAP 

pockets. " That, it seems to me, should be s 
cient." 

" As far as you are concerned, it is entirely s 
cient," said the other. " One can see at a gk 
that you are an American. But the appearance 
Madame is distinctly French." 

" Americans are of every race," Stewart poii 
out. " I have seen many who look far more ( 
man than you do." 

" That is true ; but it so happens that the spy 
are looking for is a woman. I cannot tell you m 
except that it is imperative she does not escape, 

" And you suspect my wife ? " Stewart demam 
" But that is absurd ! " 

He was proud of the fact that he had mana 
to maintain unaltered his expression of virtt 
indignation, for a sudden chill had run down 
spine at the other's careless words. Evidently 
situation was .far more dangerous than he had 
pected ! Then he was conscious that his hands v 
trembling slightly, and thrust them quickly into 
pockets. 

" The fact that she joined you at Aachen seei 
most suspicious," the inspector pointed out. " 1 
not remember that you mentioned her during j 
conversation with the ladies in the train." 



ii6 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Certainly not. Why should I have mentioned 
her?" 

" There was perhaps no reason for doing so," the 
inspector admitted. " Nevertheless, it seemed to us 
unusual that she should have come back from Spa to 
Aachen to meet you, when she might, so much more 
conveniently, have gone direct to Brussels and 
awaited you there." 

" She has explained why we made that arrange- 
ment." 

" Yes," and through half-closed eyes he watched 
the smoke from his cigarette circle upwards toward 
the lamp. " Conjugal affection — ^most admirable, I 
am sure ! It is unfortunate that Madame's appear- 
ance should answer so closely to that of the woman 
for whom we are searching. It was also unfortunate 
that you should have met at the Kolner Hof . That 
hotel has not a good reputation — it is frequented by 
too many French whose business is not quite clear 
to us. How did it happen that you went there? " 

" Why," retorted Stewart hotly, glad of the 
chance to return one of the many blows which had 
been rained upon him, " one of your own men 
recommended it." 

" One of my own men ? I do not understand," 
and the officer looked at him curiously. 



IN THE TRAP 117 

" At least one of the police. He came to me at the 
Hotel Continental at Cologne to examine my pass- 
port. He asked me where I was going from Cologne, 
and I told him to Aix-la-Chapelle. He asked at 
which hotel I was going to stay, and I said I did 
not know. He said he would like to have that in- 
formation for his report, and added that the Kolner 
Hof was near the station and very clean and com- 
fortable. I certainly found it so." 

The officer was listening with peculiar intentness. 

" Why were you not at the station to meet your 
wife ? " he asked. 

" I did not know when she would arrive ; I was 
told that the trains were all running irregularly," 
answered Stewart, prouder of his ability to lie well 
and quickly than he had ever been of anything else 
in his life. 

" But how did she know at which hotel to find 
you ? " inquired the officer, and negligently flipped 
the ash from his cigarette. 

Stewart distinctly felt his heart turn over as he 
saw the abyss at his feet. How would she have 
known ? How could she have known ? What would 
he have done if he had really had a wife waiting at 
Spa ? These questions flashed through his head like 
lightning. 



ii8 LITTLE COMRADE. 

" Why, I telegraphed her, of course," he said ; 
" and to make assurance doubly sure, I sent her a 
postcard." And then his heart fell again, for he 
realized that the police had only to wire to Cologne 
to prove that no such message had been filed there. 

But the officer tossed away his cigarette with a 
little gesture of satisfaction. 

" It was well you took the latter precaution, Mr. 
Stewart," he said, and Stewart detected a subtle 
change in his tone — it was less cold, more friendly. 
" The wires were closed last night to any but official 
business, and your message could not possibly have 
got through. I am surprised that it was accepted." 

" I gave it to the porter at the hotel," Stewart ex- 
plained. " Perhaps it wasn't accepted, and he just 
kept the money." 

" That may be. But your postcard got through, 
as you no doubt know. It evidently caught the night 
mail and was delivered to Madame this morning." 

" Really," stammered Stewart, wondering desper- 
ately if this was another trap, " I didn't know — I 
didn't think to ask " 

"Luckily Madame brought it with her in her 
hand-bag," explained the other. " It offers a 
convincing confirmation of your story — the more 
convincing perhaps since you seem surprised that 



IN THE TRAP 119 

she preserved it. Ah, here she is now," and he 
arose as the door opened and the girl came in. 
" Will you not sit down, madame ? " he went on, 
courteously. " I pray that both of you will accept 
my sincere apologies for the inconvenience I have 
caused you. Believe me, it was one of war's neces- 
sities." 

The girl glanced at the speaker curiously, his tone 
was so warm, so full of friendship ; then she glanced 
at Stewart — — 

And Stewart, catching that glance, was suddenly 
conscious that his mouth was open and his eyes star- 
ing and his whole attitude that of a man struck 
dumb by astonishment. Hastily he bent over to re- 
tie a shoestring. But really, he told himself, he 
could not be blamed for being disconcerted — any- 
body would be disconcerted to be told suddenly that 
his most desperate lie was true ! But how could it 
be true? How could there be any such postcard as 
the German had described? Was it just another 
trap? 

" We understand, of course, that you were merely 
doing your duty," the girl's voice was saying ; " what 
seemed unfair was that we should be the victims. 
Do I understand that — ^that you no longer suspect 
us?" 



I20 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Absolutely not ; and I apologize for my sus- 
picions." 

" Then we are at liberty to proceed ? " 

" You cannot in any event proceed to-night. I 
will pass you in the morning. And I hope you will 
not think that any discourtesy was intended to you 
as Americans. Germany is most anxious to retain 
the good-will of America. It will mean much to us 
in this struggle." 

" Most Americans are rather sentimental over 
Alsace-Lorraine," said Stewart, who had recovered 
his composure, and he fished for a cigar and offered 
one to the officer, who accepted it with a bow of 
thanks. 

" That is because they do not understand," said the 
other, quickly. " Alsace and Lorraine belong of 
right to Germany. Of that there can be no ques- 
tion." 

" But haven't you been rather harsh with them ? " 

" We have not been harsh enough. Had we done 
our duty, we would have stamped out without 
mercy the treason which is still rampant in many 
parts of those provinces. Instead, we have hesi- 
tated, we have temporized — and now, too late, we 
realize our mistake. The spy for whom we are 
searching at this moment comes from Strassburg." 



IN THE TRAP 121 

Stevart started at the words; but the girl 
threw back her head and burst into delighted 
laughter. 

" So you took us for spies ! " she cried. " What 
a tale to tell. Tommy, when we get home ! " 

" There is but one spy, madame," said the officer; 
" a woman young and beautiful like yourself — ac- 
complished, distinguished, a great linguist, a fine 
musician, of good family, and moving in the high- 
est society in Alsace. She was on terms of intimacy 
with many of our officers; they did not hesitate to 
talk freely to her. Some of them, fascinated by 
her wit and beauty and wishing to prove their own 
importance, told her things which they had no right 
to tell. More than that, at the last moment she suc- 
ceeded in getting possession for a time of certain 
confidential documents. But she had gone too far — • 
she was suspected — she fled — and she has not yet 
been captured. But she cannot escape — we can- 
not permit her to escape. We know that she is still 
somewhere in Germany, and we have made it im- 
possible for her to pass the frontier. A person who 
knows her is to be stationed at every post, and no 
woman will be permitted to pass until he has seen 
her. The man to be stationed here will arrive from 
Strassburg in an hour. As a final precaution, 



122' LITTLE COMRADE 

madame," he added, smiling, " and because my or- 
ders are most precise and stringent, I shall ask you 
and your husband to remain here at Herbesthal until 
morning. As I have said, you could not, in any 
event, go on to-night, for the frontier is closed. In 
the morning, I will ask my man from Strassburg to 
look at you, and will then provide you with a safe- 
conduct, and see that every possible facility is given 
you to get safely across the frontier." 

" Thank you," she said ; " you are most kind. 
That is why you are keeping all those people shut up 
in the station?" 

" Yes, madame. They cannot pass until my man 
has seen them." 

" But you are not searching them ? " 

" No; with most of them, the detention is a mere 
matter of obeying orders — one can tell their na- 
tionality at a glance. But to look at you, madame, 
I should never have supposed you to be an American 
— -I should have supposed you to be French." 

" My grandmother was French," explained the 
girl, composedly, " and I am said to resemble her 
very closely. I must also warn you that my sym- 
pathies are French." 

The officer shrugged his shoulders with a smile. 

" That is a great misfortune. Perhaps when you 



IN THE TRAP 123 

see how our army fights, we may claim some of your 
sympathy — or, at least, your admiration." 

" It will fight well, then?" 

" It will fight so well — it will prove so irresist- 
ible — ^that our General Staff has been able to pre- 
pare in advance the schedule for the entire cam- 
paign. This is the first of August. On the fifth we 
shall capture Lille, on the ninth we shall cross the 
Marne, and on the eleventh we shall enter Paris. 
On the evening of the twelfth, the Emperor will dine 
the General Staff at the Ritz." 

Stewart stared in astonishment, not knowing 
whether to laugh or to be impressed. But there was 
no shadow of a smile on the bearded face of the 
speaker. 

" You are not in earnest ! " Stewart protested. 

" Thoroughly in earnest. We know where we 
shall be at every hour of every day. There are at 
present living in France many Germans who are 
reservists in our army. Not one of these has been 
required to return to Germany. On the contrary, 
each of them has been instructed to report at a point 
near his place of residence at a certain hour of a 
certain day, where he will find his regiment await- 
ing him. For example, all German reservists living 
at Lille, or in the neighborhood, will report at noon 



124 LITTLE COMRADE 

of Wednesday next in the Place de la Republique in 
front of the prefecture, where the German adminis- 
tration will have been installed during the morning." 

Stewart opened his lips to say something, but no 
words came. He felt intimidated and overborne. 

But it was not at Stewart the officer was looking 
so triumphantly, it was at the girl. Perhaps he also, 
yielding to a subtle fascination, was telling things he 
had no right to tell in order to prove his impor- 
tance ! 

The girl returned his gaze with a look of aston- 
ishment and admiration. 

" How wonderful ! " she breathed. " And it is 
really true ? " 

" True in every detail, madame." 

" But this Lille of which you have spoken — is it 
a fortress ? " 

" A great fortress, madame." 

"Will it not resist?" 

" Not for long — perhaps not at all. H it does re- 
sist, it will fall like a house of cards. The whole 
world will be astonished, madame, when it learns 
the details of that action. We have a great surprise 
in store for our enemies ! " 

Stewart, glancing at his companion, noted with 
alarm the flash of excitement in her eyes. Would 



IN THE TRAP 125 

she push her questioning too far — would she be in- 
discreet; but the next instant he was reassured. 

" It is most fascinating, — this puzzle ! " she 
laughed. " I shall watch the papers for the fall of 
Lille. But I am very ignorant — I do not even know 
where Lille is." 

" It is in the northwest corner of France, ma- 
dame, just south of the Belgian frontier." 

The girl looked at him perplexedly. 

" But how can you reach it," she asked, slowly, 
" without crossing Belgium ? " 

" We cannot reach it without crossing Belgium." 

From the expression of her face, she might have 
been a child shyly interrogating an indulgent senior. 

" I know I am stupid," she faltered, " but it seems 
to me I have read somewhere — ^perhaps in Baedeker 
— that all the Powers had agreed that Belgium 
should always be a neutral country." 

" So they did — Germany as well as the others. 
But such agreements are mere scraps of paper. 
The first blast of war blows them away. France 
has built along her eastern border a great chain of 
forts which are almost impregnable. Therefore it 
is necessary for us to strike her from the north 
through Belgium. Regretfully, but none the less 
firmly, we have warned Belgium to stand aside." 



126 LITTLE COMRADE 

"Will she stand aside?" 

The officer shrugged his shoulders. 

" She must, or risk annihilation. She will not 
dare oppose us. If she does, we shall crush her into 
the dust. She will belong to us, and we will take 
her. Moreover, we shall not repeat the mistake we 
made in Alsace-Lorraine. There will be no treason 
in Belgium 1 " 

Stewart felt a little shiver of disgust sweep over 
him. So this was the German attitude — ^treaties, 
solemn agreements, these were merely " scraps of 
paper " not worth a second thought; a small nation 
had no rights worth considering, since it lacked the 
power to defend them. Should it try to do so, it 
would " risk annihilation ! " 

He did not feel that he could trust himself to talk 
any longer, and rose suddenly to his feet. 

" What are we going to do to-night? " he asked. 
" Not sit here in this shed, surely ! " 

" Certainly not," and the officer rose too. " I 
have secured a lodging for you with the woman who 
searched Madame. You will find it clean and com- 
fortable, though by no means luxurious." 

" That is very kind of you," said Stewart, with 
a memory of the rabble he had seen crowded into the 
waiting-room. And then he looked at his luggage. 



IN THE TRAP 127 

" I hope it isn't far," he added. " I've carried those 
bags about a thousand miles to-day." 

" It is but a step — but I will have a man carry 
your bags. Here is your passport, sir, and again 
permit me to assure you of my regret. You also, 
madame ! " and he bowed ceremoniously above her 
fingers. 

Three minutes later, Stewart and his companion 
were walking down the platform beside the pleasant- 
faced woman, who babbled away amiably in Ger- 
man, while a porter followed with the bags. As 
they passed the station, they could see that it was still 
jammed with a motley crowd, while a guard of sol- 
diers thrown around it prevented anyone leaving or 
entering. 

" How fortunate that we have escaped that ! " said 
Stewart. " Even at the price of being searched ! " 

" This way, sir," said the woman, in German, and 
motioned off into the darkness to the right. 

They made their way across a net-work of tracks, 
which seemed to Stewart strangely complicated and 
extensive for a small* frontier station, and then 
emerged into a narrow, crooked street, bordered by 
mean little houses. In front of one of these the 
woman stopped and unlocked the door with an enor- 
mous key. The porter set the bags inside, received 



128 LITTLE COMRADE 

his tip, and withdrew, while their hostess struck a 
match and lighted a candle, disclosing a narrow hall 
running from the front door back through the house. 

" You will sleep here, sir," she said, and opened 
a door to the left. 

They stepped through, in obedience to her gesture, 
and found themselves in a fair-sized room, poorly 
furnished and a little musty from disuse, but evi- 
dently clean. Their hostess hastened to open the 
window and to light another candle. Then she 
brought in Stewart's bags. 

" You will find water there," and she pointed to 
the pitcher on the wash-stand. " I cannot give you 
hot water to-night — ^there is no fire. Will these 
towels be sufficient ? Yes ? Is there anything else ? 
No? Then good-night, sir, and you also, my 
lady." 

" Good-night," they answered ; and for a moment 
after the door closed, stood staring at it as though 
hypnotized. 

Then the girl stepped to the window and pulled 
together the curtains of white cotton. As she 
turned back into the room, Stewart saw that her 
face was livid. 

His eyes asked the question which he did not dare 
speak aloud. 



IN THE TRAP 129 

She drew him back into the corner and put her 
lips close against his ear. 

" There is a guard outside," she whispered. " We 
must be very careful. We are prisoners still." 

As Stewart stood staring, she took off her hat and 
tossed it on a chair. 

" How tired I am ! " she said, yawning heavily, 
and turning back to the window, she began to take 
down her hair. 



CHAPTER VIII 
PRESTO! CHANGE! 

The vision of that dark hair rippling down as she 
drew out pin after pin held Stewart entranced. And 
the curve of her uplifted arms was also a thing to be 
remembered ! But what was it she proposed to do ? 
Surely 

"If you are going to wash, you would better do it. 
Tommy," she said, calmly. " I shall be wanting to 
in a minute." 

Mechanically, Stewart slipped out of his coat, 
undid his tie, took off his collar, pulled up his sleeves, 
and fell to. He was obsessed by a feeling of un- 
reality which even the cold water did not dissipate. 
It couldn't be true — all this 

" I wish you would hurry. Tommy," said a voice 
behind him. " I am waiting for you to unhook my 
bodice." 

Stewart started round as though stung by an 

adder. His companion's hair fell in beautiful dark 

waves about her shoulders, and he could see that her 

bodice was loosened. 

130 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 131 

"There are two hooks I cannot reach," she ex- 
plained, in the most matter-of-fact tone. " I should 
think you would know that by this time ! " 

" Oh, so it's that bodice ! " said Stewart, and dried 
his hands vigorously, resolved to play the game to 
the end, whatever it might be. " All right," and as 
she turned her back toward him, he began gingerly 
searching for the hooks. 

" Come a little this way," she said; " you can see 
better," and, glancing up, Stewart suddenly under- 
stood. 

They were standing so that their shadows fell 
upon the curtain. The comedy was being played for 
the benefit of the guard in the street outside. 

The discovery that it was a comedy gave him back 
all his aplomb, and he found the hooks and disen- 
gaged them with a dexterity which no real husband 
could have improved upon. 

" There," he said ; " though why any woman 
should wear a gown so fashioned that she can neither 
dress nor undress herself passes my comprehension. 
Why not put the hooks in front ? " 

" And spoil the effect ? Impossible ! The hooks 
must be in the back," and still standing before the 
window, she slowly drew her bodice ofif. 

Stewart had seen the arms of many women, but 



132 LITTLE COMRADE 

never a pair so rounded and graceful and beautiful 
as those at this moment disclosed to him. Ad- 
mirable too was the way in which the head was 
set upon the lovely neck, and the way the neck 
itself merged into the shoulders — the masterpiece 
of a great artist, so he told himself. 

" I wonder if there is a shutter to that window? " 
she asked, suddenly, starting round toward it. "If 
there is, you would better close it. Somebody might 
pass — ^besides, I do not care to sleep on the ground- 
floor of a strange house in a strange town, with an 
open window overlooking the street ! " 

" I'll see," said Stewart, and pulling back the cur- 
tains, stuck out his head. " Yes — there's a shutter — 
a heavy wooden one." He pulled it shut and pushed 
its bolt into place. " There; now you're safe! " 

She motioned him quickly to lower the window, 
and this he did as noiselessly as possible. 

" Was there anyone outside? " she asked, in a low 
tone. 

He shook his head. The narrow street upon 
which the window opened had seemed quite deserted 
— but the shadows were very deep. 

" I wish you would open the bags," she said, in her 
natural voice. " I shall have to improvise a night- 
dress of some sort." 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 133 

Although he knew quite well that the words had 
been uttered for foreign consumption, as it were, 
Stewart found that his fingers were trembling as he 
undid the straps and threw back the lids, for he was 
quite unable to guess what would be the end of this 
strange adventure or to what desperate straits they 
might be driven by the pressure of circumstance. 

" There you are," he said, and sat down and 
watched her. 

She knelt on the floor beside the bags and turned 
over their contents thoughtfully, laying to one side 
a soft outing shirt, a traveling cap, a lounging coat, 
a pipe and pouch of tobacco, a handful of cigars, a 
pair of trousers, a belt, three handkerchiefs, a pair 
of scissors. She paused for a long time over a pair 
of Stewart's shoes, but finally put them back with a 
shake of the head. 

" No," said Stewart, " I agree with you. Shoes 
are not necessary to a sleeping costume. But then 
neither is a pipe." 

She laughed. 

" You will find that the pipe is very necessary," 
she said, and rising briskly, stepped to the wash- 
stand and gave face and hands and arms a scrubbing 
so vigorous that she emerged, as it seemed to Stew- 
art, more radiant than ever. Then she glanced into 



134 LITTLE COMRADE 

the pitcher with an exclamation of dismay. " There ! 
I have used all the water! I wonder if our land- 
lady has gone to bed ? " 

Catching up the pitcher, she crossed rapidly to 
the door and opened it. There was no one there, 
and Stewart, following with the candle, saw that 
the hall was empty. They stood for a moment 
listening, but not a sound disturbed the stillness of 
the house. 

The girl motioned him back into the room and 
closed the door softly. Then, replacing the pitcher 
gently, she caught up a pile of Stewart's socks and 
stuflfed them tightly under the door. Finally she set a 
chair snugly against it — for there was no lock — ^and 
turned to Stewart with a little sigh of relief. 

" There," she said in a low tone ; " no one can 
see our light nor overhear us, if we are careful. 
Perhaps they really do not suspect us — ^but we must 
take no chances. What hour have you? " 

Stewart glanced at his watch. 

" It is almost midnight." 

" There is no time to lose. We must make our 
plans. Sit here beside me," and she sat down in 
one corner against the wall. " We must not waste 
our candle," she added. " Bring it with you, and we 
will blow it out until we need it agsun." 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 135 

Stewart sat down beside her, placed the candle on 
the floor and leaned forward and blew it out. 

For a moment they sat so, quite still, then Stewart 
felt a hand touch his. He seized it and held it 
dose. 

" I am very unhappy, my friend," she said, softly, 
" to have involved you in all this." 

" Why, I am having the time of my life I " Stewart 
protested. 

" If I had foreseen what was to happen," she went 
on, " I should never have asked you to assist me. I 
would have found some other way." 

" The deuce you would ! Then I'm glad you didn't 
foresee it." 

" It is good of you to say so ; but you must not in- 
volve yourself further." 

" What do you mean by that? " 

" I am in great danger. It is absolutely neces- 
sary that I escape. I cannot remain till morning. 
I cannot face that inspection. I should be de- 
nounced." 

" Yes," agreed Stewart; "that's clear enough." 

" Well, I will escape alone. When the police come 
for us, they will find only you." 

" And will probably back me against a wall and 
shoot me out of hand." 



136 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Oh, no ; they will be rough and angry, but they 
will not dare to harm you. They know that you 
are an American — ^they cannot possibly suspect you 
of being a spy. You can prove the truth of all your 
statements." 

" Not quite all," Stewart corrected. 

"Of your statements, at least, so far as they con- 
cern yourself." 

" Yes — ^but I will have considerable difficulty ex- 
plaining my connection with you." 

" Oh, no," said the girl, in a low voice; " that can 
be easily explained." 

"How?" 

" You will say," she answered, her voice lower 
still, "that you met me at the Kolner Hof, that I 
made advances, that you found me attractive, 
and that I readily agreed to accompany you 
to Paris. You can say that it was I who sug- 
gested altering your passport — that you saw 
no harm in it — and that you knew absolutely 
nothing about me except that I was a — a loose 



woman." 



Stewart's lips were trembling so that it was a 
moment before he could control his voice. 

" And do you really think I would say that, little 
comrade ? " he asked, hoarsely. " Do you really 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 137 

think anything on earth could compel me to say 
that!" 

He heard the quick intake of her breath ; then she 
raised his hand to her cheek and he felt the hot tears 
upon it. 

" Don't you understand," he went on earnestly, 
" that we are in this together to the end — the very 
end ? I know I'm not of much use, but I am not such 
a coward as you seem to think me, and " 

She stopped him with a quick pressure of the 
fingers. 

" Don't ! " she breathed. " You are cruel ! " 

" Not half so cruel as you were a moment ago," 
he retorted. 

" Forgive me, my friend," she pleaded, and moved 
a little nearer. " I did not know — I am but a girl — 
I thought perhaps you would wish to be rid of 
me. 

" I don't want ever to be rid of you," began Stew- 
art, brokenly, drawing her closer. " I don't want 
ever " 

She yielded for an instant to his arm; for the 
fraction of an instant her head was upon his breast ; 
then she drew herself away, and silenced him with a 
tap upon the lips. 

"Not now!" she said, and her voice, too, was 



138 LITTLE COMRADE 

hoarse. " All we must think of now is to escape. 
. Afterwards, perhaps " 

" I shall hold you to that ! " said Stewart, and re- 
leased her. 

But again for an instant she bent close. 

" You are a good man ! " she whispered. 

" Oh, no ! " Stewart protested, though he was 
shaken by the words. " No better than the aver- 
age!" 

And then he suddenly found himself unable to go 
on, and there was a moment's silence. When he 
spoke again, he had regained his self-control. 

" Have you a plan? " he asked. 

" Yes," she said, and drew a quick breath, as of 
one shaking away some weakness. " The first part is 
that you should sit quite still until I tell you to 
light the candle." 

" But what " 

" A good soldier does not ask questions." 

" All right, general," said Stewart, and settled 
back against the wall, completely, ineflfably happy. 
Never before, he told himself, had he known what 
happiness was; never before had the mere joy of 
living surged through his veins as it was doing now. 
Little comrade! But what was she doing? 

He could hear her moving softly about the room ; 



PRESTO! CHANGE I 139 

he could hear the rustle of what he took to be the 
bed-clothes; then the bed creaked as she sat down 
upon it. What was she doing? Why should she 
work in the dark, alone, without asking him to 
help? Was it because he could not help — ^was of 
so little use 

" You may light the candle now, my friend," she 
said, in a low voice. 

Stewart had a match ready — had had it ready for 
long minutes ! — ^and in a trice the wick was alight 
and the flame shot up clear and steady. 

After one glance, he sprang in amazement to his 
feet, for there before him stood a youth — the hand- 
somest he had ever seen — Peter Pan come to earth 
again! — his hand at the visor of his traveling-cap 
in mock salute. 

" Well ! " said Stewart, after a moment of amazed 
and delighted silence. " I believe you are a witch ! 
Let me look at you ! " and he caught up the candle 
and held it above his head. 

The face upturned to his flamed crimson at the 
wonder and admiration in his eyes, but the dimple 
was sparkling at the corner of her mouth as she 
turned obediently before him and stepped slowly 
across the room. There is at the heart of every 
woman, however virginal and innocent, a subtle de- 



I40 LITTLE COMRADE 

light in knowing that men find her beautiful, and 
there could be no question of what Stewart thought 
at this moment. 

At last she came to a stop facing him. 

" Well ? " she asked. " Will I do ? " 

" Will you do? " Stewart echoed, and Meredith's 
phrase recurred to him — " an imp in porcelain " — 
how perfectly it described her ! " You are entirely, 
absolutely, impeccably — oh, I haven't adjectives 
enough! Only I wish I had a hundred candles in- 
stead of one ! " 

" But the clothes," she said, and looked doubt- 
fully down at them. " Do I look like a boy ? " 

" Not in the least ! " he answered, promptly. 

Her face fell. 

" But then " 

" Perhaps it is just because I know you're not 
one," he reassured her. " Let me see if I can improve 
matters. The trousers are too large, especially 
about the waist. They seem in danger of — ^hum ! " 
and indeed she was clutching them desperately with 
one hand. "We will make another hole in that 
belt about three inches back," and he got out his 
knife and suited the action to the word. " There — 
that's better — ^you can let go of them now! And 
we'll turn up the legs about four inches — no, we'd 



PRESTO! CHANGE 1 141 

better cut them off." He set the candle on the 
floor, picked up the scissors, and carefully trimmed 
each leg. " But those feet are ridiculous," he added, 
severely. " No real boy ever had feet like that ! " 

She stared down at them ruefully. 

" They will seem larger when I get them full 
of mud," she pointed out. " I thought of putting 
on a pair of your shoes, but gave it up, for I am 
afraid I could not travel very far in them. For- 
tunately these are very strong!" 

He sniffed skeptically, but had to agree with her 
that his shoes were impossible. 

" There is one thing more," and she lifted her 
cap and let her tucked-up hair fall about her shoul- 
ders. " This must be cut off." 

" Oh, no," protested Stewart, drawing back in 
horror. " That would be desecration — why, it's 
the most beautiful hair in the world ! " 

" Nonsense ! In any case, it will grow again." 

" Why not just tie it up under your cap ? " 

But she shook her head. 

" No — it must come off. I might lose the cap — 
you see it is too large — and my hair would betray 
us. Cut it off, my friend — ^be quick." 

She was right, of course, and Stewart, with a 
heavy heart, snipped away the long tresses. Then 



142 LITTLE COMRADE 

he trimmed the hair as well as he was able — which 
was very badly indeed. Finally he parted it rak- 
ishly on one side — and only by a supreme effort 
restrained himself from taking her in his arms and 
kissing her. 

" Really," he said, " you're so ridiculously lovely 
that I'm in great danger of violating our treaty. I 
warn you it is extremely dangerous to look at me 
like that!" 

She lowered her eyes instantly, but she could not 
restrain the dimple. Luckily, in the shadow, Stew- 
art did not see it. 

" We must make my clothing into a bundle," she 
said, sedately. " I may need it again. Besides, 
these people must not suspect that I have gone 
away disguised like this. That will give us a great 
advantage. Yes, gather up the hair and we 
will take it too — it would betray us. Put the 
cigars in your pocket. I will take the pipe and 
tobacco." 

" Do you expect to smoke? I warn you that that 
pipe is a seasoned one ! " 

" I may risk a puff or two. I have been told there 
is no passport like a pipe of tobacco. No — do not 
shut the bags. Leave them open as though we had 
fled hurriedly. And," she added, crimsoning a little, 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 143 

"I think it would be well to disarrange the 
bed." 

Stewart flung back the covers and rolled upon it, 
while his companion cast a last look about the room. 
Then she picked up her little bag and took out the 
purse and the two letters. 

" Which pocket of a man's clothes is safest ? " she 
asked. 

"The inside coat pocket. There are two inside 
pockets in the coat you have on. One of them has 
a flap which buttons down. Nothing could get out 
of it." 

She took the coins from the purse, dropped them 
into the pocket, and replaced the purse in the bag. 
Then she started to place the letters in the pocket, 
but hesitated, looking at him searchingly, her lips 
compressed. 

" My friend," she said, coming suddenly close to 
him and speaking in the merest breath, " I am going 
to trust you with a great secret. The information 
I carry is in these letters — apparently so innocent. 
If anything should happen to me " 

" Nothing is going to happen to you," broke in 
Stewart, roughly. " That is what I am for! " 

" I know — and yet something may. If anything 
should, promise me that you will take these letters 



144 LITTLE COMRADE 

from my pocket, and by every means in your power, 
seek to place them in the hands of General Joflfre." 

" General Joflfre ? " repeated Stewart. " Who is 
he?" 

" He is the French commander-in-chief." 

" But what chance would I have of reaching him? 
I should merely be laughed at if I asked to see him ! " 

" Not if you asked in the right way," and again 
she hesitated. Then she pressed still closer. 
" Listen — I have no right to tell you what I am 
about to tell you, and yet I must. Do you remember 
at Aix, I looked at you like this ? " and she caught 
her lower lip for an instant between the thumb and 
little finger of her left hand. 

" Yes, I remember ; and you burst into tears im- 
mediately afterward." 

" That was because you did not understand. If, 
in answer, you had passed your left hand across your 
eyes, I should have said, in French, * Have we not 
met before? ' and if you had replied, ' In Berlin, on 
the twenty-second,' I should have known that you 
were one of ours. Those passwords will take you 
to General Joflfre himself." 

" Let us repeat them," Stewart suggested. In a 
moment he knew them thoroughly. " And that's all 
right ! " he said. 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 145 

"You consent, then?" she asked, eagerly. 

" To assist you in every way possible — yes." 

" To leave me, if I am not able to go on; to take 
the letters and press on alone," she insisted, her eyes 
shining. " Promise me, my friend ! " 

" I shall have to be governed by circumstances," 
said Stewart, cautiously. "If that seems the best 
thing to do — why, I'll do it, of course. But I warn 
you that this enterprise would soon go to pieces if it 
had no better wits than mine back of it. Why, in the 
few minutes they were searching you back there at 
the station, I walked straight into a trap — and with 
my eyes wide open, too — at the very moment when 
I was proudly thinking what a clever fellow I 
was!" 

"What was the trap?" she asked, quickly. 

" I was talking to that officer, and babbled out the 
story of how I came to go to the Kolner Hof, and 
he seemed surprised that a member of the police 
should have recommended it — which seems strange 
to me, too," he added, " now that I think of it. 
Then he asked me suddenly how you knew I was 
there." 

" Yes, yes ; and what did you say ? " 

" I didn't say anything for a minute — I felt as 
though I were falling out of a airship. But after 



146 LITTLE COMRADE 

I had fallen about a mile, I managed to say that I 
had sent you a telegram and also a postcard." 

" How lucky ! " breathed the girl. " How shrewd 
of you!" 

"Shrewd? Was it? But that shock was nothing 
to the jolt I got the next minute when he told me 
that you had brought the postcard along in your 
bag! It was a good thing you came in just then, 
or he would have seen by the way I sat there gaping 
at him that the whole story was a lie ! " 

" I should have told you of the postcard," she said, 
with a gesture of annoyance. " It is often just some 
such tiny oversight which wrecks a whole plan. One 
tries to foresee everything — to provide for every- 
thing — and then some little, little detail goes wrong, 
and the whole structure comes tumbling down. It 
was chance that saved us — ^but in affairs of this sort, 
nothing must be left to chance I If we had failed, it 
would have been my fault ! " 

" But how could there have been a postcard? " de- 
manded Stewart. " I should like to see it." 

Smiling, yet with a certain look of anxiety, she 
stepped to her bag, took out the postcard, and 
handed it to him. On one side was a picture of the 
cathedral at Cologne; on the other, the address and 
the message : 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 147 

Cologne, July 31, 1914. 
Dear Mary — 

Do not forget that it is to-morrow, Saturday, you 
are to meet me at Aix-la-Chapelle, from where we 
will go on to Brussels together, as we have planned. 
If I should fail to meet you at the train, you will find 
me at a hotel called the Kolner Hof, not far from 
the station. 

With much love, 

Bradford Stewart. 

Stewart read this remarkable message with aston- 
ished eyes, then, holding the card close to the candle, 
he stared at it in bewilderment. 

" But it is my handwriting! " he protested. " At 
least, a fairly good imitation of it — and the signa- 
ture is mine to a dot." 

" Your signature was all the writer had," she 
explained. " Your handwriting had to be inferred 
from that." 

" Where did you get my signature ? Oh, from 
the blank I filled up at Aix, I suppose. But no," 
and he looked at the card again, " the postmark 
shows that it was mailed at Cologne last night." 

" The postmark is a fabrication." 

" Then it was from the blank at Aix? " 

" No," she said, and hesitated, an anxiety in her 
face he did not understand. 

"Then where did you get it?" he persisted. 
"Why shouldn't you tell me?" 



148 LITTLE COMRADE 

" I will tell you," she answered, but her voice was 
almost inaudible. " It is right that you should 
know. You gave the signature to the man who 
examined your passport on the terrace of the Hotel 
Continental at Cologne, and who recommended 
you to the Kolner Hof. He also was one of 
ours." 

Stewart was looking at her steadily. 

"Then in that case," he said, and his face was 
gray and stern, " it was I, and no one else, you ex- 
pected to meet at the Kolner Hof." 

" Yes," she answered with trembling lips, but 
meeting his gaze unwaveringly. 

" And all that followed — the tears, the dismay — 
was make-believe ? " 

" Yes. I cannot lie to you, my friend." 

Stewart passed an unsteady hand before his eyes. 
It seemed that something had suddenly burst within 
him — some dream, some vision 

" So I was deliberately used," he began, hoarsely ; 
but she stopped him, her hand upon his arm. 

" Do not speak in that tone," she pleaded, her face 
wrung' with anguish. " Do not look at me like that 
— I did not know— I had never seen you — it was not 
my plan. We were face to face with failure — we 
were desperate — ^there seemed no other way." She 



PRESTO! CHANGE! 149 

stopped, shuddering slightly, and drew away from 
him. " At least, you will say good-by," she said, 
softly. 

Dazedly Stewart looked at her — at her eyes dark 
with sadness, at her face suddenly so white 

She was standing near the window, her hand 
upon the curtain. 

" Good-by, my friend," she repeated. " You have 
been very good to me ! " 

For an instant longer, Stewart stood staring — ^then 
he sprang at her, seized her 

" Do you mean that you are going to leave me? " 
he demanded, roughly. 

" Surely that is what you wish ! " 

" What I wish ? No, no I What do I care — what 
does it matter ! " The words were pouring inco- 
herently from his trembling lips. " I understand — 
you were desperate — you didn't know me; even if 
you had, it would make no difference. Don't you 
understand — nothing can make any difference 
now! " 

She shivered a little; then she drew away, look- 
ing at him. 

"You mean," she stammered; "you mean that 
you still — ^that you still " 

" Little comrade ! " he said, and held out his arms. 



I50 LITTLE COMRADE 

She lifted her eyes to his — wavered toward 
him 



" Halt ! " cried a voice outside the window, and 
an instant later there came a heavy hammering on 
the street door. 



CHAPTER IX 
THE FRONTIER 

The knocking seemed to shake the house, so violent 
it was, so insistent; and Stewart, petrified, stood 
staring numbly. But his companion was quicker 
than he. In an instant she had run to the light and 
blown it out. Then she was back at his side. 

" The moment they are in the house," she said, 
" raise the window as silently as you can and unbolt 
the shutter." 

And then she was gone again, and he could hear 
her moving about near the door. 

Again the knocking came, louder than before. It 
could mean only one thing, Stewart told himself — 
their ruse had been discovered — a party of soldiers 
had come to arrest them 

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 — ^ — ■ 

151 



152 LITTLE COMRADE 

He heard shuffling footsteps approach along the 
hall, and a glimmer of light showed beneath the 
door. For an instant Stewart stared at it uncom- 
prehending — ^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 Strassburg," 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. 



THE FRONTIER 153 

" fes. 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 ofificer, 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 ex- 



154 LITTLE COMRADE 

plained with a smile. " You will present my apol- 
ogies 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 talk- 
ing 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 with- 
draw. " 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 com- 
rade ! " 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 



THE FRONTIER 155 

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 im- 
patiently. " 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 vio- 
lently. 

" 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 



156 LITTLE COMRADE 

somewhat, and by a desperate effort of will he man- 
aged to walk without stumbling; but he was still 
deadly tired. He knew that he was suffering from 
the reaction from the manifold adventures and ex- 
citements 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 endur- 
ance 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 passed 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 him- 
self 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 



THE FRONTIER 157 

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, look- 
ing 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. 

" So the frontier is to our left. Come." 

She released his hand, leaped the ditch at the side 
of the road, and set ofif westward across a rough 
field. Stewart stumbled heavily after her ; but pres- 
ently his extreme exhaustion passed, and was fol- 
lowed by a sort of nervous exhilaration which en- 
abled him easily to keep up with her. They climbed 
a wall, struggled through a strip of woodland — 



158 LITTLE COMRADE 

Stewart had never before realized how difficult it is 
to go through woods at night! — passed close to a 
house where a barking dog sent panic terror through 
them, and came at last to a road running westward, 
toward Belgium and safety. Along this they 
hastened as rapidly as they could. 

" We must be past the frontier," said Stewart, 
half an hour later. " We have come at least two 
miles." 

" Let us be sure," gasped the girl. " Let us take 
no chance ! " and she pressed on. 

Stewart reflected uneasily that they had en- 
countered no outposts, and surely there would be 
outposts at the frontier to maintain its neutrality and 
intercept stragglers ; but perhaps that would be only 
on the main-traveled roads ; or perhaps the outposts 
were not yet in place ; or perhaps they might run into 
one at any moment. He looked forward apprehen- 
sively, but the road lay white and empty under the 
stars. 

Suddenly the girl stumbled and nearly fell. His 
arm was about her in an instant. He could feel how 
her body drooped against him in utter weariness. 
She had reached the end of her strength. 

" Come," he said; " we must rest," and he led her 
unresisting to the side of the road. 



THE FRONTIER 159 

They sat down close together with their backs 
against the wall, and her head for an instant fell 
upon his shoulder. By a supreme eflort, she roused 
herself. 

" We cannot stay here ! " she protested. 

" No," Stewart agreed. " Do you think you can 
climb this wall? We may find cover on the other 
side." 

"Of course I can," and she tried to rise, but 
Stewart had to assist her. " I do not know what is 
the matter," she panted, as she clung to him. " I 
can scarcely stand ! " 

" It's the reaction," said Stewart. " It was bound 
to come, sooner or later. I had my attack back there 
on the road. Now I am going to lift you on top of 
the wall." 

She threw one leg over it and sat astride. 

" Oh, I have dropped the bundle," she said. 

" Have you been carrying it all this time ? " 
Stewart demanded. 

" Why, of course. It weighs nothing." 

Stewart, groping angrily along the base of the 
wall, found it, tucked it under his arm, scrambled 
over, and lifted her down. 

" Now, forward ! " he said. 

At the second step, they ^ere in a field of grain as 



i6o LITTLE COMRADE 

high as their waists. They could feel it brushing 
against them, twining about their ankles; they could 
glimpse its yellow expanse stretching away into the 
night. 

" Splendid ! " cried Stewart. " There could be no 
better cover ! " and he led her forward into it. 
" Now," he added, at the end of five minutes, " stand 
where you are till I get things ready for you," and 
with his knife he cut down great handfuls of the 
grain and piled them upon the ground. " There's 
your bed," he said, placing the bundle of clothing at 
one end of it; " and there's your pillow." 

She sat down with a sigh of relief. 

"Oh, how heavenly!" 

" You can go to sleep without fear. No one can 
discover us here, unless they stumble right over us. 
Good-night, little comrade." 

"But you?" 

" Oh, I am going to sleep, too. I'll make myself a 
bed just over here." 

" Good-night, my friend ! " she said, softly, and 
Stewart, looking down at her, catching the starry 
sheen of her uplifted eyes, felt a wild desire to fling 
himself beside her, to take her in his arms 

Resolutely he turned away and piled his own bed 
at a little distance. It would have been safer, per- 



THE FRONTIER i6i 

haps, had they slept side by side; but there was 
about her something delicate and virginal which kept 
him at a distance — and yet held him too, bound him 
powerfully, led him captive. 

He was filled with the thought of her, as he lay 
gazing up into the spangled heavens — her beauty, 
her fire, her indomitable youth, her clear-eyed inno- 
cence which left him reverent and trembling. What 
was her story? Where were her people that they 
should permit her to take such desperate risks? 
Why had this great mission been confided to her — to 
a girl, young, inexperienced? And yet, the choice 
had evidently been a wise one. She had proved her- 
self worthy of the trust. No one could have been 
quicker-witted, more ready of resource. 

Well, the worst of it was over. They were safe 
out of Germany. It was only a questiorr now of 
reaching a farmhouse, of hiring a wagon, of driving 
to the nearest station 

He stirred uneasily. That would mean good-by. 
But why should he go to Brussels? Why not turn 
south with her to France? 

Sleep came to him as he was asking himself this 
question for the twentieth time. 

It was full day when he awoke. He looked about 
for a full minute at the yellow grain, heavy-headed 



1 62 LITTLE COMRADE 

and ready for the harvest, before he remembered 
where he was. Then he rubbed his eyes and looked 
again — the wheat-field, certainly — ^that was all right ; 
but what was that insistent murmur which filled his 
ears, which never ceased? He sat hastily erect and 
started to his feet — then as hastily dropped to his 
knees again and peered cautiously above the grain. 

Along the road, as far in either direction as the 
eye could see, passed a mighty multitude, marching 
steadily westward. Stewart's heart beat faster as 
he ran his eyes over that great host — thousands and 
tens of thousands, clad in greenish-gray, each with 
his rifle and blanket-roll, his full equipment com- 
plete to the smallest detail — the German army set- 
ting forth to war! Oh, wonderful, astounding, 
stupendous ! — a myriad of men, moving as one man, 
obeying one man's bidding, marching out to kill and 
to be killed. 

And marching willingly, even eagerly. The 
bright morning, the sense of high adventure, the ex- 
hilaration of marching elbow to elbow with a thou- 
sand comrades — ^yes, and love of country, the 
thought that they were fighting for their Fatherland 
— all these uplifted the heart and made the eye 
sparkle. Forgotten for the moment were poignant 
farewells, the tears of women and of children. The 



THE FRONTIER 163 

round of daily duties, the quiet of the fireside, the 
circle of familiar faces — all that had receded far 
into the past. A new life had begun, a larger and 
more glorious life. They felt that they were men 
going forward to men's work; they were drinking 
deep of a cup brimming with the joy of supreme 
experience ! 

There were jests and loud laughter; there were 
snatches of song; and presently a thousand voices 
were shouting what sounded to Stewart like a 
mighty hymn — shouting it in slow and solemn uni- 
son, marked by the tramp, tramp of their feet. Not 
until he caught the refrain did he know what it 
was — " Deutschland, Deutschland, uber dies!" — 
the German battle-song, fit expression of the firm 
conviction that the Fatherland was first, was dearest, 
must be over all ! And as he looked and listened, he 
felt his own heart thrill responsively, and a 
new definition of patriotism grouped itself in his 
mind. 

Then suddenly he remembered his companion, 
and, parting the wheat, he crawled hastily through 
into the little amphitheater where he had made her 
bed. She was still asleep, her head pillowed on the 
bundle of clothing, one arm above her eyes, shield- 
ing them from the light. He sat softly down be- 



1 64 LITTLE COMRADE 

side her, his heart very tender. She had been so near 
exhaustion ; he must not awaken her 

A blare of bugles shrilled from the road, and 
from far off rose a roar of cheering, sweeping nearer 
and nearer. 

The girl stirred, turned uneasily, opened her eyes, 
stared up at him for a moment, and then sat hastily 
erect. 

"What is it? "she asked. 

" The German army is advancing." 

"Yes — ^but the cheering?" 

" I don't know." 

Side by side, they peered out above the grain. A 
heavy motor-car was advancing rapidly from the 
east along the road, the troops drawing aside 
to let it pass, and cheering — cheering, as though 
mad. 

Inside the car were three men, but the one who ac- 
knowledged the salutes of the officers as he passed 
was a tall, slender young fellow in a long, gray 
coat. His face was radiant, and he saluted and 
saluted, and once or twice rose to his feet and 
pointed westward. 

" The Crown Prince ! " said the girl, and watched 
in heavy silence until the motor passed from sight 
and the host took up its steady march again. " Ah, 



THE FRONTIER 165 

well, he at least has realized his ambition — to lead an 
army against France ! " 

" It seems to be a devoted army," Stewart re- 
marked. " I never heard such cheering." 

" It is a splendid army," and the girl swept her 
eyes back and forth over the marching host. 
" France will have no easy task — but she is fighting 
for her life, and she will win! " 

" I hope so," Stewart agreed ; but his heart mis- 
gave him as he looked at these marching men, 
sweeping on endlessly, irresistibly, in a torrent 
which seemed powerful enough to engulf everything 
in its path. 

He had never before seen an army, even a small 
one, and this mighty host unnerved and intimidated 
him. It was so full of vigor, so self-confident, so 
evidently certain of victory! It was so sturdy, 
so erect, so proud! There was about it an 
electric sense of power; it almost strutted as it 
marched ! 

" There is one thing certain," he said, at last, 
" and that is that our adventures are not yet over. 
With our flight discovered, and Germans in front of 
us and behind us and probably on either side of us, 
our position is still decidedly awkward. I suppose 
their outposts are somewhere ahead." 



1 66 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Yes, I suppose so," she agreed. " Along the 
Meuse, perhaps." 

" And I am most awfully, hungry. Aren't you? " 

" Yes, I am." 

" I have heard that whole wheat makes a delicious 
breakfast dish," said Stewart, who felt unaccount- 
ably down-hearted and was determined not to show 
it. " Shall we try some ? " 

She nodded, smiling, then turned back to watch 
the Germans, as though fascinated by them. Stew- 
art broke off a dozen heads of yellow grain, rubbed 
them out between his hands, blew away the chaff, 
and poured the fat kernels into her outstretched 
palm. Then he rubbed out a mouthful for himself. 

" But that they should invade Belgium ! " she 
said, half to herself. " Did you hear what that man 
said last night — ^that a treaty was only a scrap of 
paper — that if Belgium resisted, she would be 
crushed ? " 

" Yes," nodded Stewart, " and it disgusted me ! " 

" But of course France has expected it — she has 
prepared for it ! " went on the girl, perhaps to silence 
her own misgivings. " She will not be taken by 
surprise ! " 

" You don't think, then, that the Kaiser will dine 
in Paris on the twelfth?" 



THE FRONTIER 167 

" Nonsense — ^that was only an empty boast ! " 

" Well, I hope so," said Stewart. " And wherever 
he dines, I hope that he has something more appetiz- 
ing than whole wheat au naturel. I move we look 
for a house and try to get some real food that we 
can put our teeth into. Also something to drink." 

" Yes, we must be getting forward," she agreed. 

Together they peered out again above the grain. 
The massed column was still passing, shimmering 
along the dusty road like a mighty green-gray ser- 
pent. 

" Isn't there any end to these fellows? " Stewart 
asked. " We must have seen about a million ! " 

" Oh, no ; this is but a single division — and there 
are at least a hundred divisions in the German 
army ! No doubt there is another division on each 
of the roads leading into Belgium. We shall have 
to keep away from the roads. Let us work our way 
back through the grain to that strip of woodland. 
No," she added, as Stewart stooped to pick up the 
bundle of clothing, " we must leave that. If we 
should happen to be stopped, it would betray us. 
What are you doing? " 

Without replying, Stewart opened the bundle, 
thoughtfully selected a strand of the beautiful hair 
inside it and placed the lock carefully in a flapped 



1 68 LITTLE COMRADE 

compartment of his pocket-book. Then he re-tied 
the bundle and threw over it some of the severed 
stalks. 

" It seems a shame to leave it," he said. " That 
is a beautiful gown — and the hair ! Think of those 
barbarians opening the bundle and finding that lovely 
hair!" 

The girl, who had been watching him with bril- 
liant eyes, laughed a little and caught his hand. 

" How foolish ! Come along ! I think I shall let 
you keep that lock of hair ! " she added, thought- 
fully. 

Stewart looked at her quickly and saw that the 
dimple was visible. 

"Thank you!" he said. "Of course I should 
have asked. Forgive me ! " 

She gave him a flashing little smile, then, bending 
low, hurried forward through the grain. Beyond 
the field lay a stretch of woodland, and presently they 
heard the sound of running water, and came to a 
brook flowing gently over a clean and rocky bed. 

With a cry of delight, the girl dropped to her 
knees beside it, bent far over and drank deep ; then 
threw off her coat, pushed her sleeves above her 
elbows, and laved hands and face in the cool water. 

" How fortunate my hair is short ! " she said, con- 



THE FRONTIER 169 

templating her reflection. " Otherwise it would be a 
perfect tangle. I make a very nice boy, do you not 
think so?" 

" An adorable boy ! " agreed Stewart, heartily. 

She glanced up at him. 

" Thank you ! But are you not going to wash ? " 

" Not until you have finished. You are such a 
radiant beauty, that it would be a sin to miss an 
instant of you. My clothes are even more becoming 
to you than your own ! " 

She glanced down over her slender figure, so fine, 
so delicately rounded, then sprang quickly to her feet 
and snatched up the coat. 

" I will reconnoiter our position while you make 
your toilet," she said, and slipped out of sight among 
the trees. 

Ten minutes later, Stewart found her seated on a 
little knoll at the edge of the wood, looking out 
across the country. 

" There is a house over yonder," she said, nod- 
ding, to where the corner of a gable showed among 
the trees. " But it may be dangerous to approach it." 

" We can't starve," he pointed out. " And we 
seem to be lucky. Suppose I go on ahead? " 

"No; we will go together," and she sprang to 
her feet. 



1 70 LITTLE COMRADE 

The way led over a strip of rocky ground, used 
evidently as a pasture, but there were no cattle graz- 
ing on it; then along a narrow lane between low 
stone walls. Presently they reached the house, which 
seemed to be the home of a small farmer, for it 
stood at the back of a yard with stables and sheds 
grouped about it. The gate was open and there was 
no sign of life within. Stewart started to enter, 
but suddenly stopped and looked at his companion. 

" There is something wrong here," he said, al- 
most in a whisper. " I feel it." 

" So do I," said the girl, and stared about at the 
deserted space, shivering slightly. Then she looked 
upward into the clear sky. " It was as if a cloud 
had come between me and the sun," she added. 

" Perhaps it is just that everything seems so 
deserted," said Stewart, and stepped through the 
gate. 

" No doubt the people fled when they saw the Ger- 
mans," she suggested; " or perhaps it was just a 
rumor that frightened them away." 

Stewart looked about him. It was not only peo- 
ple that were missing from this farmyard, he told 
himself; there should have been pigs in the sty, 
chickens scratching in the straw, pigeons on the 
roof, a cat on the door-step. 



THE FRONTIER 171 

" We must have food," he said, and went for- 
ward resolutely to the door, which stood ajar. 

There was something vaguely sinister in the posi- 
tion of the door, half -open and half -closed, but after 
tin instant's hesitation, he knocked loudly. A min- 
ute passed, and another, and there was no response. 
Nerving himself as though for a mighty effort, he 
pushed the door open and looked into the room be- 
yond. 

It was evidently the living-room and dining-room 
combined, and it was in the wildest disorder. Chairs 
were overturned, a table was lying on its side with 
one leg broken, dishes lay smashed upon the floor. 

Summoning all his resolution, Stewart stepped in- 
side. What frightful thing had happened here? 
From the chairs and the dishes, it looked as if the 
family had been surprised at breakfast. But where 
was the family ? Who had surprised them ? What 
had ■ 

And then his heart leaped sickeningly as his eyes 
fell upon a huddled figure lying in one corner, close 
against the wall. It was the body of a woman, her 
clothing disordered, a long, gleaming bread-knife 
clutched tightly in one hand; and as Stewart bent 
above her, he saw that her head had been beaten in. 



CHAPTER X 
FORTUNE FROWNS 

One look at that disfigured countenance imprinted 
it indelibly on Stewart's memory — ^the blue eyes 
staring horribly upward from under the shattered 
forehead, the hair matted with blood, the sprawling 
body, the gleaming knife caught up in what moment 
of desperation ! Shaking with horror, he seized his 
companion's hand and led her away out of the dese- 
crated house, out of the silent yard, out into the nar- 
row lane where they could breathe freely. 

" The Uhlans have passed this way," said the 
girl, staring up and down the road. 

" But," stammered Stewart, wiping his wet fore- 
head, " but I don't understand. Germany is a civi- 
lized nation — war is no longer the brutal thing it 
once was." 

" War is always brutal, I fear," said the girl, 
sadly ; " and of course, among a million men, there 
are certain to be some — ^like that ! I am no longer 
hungry. Let us press on." 

173 



FORTUNE FROWNS 173 

Stewart, nodding, followed along beside her, 
across fields, over little streams, up and down 
stretches of rocky hillside, always westward. But 
he saw nothing; his mind was full of other things — 
of the gray-clad thousands singing as they marched ; 
of the radiant face of the Crown Prince; of that 
poor murdered woman, who had risen happily this 
Sunday morning, glad of a day of rest, and looked 
up to see strange faces at the door 

And this was war. A thousand other women 
would suffer the same fate; thousands and thou- 
sands more would be thrown stripped and defense- 
less on the world, to live or die as chance might 
will; a hundred thousand children would be father- 
less; a hundred thousand girls, now ripening into 
womanhood, would be denied their rightful destiny 
of marriage and children of their own 

Stewart shook the thought away. The picture his 
imagination painted was too horrible ; it could never 
come true — not all the emperors on earth could make 
it come true ! 

He looked about him at the mellow landscape. 
Nowhere was there a sign of life. The yellow wheat 
stood ripe for the harvest. The pastures stretched 
lush and green — ^and empty. Here and there above 
the trees he caught a glimpse of farm-house chim- 



174 LITTLE COMRADE 

neys, but no reassuring smoke floated above them. 
A peaceful land, truly, so he told himself — ^peaceful 
as death ! 

Gradually the country grew rougher and more 
broken, and ahead of them they could see steep and 
rocky hillsides, cleft by deep valleys and covered by a 
thick growth of pine. 

" We must find a road," said Stewart at last; 
" we can't climb up and down those hills. And we 
must find out where we are. There is a certain 
risk, but we must take it. It is foolish to stumble 
forward blindly." 

" You are right," his companion agreed, and when 
presently, far below them at the bottom of a valley, 
they saw a white road winding, they made their way 
down to it. Almost at once they came to a house, in 
whose door stood a buxom, fair-haired woman, with 
a child clinging to her skirts. 

The woman watched them curiously as they ap- 
proached, and her face seemed to Stewart distinctly 
friendly. 

" Good-morning," he said, stopping before the 
door-step and lifting his hat — ^an unaccustomed salu- 
tation at which the woman stared. " We seem to 
have lost our way. Can you tell us " 

The woman shook her head. 



FORTUNE FROWNS 175 

" My brother and I have lost our way," said his 
companion, in rapid French. " We have been 
tramping the hills all morning. How far is it to the 
nearest village ? " 

" The nearest village is Battice," answered the 
woman in the same language. " It is three kilo- 
meters from here." 

" Has it a railway station ? " 

" But certainly. How is it you do not know ? " 

" We come from the other direction." 

" From Germany? " 

" Yes," answered the girl, after an instant's 
scrutiny of the woman's face. 

" Then you are fugitives ? Ah, do not fear to tell 
me," she added, as the girl hesitated. " I have no 
love for the Germans. I have lived near them too 
long!" 

There could be no doubting the sincerity of the 
words, nor the grimace of disgust which accom- 
panied them. 

" Yes," assented the girl, " we are fugitives. We 
are trying to get to Liege. Have the Germans been 
this way ? " 

"No; I have seen nothing of them, but I have 
heard that a great army has passed along the road 
through Verviers." 



176 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Where is your man ? " 

" He has joined the army, as have all the men in 
this neighborhood." 

" The German army ? " 

" Oh, no; the Belgian army. It is doing what it 
can to hold back the Germans." 

The girl's face lighted with enthusiasm. 

" Oh, how splendid ! " she cried. " How splendid 
for your brave little country to defy the invader! 
Bravo, Belgium ! " 

The woman smiled at her enthusiasm, but shook 
her head doubtfully. 

" I do not know," she said, simply. " I do not 
understand these things. I only know that my man 
has gone, and that I must harvest our grain and cut 
our winter wood by myself. But will you not enter 
and rest yourselves? " 

" Thank you. And we are very hungry. We 
have money to pay for food, if you can let us have 
some." 

" Certainly, certainly," and the good wife bustled 
before them into the house. 

An hour later, rested, refreshed, with a supply of 
sandwiches in their pockets, and armed with a rough 
map drawn from the directions of their hostess, they 
were ready to set out westward again. She was of 



FORTUNE FROWNS 177 

the opinion that they could pass safely through Bat- 
tice, which was off the main road of the German 
advance, and that they might even secure there a 
vehicle of some sort to take them onward. The 
trains, she understood, were no longer running. 
Finally they thanked her for the twentieth time 
and bade her good-by. She wished them God- 
speed, and stood watching them from the door until 
they disappeared from view. 

They pushed forward briskly, and presently, hud- 
dled in the valley below them, caught sight of the 
gabled roofs of the village. A bell was ringing 
vigorously, and they could see the people — women 
and children for the most part — gathering in toward 
the little church, crowned by its gilded cross. Evi- 
dently nothing had occurred to disturb the serenity 
of Battice. 

Reassured, the two were about to push on down 
the road, when suddenly, topping the opposite slope, 
they saw a squadron of horsemen, perhaps fifty 
strong. They were clad in greenish-gray, and each 
of them bore upright at his right elbow a long lance. 

" Uhlans ! " cried the girl, and the fugitives 
stopped short, watching with bated breath. 

The troop swung down the road toward the vil- 
lage at a sharp trot, and presently Stewart could 



178 LITTLE COMRADE 

distinguish their queer, flat-topped helmets, remind- 
ing him of the mortar-board of his university days. 
Right at the edge of the village, in the shadow of 
some trees, the horsemen drew rein and waited until 
the bell ceased ringing and the last of the congrega- 
tion had entered the church; then, at the word of 
command, they touched spur to flank and swept 
through the empty street. 

A boy saw them first and raised a shout of alarm ; 
then a woman, hurrying toward the church, heard 
the clatter of hoofs, cast one glance behind her, and 
ran on, screaming wildly. The screams penetrated 
the church, and in a moment the congregation came 
pouring out, only to find themselves hemmed in by 
a semicircle of lowered lances. 

The lieutenant shouted a command, and four of 
his men threw themselves from the saddle and dis- 
appeared into the church. They were back in a mo- 
ment, dragging between them a white-haired priest 
clad in stole and surplice, and a rosy- faced old man, 
who, even in this trying situation, managed to 
retain his dignity. 

The two were placed before the officer, and a short 
conference followed, with the townspeople pressing 
anxiously around, listening to every word. Sud- 
denly there was an outburst of protest and despair, 



FORTUNE FROWNS 179 

which the priest quieted with a motion of his hand, 
and the conference was resumed. 

" What is it the fellow wants ? " asked Stewart. 

" Money and supplies, I suppose." 

" Money and supplies ? But that's robbery ! " 

" Oh, no ; it is a part of the plan of the German 
General Staff. How many times have I heard Prus- 
sian officers boast that a war would cost Germany 
nothing — that her enemies would be made to bear the 
whole burden ! It has all been arranged — ^the in- 
demnity which each village, even the smallest, must 
pay — ^the amount of supplies which each must fur- 
nish, the ransom which will be assessed on each in- 
dividual. This lieutenant of Uhlans is merely 
carrying out his instructions ! " 

"Who is the old man?" 

" The burgomaster, doubtless. He and the priest 
are always the most influential men in a village." 

The conference was waxing warmer, the lieu- 
tenant was talking in a loud voice, and once he shook 
his fist menacingly ; again there was a wail of protest 
from the crowd — women were wringing their 
hands 

" He is demanding more than the village can sup- 
ply," remarked the girl. " That is not surprising," 
she added, with a bitter smile. " They will always 



i8o LITTLE COMRADE 

demand more than can be supplied. But come; we 
must be getting on." 

Stewart would have liked to see the end of the 
drama, but he followed his companion over the wall 
at the side of the road, and then around the village 
and along the rough hillside. Suddenly from the 
houses below arose a hideous tumult — shouts, curses, 
the smashing of glass — ^and in a moment, a flood of 
people, wailing, screaming, shaking their fists in the 
air, burst from the town and swept along the road in 
the direction of Herve. 

" They would better have given all that was de- 
manded," said the girl, looking down at them. 
" Now they will be made to serve as an example to 
other villages — ^they will lose everything — even their 
houses — see ! " 

Following the direction of her pointing finger, 
Stewart saw a black cloud of smoke bulging up from 
one end of the village. 

" But surely," he gasped, " they're not burning it! 
They wouldn't dare do that ! " 

"Why not?" 

"Isn't looting prohibited by the rules of war?" 

" Certainly — looting and the destruction of prop- 
erty of non-combatants." 

" Well, then " 



FORTUNE FROWNS i8i 

But he stopped, staring helplessly. The cloud of 
smoke grew in volume, and below it could be seen 
red tongues of flame. There before him was the 
hideous reality — and he suddenly realized how fu- 
tile it was to make laws for anything so essentially 
lawless as war, or to expect niceties of conduct from 
men thrown back into a state of barbarism. 

" What do the rules of war matter to a nation 
which considers treaties mere scraps of paper?" 
asked the girl, in a hard voice. " Their very pres- 
ence here in Belgium is a violation of the rules of 
war. Besides, it is the German theory that war 
should be ruthless — that the enemy must be intimi- 
dated, ravaged, despoiled in every possible way. 
They say that the more merciless it is, the briefer 
it will be. It is possible that they are not altogether 
wrong." 

" True," muttered Stewart. " But it is a heart- 
less theory." 

" War is a heartless thing," commented his com- 
panion, turning away. " It is best not to think too 
much about it. Come — we must be going on." 

They pushed forward again, keeping the road, 
with its rabble of frenzied fugitives, at their right. 
It was a wild and beautiful country, and under other 
circumstances, Stewart would have gazed in admir- 



1 82 LITTLE COMRADE 

ing wonder at its rugged cliffs, its deep precipitous 
valleys, its thickly-wooded hillsides; but now these 
appeared to him only as so many obstacles between 
him and safety. 

At last the valley opened out, and below them they 
saw the clustered roofs of another village, which 
could only be Herve. Around it were broad pastures 
and fields of yellow grain, and suddenly the girl 
caught Stewart by the arm. 

" Look ! " she said, and pointed to the field lying 
nearest them. 

A number of old men, women, and children were 
cutting the grain, tying it into sheaves, and piling the 
sheaves into stacks, under the supervision of four 
men. Those four men were clothed in greenish-gray 
and carried rifles in their hands ! The invaders were 
stripping the grain from the fields in order to feed 
their army ! 

As he contemplated this scene, Stewart felt, mixed 
with his horror and detestation, a sort of unwilling 
admiration. Evidently, as his companion had said, 
when Germany made war, she made war. She was 
ruthlessly thorough. She allowed no sentiment, no 
feeling of pity, no weakening compassion, to inter- 
fere between her and her goal. She went to war 
with but one purpose: to win; and she was deter- 



FORTUNE FROWNS 183 

mined to win, no matter what the cost! Stewart 
shivered at the thought. Whether she won or lost, 
how awful that cost must be ! 

The fugitives went on again at last, working their 
way around the village, keeping always in the shelter 
of the woods along the hillsides, and after a weary 
journey, came out on the other side above the line 
of the railroad. A sentry, with fixed bayonet, stood 
guard over a solitary engine; except for him, the 
road seemed quite deserted. For half a mile they 
toiled along over the rough hillside above it without 
seeing anyone else. 

" We can't keep this up," said Stewart, flinging 
himself upon the ground. " We shall have to take 
to the road if we are to make any progress. Do you 
think we'd better risk it ? " 

" Let us watch it for a while," the girl suggested, 
so they sat and watched it and munched their sand- 
wiches, and talked in broken snatches. Ten minutes 
passed, but no one came in sight. 

" It seems quite safe," she said at last, and to- 
gether they made their way down to it. 

" The next village is Fleron," said Stewart, con- 
sulting his rough map. " It is apparently about four 
miles from here. Liege is about ten miles further. 
Can we make it to-night ? " 



1 84 LITTLE COMRADE 

" We must ! " said the girl, fiercely. " Come ! " 

The road descended steadily along the valley of a 
pretty river, closed in on either side by densely- 
wooded hills. Here and there among the trees, they 
caught glimpses of white villas; below them, along 
the river, there was an occasional cluster of houses ; 
but they saw few people. Either the inhabitants of 
this land had fled before the enemy, or were keep- 
ing carefully indoors out of his way. 

Once the fugitives had an alarm, for a hand-car, 
manned by a squad of German soldiers, came spin- 
ning past ; but fortunately Stewart heard it singing 
along the rails in time to pull his companion into a 
clump of underbrush. A little later, along the high- 
way by the river, they saw a patrol of Uhlans riding, 
and then they came to Fleron and took to the hills to 
pass around it. Here, too, clouds of black smoke hung 
heavy above certain of the houses, which, for some 
reason, had been made the marks of German re- 
prisals ; and once, above the trees to their right, they 
saw a column of smoke drifting upward, marking 
the destruction of some isolated dwelling. 

The sun was sinking toward the west by the time 
they again reached the railroad, and they were both 
desperately weary; but neither had any thought of 
rest. The shadows deepened rapidly among the hills. 



FORTUNE FROWNS 185 

but the darkness was welcome, for it meant added 
safety. By the time they reached Bois de Breux, 
night had come in earnest, so they made only a short 
detour, and were soon back on the railroad again, 
with scarcely five miles to go. For an hour longer 
they plodded on through the darkness, snatching a 
few minutes' rest once or twice ; too weary to talk, 
or to look to right or left. 

Then, as they turned a bend in the road, they 
drew back in alarm; for just ahead of them, close 
beside the track, a bright fire was burning, lighting 
up the black entrance of a tunnel, before which stood 
a sentry leaning on his rifle. Five or six other 
soldiers, wearing flat fatigue caps, were lolling about 
the fire, smoking and talking in low tones. 

Stewart surveyed them curiously. They were big, 
good-humored-looking fellows, fathers of families 
doubtless — honest men with kindly hearts. It 
seemed absurd to suppose that such men as these 
would loot villages and burn houses and outrage 
women; it seemed absurd that anyone should fear 
them or hide from them. Stewart, with a feeling 
that all this threat of war was a chimera, had an im- 
pulse to go forward boldly and join them beside 
the fire. He was sure they would welcome him, make 
a place for him 



1 86 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Wer da? " called, sharply, a voice behind him, 
and he spun around to find himself facing a leveled 
rifle, behind which he could see dimly the face of a 
man wearing a spiked helmet — a patrol, no doubt, 
who had seen them as they stood carelessly outlined 
against the fire, and who had crept upon them un- 
heard. 

" We are friends," Stewart answered, hastily. 

The soldier motioned them forward to the fire. 
The men there had caught up their rifles at the sound 
of the challenge, and stood peering anxiously out into 
the darkness. But when the two captives came within 
the circle of light cast by the fire, they stacked their 
guns and sat down again. Evidently they saw noth- 
ing threatening in the appearance of either Stewart 
or his companion. 

Their captor added his gun to the stack and mo- 
tioned them to sit down. Then he doffed his heavy 
helmet with evident relief and hung it on his rifle, 
got out a soft cap like the others', and finally sat 
down opposite his prisoners and looked at them 
closely. 

" What are you doing here ? " he demanded in 
German. 

" We are trying to get through to Brussels," an- 
swered Stewart, in the best German he could muster. 



FORTUNE FROWNS 187 

" I have not much German. Do you speak Eng- 
lish?" 

" No. Are you English ? " And the blue eyes 
■glinted with an unfriendly light which Stewart was 
at a loss to understand. 

" We are Americans," and Stewart saw with re- 
lief that the man's face softened perceptibly. On 
the chance that, if the soldier could not speak Eng- 
lish, neither could he read it, he impressively pro- 
duced his passport. " Here is our safe-conduct from 
our Secretary of State," he said. " You will see 
that it is sealed with the seal of the United States. 
My brother and I were passed at Herbesthal, but 
could find no conveyance and started to walk. We 
lost our way, but stumbled upon the railroad some 
miles back and decided to follow it until we came to 
a village. How far away is the nearest village? " 

" I do not know," said the man, curtly ; but he 
took the passport and stared at it curiously. Then 
he passed it around the circle, and it finally came 
back to its owner, who placed it in his pocket. 

" You find it correct ? " Stewart inquired. 

" I know nothing about it. You must wait until 
our officer arrives." 

Stewart felt a sickening sensation at his heart, 
but he managed to smile. 



1 88 LITTLE COMRADE 

" He will not be long, I hope," he said. " We are 
very tired and hungry." 

" He will not be long," answered the other, 
shortly, and got out a long pipe, but Stewart stopped 
him with a gesture. 

" Try one of these," he said, quickly, and brought 
out his handful of cigars and passed them around. 

The men grinned their thanks, and were soon 
pufifing away with evident enjoyment. But to Stew- 
art the single cigar he had kept for himself seemed 
strangely savorless. He glanced at his companion. 
She was sitting hunched up, her arms about her 
knees, staring thoughtfully at the fire. 

" This man says we must wait here until their 
oflficer arrives," he explained in English. " My 
brother does not understand German," he added to 
the men. 

" How stupid ! " said the girl. " I am so tired 
and stiff!" 

" It is no use to argue with them, I suppose? " 

" No. They will refuse to decide anything for 
themselves. They rely wholly upon their officers." 

She rose wearily, stretched herself, stamped her 
foot as if it were asleep, and then sat down again 
and closed her eyes. She looked very young and 
fragile, and was shivering from head to foot. 



FORTUNE FROWNS 189 

" My brother is not strong," said Stewart to the 
attentive group. " I fear all this hardship and ex- 
posure will be more than he can bear." 

One of the men, with a gesture of sympathy, rose, 
unrolled his blanket, and spread it on the bank be- 
hind the fire. 

" Let the young man lie down there," he 
said. 

" Oh, thank you ! " cried Stewart. " Come, 
Tommy," he added, touching the girl on the arm. 
" Suppose you lie down till the officer comes." 

She opened her eyes, saw the blanket, nodded 
sleepily, and, still shivering, followed Stewart to it, 
lay down, permitted him to roll her in it, and ap- 
parently dropped off to sleep on the instant. Stewart 
returned to the circle about the fire, nodding his 
satisfaction. They all smiled, as men do who have 
performed a kind action. 

But Stewart, though doing his best to keep a placid 
countenance, was far from easy in his mind. One 
thing was certain — ^they must escape before the offi- 
cer arrived. He, no doubt, would be able both to read 
and speak English, and the passport would betray 
them at once. For without question, a warning had 
been flashed from headquarters to every patrol to 
arrest the holder of that passport, and to send hira 



I90 LITTLE COMRADE 

and his companion, under close guard, back to Her- 
besthal. But how to escape! 

Stewart glanced carefully about him, cursing the 
carelessness that had brought them into this trap, 
the imbecility which had held them staring at this 
outpost, instead of taking instantly to the woods, as 
they should have done. They deserved to be cap- 
tured ! Nevertheless 

The sentry was pacing slowly back and forth at 
the tunnel entrance, fifteen yards away; the other 
men were lolling about the fire, half-asleep. It 
would be possible, doubtless, to bolt into the darkness 
before they could grab their rifles, so there was only 
the sentry to fear, and the danger from him would 
not be very great. But it would be necessary to 
keep to the track for some distance, because, where 
it dropped into the tunnel, its sides were precipices 
impossible to scale in the darkness. The danger, 
then, lay in the fact that the men might have time 
to snatch up their rifles and empty them along the 
track before the fugitives would be able to leave it. 
But it was a danger which must be faced — there was 
no other way. Once in the woods, they would be 
safe. 

Stewart, musing over the situation with eyes half- 
closed, recalled dim memories of daring escapes 



FORTUNE FROWNS 191 

from Indians and outlaws, described in detail in the 
blood-and-thunder reading of his youth. There was 
always one ruse which never failed — just as the pur- 
suers were about to fire, the fugitive would fling him- 
self flat on his face, and the bullets would fly harm- 
lessly over him; then he would spring to his feet 
and go safely on his way. Stewart smiled to re- 
member how religiously he had believed in that 
stratagem, and how he had determined to practice 
it, if ever need arose ! He had never contemplated 
the possibility of having to flee from a squad of 
men armed with magazine rifles, capable of firing 
twenty-five shots a minute! 

Then he shook these thoughts away; there was 
no time to be lost. He must warn his companion, 
for they must make the dash at the same instant. 
He glanced toward where she lay in the shadow of 
the cliff, and saw that she was turning restlessly 
from side to side, as though fevered. With real 
anxiety, he hastened to her, knelt beside her, and 
placed his hand gently on her forehead. At the 
touch, she opened her eyes and stared dazedly up at 
him. 

"Ask for some water," she said, weakly; and 
then, in the same tone, " we must flee at the mo- 
ment they salute their officer." 



192 LITTLE COMRADE 

Stewart turned to the soldiers, who were listen- 
ing with inquiring faces. 

" My brother is feverish," he explained. " He 
asks for a drink of water." 

One of the men was instantly on his feet, un- 
screwing his canteen and holding it to the eager 
lips while Stewart supported his comrade's head. 
She drank eagerly and then dropped back with a 
sigh of satisfaction, and closed her eyes. 

" He will go to sleep now," said Stewart. 
" Thank you," and he himself took a drink from the 
proffered flask. 

He was surprised to find how cool and fresh the 
water tasted, and when he looked at the flask more 
closely, he saw that it was made like a Thermos 
bottle, with outer and inner shells. He handed it 
back to its owner with a nod of admiration. 

" That is very clever," he said. " Everything 
seems to have been thought of." 

" Yes, everything," agreed the other. " No army 
is equipped like ours. I am told that the French 
are in rags." 

" I don't know," said Stewart, cautiously, " I have 
never seen them." 

" And their army is not organized; we shall be in 
Paris before they can mobilize. It will be 1870 



FORTUNE FROWNS 193 

over again. The war will be ended in two or three 
months. It has been promised us that we shall be 
home again for Christmas without fail." 

" I hope you will," Stewart agreed ; and there 
was a moment's silence. " How much longer shall 
we have to wait ? " he asked, at last. 

" Our officer should be here at any moment." 

" It is absolutely necessary that we wait for 
him?" 

"Yes, absolutely." 

" We are very hungry," Stewart explained. 

The soldier pondered for a moment, and then 
rose to his feet. 

" I think I can give you food," he said. " It is 
permitted to give food, is it not?" he asked his 
comrades; and when they nodded, he opened his 
knapsack and took out a package of hard, square 
biscuits and a thick roll of sausage. He cut the 
sausage into generous slices, while Stewart watched 
with watering mouth, placed a slice on each of the 
biscuits, and passed them over. 

" Splendid ! " cried Stewart. " I don't know how 
to thank you. But at least I can pay you," and he 
dove into his pocket and produced a ten-mark piece 
— his last. The soldier shook his head. " It is for 
the whole squad," added Stewart, persuasively. 



194 LITTLE COMRADE 

" You will be needing tobacco some day, and this 
will come in handy ! " 

The soldier smiled, took the little coin, and placed 
it carefully in his pocket. 

" You are right about the tobacco," he said. " I 
thank you." 

He sat down again before the fire, while Stewart 
hastened to his companion and dropped to his knees 
beside her. 

" See what I've got ! " he cried. " Food ! " 

She opened her eyes, struggled to a sitting pos- 
ture, and held out an eager hand. A moment later, 
they were both munching the sausage and biscuits as 
though they had never tasted anything so delicious — 
as, indeed, they never had ! 

" Oh, how good that was ! " she said, when the 
last crumb was swallowed, and she waved her thanks 
to the watching group about the fire. " Remember,"' 
she added, in a lower tone, as she sank back ilpon 
her elbow, " the instant " 

She stopped, staring toward the tunnel, one hand 
grasping the blanket. 

Stewart, following her look, saw the sentry 
stiffen, turn on his heel, and hold his rifle rigidly in 
front of him, as a tall figure, clad in a long gray coat 
and carrying an electric torch, stepped out of the 



FORTUNE FROWNS . 195 

darkness of the tunnel. At the same instant, the 
men about the fire sprang to their feet. 

" Now ! " cried the girl, and threw back the 
blanket. 

In an instant, hand in hand, they had glided into 
the darkness. 



CHAPTER XI 
THE NIGHT ATTACK 

A SAVAGE voice behind them shouted, " Halt ! " and 
then a bullet sang past and a rifle went off with a 
noise like a cannon — or so it seemed to Stewart; 
then another and another. It was the sentry, of 
course, pumping bullets after them. Stewart's flesh 
crept at the thought that any instant might bring 
a volley, which would sweep the track with a storm 
of lead. If he could only look back, if he only 
knew • 

Suddenly the girl pulled him to the right, and he 
saw there was a cleft in the steep bank. Even as 
they sprang into it, the volley came, and then a 
second and a third, and then the sound of shouting 
voices and running feet. 

Savagely the fugitives fought their way upward, 
over rocks, through briars — scratched, torn, bleed- 
ing, panting for breath. Even in the daytime it 
would have been a desperate scramble; now it soon 
became a sort of horrid nightmare, which might end 

196 



THE NIGHX ATTACK 197 

at any instant at the bottom of a cliff. More than 
once Stewart told himself that he could not go on, 
that his heart would burst if he took another step — 
and yet he did go on, up and up, close behind his 
comrade, who seemed borne on invisible wings. 

At last she stopped and pressed close against him. 
He could feel how her heart was thumping. 

" Wait ! " she panted. " Listen ! " 

Not a sound broke the stillness of the wood. 

" I think we are safe," she said. " Let us rest a 
while." 

They sat down, side by side, on a great rock. 
Gradually their gasping breath slackened and the 
pounding of their hearts grew quieter. 

" I have lost my cap," she said, at last. " A 
branch snatched it off and I did not dare to stop." 

Stewart put his hand to his head and found that 
his hat also was gone. Until that instant he had not 
missed it. 

" I feel as if I had been flayed," he said. " Those 
briars were downright savage. It was lucky we 
didn't break a leg — or stop a bullet." 

" We must not run such risks again. We must 
keep clear of roads — 'the Germans seem to be every- 
where. Let us keep on until we reach the crest 
of this hill, and then we can rest till daylight." 



198 LITTLE COMRADE 

"All right," agreed Stewart. "Where thou 
goest, I will go. But please remember I don't travel 
on angelic wings as you do, but on very human legs ! 
And they are very tired ! " 

" So are mine ! " she laughed. " But we cannot 
remain here, can we? " 

" No," said Stewart, " I suppose not," and he 
arose and followed her. 

The ground grew less rough as they proceeded, 
and at last they came to the end of the wood. Over- 
head, a full moon was sinking toward the west — a 
moon which lighted every rock and crevice of the 
rolling meadow before them, and which seemed to 
them, after the darkness of the woods and the val- 
leys, as brilliant as the sun. 

" We must be nearly at the top," said the girl. 
" These hills almost all have meadows on their sum- 
mits where the peasants pasture their flocks." 

And so it proved, for beyond the meadow was 
another narrow strip of woodland, and as they came 
to its farther edge, the fugitives stopped with a 
gasp of astonishment. 

Below them stretched a broad valley, and as far as 
the eye could reach, it was dotted with flaring fires. 

" The German army ! " said the girl, and the two 
stood staring. 



THE NIGHT ATTACK 199 

Evidently a countless host lay camped below 
them, but no sound reached them, save the occasional 
rumble of a train along some distant track. The 
Kaiser's legions were sleeping until the dawn should 
give the signal for the advance — an advance which 
would be as the sweep of an avalanche, hideous, ir- 
resistible, remorseless, crushing everything in its 
path. 

" Oh, look, look ! " cried the girl, and caught him 
by the arm. 

To the west, seemingly quite near, a flash of 
flame gleamed against the sky, then another and an- 
other and another, and in a moment a savage rumble 
as of distant thunder drifted to their ears. 

" What is it ? " asked Stewart, staring at the ever- 
increasing bursts of flame. " Not a battle, surely ! " 

" It is the forts at Liege ! " cried the girl, hoarsely. 
" The Germans are attacking them, and they resist ! 
Oh, brave little Belgium ! " 

The firing grew more furious, and then a battery 
of searchlights began to play over the hillside before 
the nearest fort, and they could dimly see its outline 
on the hilltop — strangely like a dreadnaught, with 
its wireless mast and its armored turrets vomiting 
flame. Above it, from time to time, a shell from the 
German batteries burst like a greenish-white rocket, 



200 LITTLE COMRADE 

but it was evident that the assailants had not yet got 
their guns up in any number. 

Then, suddenly, amid the thunder of the cannon, 
there surged a vicious undercurrent of sound which 
Stewart knew must be the reports of machine-guns, 
or perhaps of rifles; and all along the slope below 
the fort innumerable little flashes stabbed upward 
toward the summit. Surely infantry would never 
attack such a position, Stewart told himself; and 
then he held his breath, for, full in the glare of the 
searchlights, he could see what seemed to be a tidal 
wave sweeping up the hill. 

A very fury of firing came from the fort, yet still 
the wave swept on. As it neared the fort, what 
seemed to be another wave swept down to meet it. 
The firing slackened, almost stopped, and Stewart, 
his blood pounding in his temples, knew that the 
struggle was hand to hand, breast to breast. It 
lasted but a minute; then the attacking tide flowed 
back down the hill, and again the machine-guns of 
the fort took up that deadly chorus. 

" They have been driven back ! " gasped the girl. 
"Thank God! the Germans have been driven 
back!" 

How many, Stewart wondered, were lying out 
there dead on the hillside? How many homes had 



THE NIGHTj ATTACK 201 

been rendered fatherless in those few desperate mo- 
ments? And this was but the first of a thousand 
such charges — the first of a thousand such moments ! 
There, before his eyes, men had killed each other — 
for what? The men in the forts were defending 
their Fatherland from invasion — they were fighting 
for liberty and independence. That was understand- 
able — ^it was even admirable. But those others — the 
men in the spiked helmets — ^what were they fighting 
for? To destroy liberty? To wrest independence 
from a proud little people? Surely no man of honor 
would fight for that ! No, it must be for something 
else — for some ideal — for some ardent sense of duty, 
strangely twisted, perhaps, but none the less fierce 
and urgent ! 

Again the big guns in the armored turrets were 
bellowing forth their wrath; and then the search- 
lights stabbed suddenly up into the sky, sweeping 
this way and that. 

" They fear an airship attack ! " breathed the 
girl, and she and Stewart stood staring up into the 
night. 

Shells from the German guns began again to burst 
about the fort, but its own guns were silent, and it 
lay there crouching as if in terror. Only its search- 
lights swept back and forth. 



202 LITTLE COMRADE 

Suddenly a gun spoke — they could see the flash 
of its discharge, seemingly straight up into the air; 
then a second and a third; and then the search- 
lights caught the great bulk of a Zeppelin and held it 
clearly outlined as it swept across the sky. There 
was a furious burst of firing, but the ship sped on 
unharmed, passed beyond the range of the search- 
lights, blotted out the setting moon for an instant, 
and was gone. 

" It did not dare pass over the fort," said the girl. 
" It was flying too low. Perhaps it will come back 
at a greater altitude. I have seen them at the ma- 
neuvers in Alsace — frightful things, moving like the 
wind." 

This way and that the searchlights swept in great 
arcs across the heavens, in frenzied search for this 
monster of the air; but it did not return. Perhaps 
it had been damaged by the gunfire— or perhaps, 
Stewart told himself with a shiver, it was speeding 
on toward Paris, to rain terror from the August 
sky! 

Gradually the firing ceased ; but the more distant 
forts were using their searchlights, too. Seeing 
them all aroused and vigilant, the Germans did not 
attack again; their surprise had failed; now they 
must wait for their heavy guns. 



THE NIGHT ATTACK 203 

" Well," asked Stewart, at last, " what now ? " 

" I think it would be well to stay here till morn- 
ing — ^then we can see how the army is placed and 
how best to get past it. It is evident we cannot go 
on to-night." 

" I'm deadly tired," said Stewart, looking about 
him into the darkness, " but I should like a softer bed 
than the bare ground." 

" Let us go to the edge of this meadow," the girl 
suggested. " Perhaps we shall find another field of 
grain." 

But luck was against them. Beyond the meadow 
the woods began again. 

" The meadow is better than the woods," said 
Stewart. " At least it has some grass on it — the 
woods have nothing but rocks ! " 

" Let us stay in the shelter of the hedge. Then, 
if a patrol happens into the field before we are 
awake, it will not see us. Perhaps they will at- 
tempt a pursuit in the morning. They will guess 
that we have headed for the west." 

" I don't think there's much danger — it would be 
like hunting for a needle in a haystack — in a dozen 
haystacks ! But won't you be cold ? " 

" Oh, no," she protested, quickly ; " the night is 
quite warm. Good-night, my friend." 



204 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Good-night," Stewart answered, and withdrew a 
few steps and made himself as comfortable as he 
could. 

There were irritating bumps in the ground which 
seemed to come exactly in the wrong place; but he 
finally adjusted himself, and lay and looked up at 
the stars, and wondered what the morrow would 
bring forth. He was growing a little weary of the 
adventure. He was growing weary of the restraint 
which the situation imposed upon him. He was ach- 
ing to take this girl in his arms and hold her close, 
and whisper three words — ^just three! — into her 
rosy ear — ^but to do that now, to do it until they 
were in safety, until she had no further need of 
him, would be a cowardly thing — a cowardly thing 
— a cowardly ■ 

He was awakened by a touch on the arm, and 
opened his eyes to find the sun high in the heavens 
and his comrade looking down at him with face al- 
most equally radiant. 

" I did not like to wake you," she said, " but it is 
getting late." 

Stewart sat up and rubbed his eyes and looked at 
her again. Her hair was neatly combed, her face 
was fresh and shining, her hands showed some ugly 
iscratches but were scrupulously clean. Even her 



THE NIGHT ATTACK 205 

clothing, though torn here and there, had evidently 
been carefully brushed. 

" What astounds me," said Stewart, deliberately, 
" is how you do it. You spend the first half of the 
night scrambling over rocks and through briars, and 
the second half sleeping on the bare ground, and you 
emerge in the morning as fresh and radiant as 
though you had just stepped from your boudoir. 
I wish I knew the secret." 

" Come and I will show you," she said, laugh- 
ing gayly, and she led him away into the 
wood. 

Presently he heard the sound of falling water, 
and his guide brought him triumphantly to a brook 
gurgling over mossy rocks, at whose foot was a 
shallow basin. 

" There is my boudoir," she said. " The secret of 
beauty is in the bath. I will reconnoiter the neigh- 
borhood while you try it for yourself." 

Stewart flung off his clothes, splashed joyously 
into the cold, clear water, and had perhaps the most 
delicious bath of his life. There was no soap, to 
be sure, but much may be done by persistent rubbing; 
and there were no towels, but the warm wind of the 
morning made them almost unnecessary. He got 
back into his clothes again with a sense of astonish- 



2o6 LITTLE COMRADE 

ing well-being — except for a most persistent gnaw- 
ing at his stomach. 

" I wonder where we shall breakfast to-day? " he 
mused as he laced his shoes. " Nowhere, most prob- 
ably! Oh, well, if that dear girl can stand it, I 
oughtn't to complain ! " 

And he fell to thinking of her, of her slim grace, 
of the curve of her red lips 

" Confound it ! " he said. " I can't stand it much 
longer. Friendship is all very well, and the big 
brother act may do for a while — ^but I can't keep it 
up forever, and what's more, I won't ! " 

And then he heard her calling, in the clear, high 
voice he had grown to love. 

" All right ! " he shouted. " Come along! ' 

Presently she appeared between the trees, and he 
watched her with beating heart — so straight, so sup- 
ple, so perfect in every line. 

" Did the magic work ? " she inquired, gayly. 

" Partly ; but it takes more than water to remove 
a two-days' growth of beard," and Stewart ran a 
rueful finger over his stubbly chin. " But can it be 
only two days since you burst into my room at the 
Kolner Hof, and threw your arms around my neck 
and kissed me ! " 

" Please do not speak of it ! " she pleaded, with 



THE NIGHT, ATTACK 207 

crimson cheeks. " It was not an easy thing for a 
girl to do ; but that spy was watching — so I nerved 
myself, and " 

" You did it very well, indeed," he said, remi- 
niscently. " And to think that not once since 
then " 

" Once was quite enough." 

" Oh, I don't blame you ; I know I'm not an at- 
tractive object. People will be taking us for beauty 
and the beast." 

" Neither the one nor the other ! " she corrected. 

" Well, I take back the beast; but not the beauty ! 
You are the loveliest thing I ever saw," he added, 
huskily. " The very loveliest ! " 

She looked down at him for an instant, and her 
eyes were very tender ; then she looked hastily away. 

" There were to be no compliments until we were 
out of Germany," she reminded him. 

" We are out of Germany," he said, and got slowly 
to his feet, his eyes on fire. 

" No, no," she protested, backing hastily away 
from him. " This is German ground — let me show 
you ! " and she ran before him out into the meadow. 
" Look down yonder ! " 

Looking down, Stewart saw the mighty army 
which had been mustered to crush France. 



208 LITTLE COMRADE 

As far as the eye could reach, and from side to 
side of the broad valley, it stretched — ^masses of men 
and horses and wagons and artillery — masses and 
masses — 'thousands upon thousands — mile upon 
mile. A broad highway ran along either side of the 
river, and along each road a compact host moved 
steadily westward toward Liege. 

Suddenly from the west came the thunder of 
heavy guns, and Stewart knew that the attack had 
commencea again. Again men were being driven 
forward to death, as they would be driven day after 
day, until the end, whatever that might be. And 
whatever it was, not a single dead man could be 
brought to life; not a single maimed man made 
whole ; not a single dollar of the treasure which was 
being poured out like a flood could be recovered. It 
was all lost, wasted, worse than wasted, since it was 
being used to destroy, not to create! Incredible — 
impossible — it could not be! Even with that 
mighty army beneath his eyes, Stewart told him- 
self for the hundredth time that it cotdd not 
be! 

The voice of his comrade broke in upon his 
thoughts. 

" We must work our way westward along the hills 
until we come to the Meuse," she said. " This is the 



THE NIGHT ATTACK 209 

valley of the Vesdre, which flows into the Meuse, so 
we have only to follow it." 

" Can't you prevail upon your fairy godmother 
to provide breakfast first ? " asked Stewart. " I'm 
sure you have only to wish for it, and the table would 
appear laden with an iced melon, bacon and eggs, 
crisp rolls, yellow butter, and a pot of coffee — I think 
I can smell the coffee!" He closed his eyes and 
sniffed. " How perfect it would be to sit right here 
and eat that breakfast and watch the Germans! 
Oh, well," he added, as she turned away, " if not 
here, then somewhere else. Wait! Isn't that a 
house over yonder ? " 

It was indeed a tiny house whose gable just 
showed among the trees, and they made their way 
cautiously toward it. It stood at the side of a small 
garden, with two or three outbuildings about it, and 
it was shielded on one side by an orchard. No 
smoke rose from the chimney, nor was there any 
sign of life. 

And then Stewart, who had been crouching 
behind the hedge beside his companion, looking at 
all this, rose suddenly to his feet and started for- 
ward. 

" Come on," he cried; " the Germans haven't been 
this way — ^there's a chicken," and he pointed to 



2IO LITTLE COMRADE 

where a plump hen was scratching industriously 
under the hedge. 

" Here is another sign," said the girl, as they 
crossed the garden, and pointed to the ground. 
" The potatoes and turnips have not been dug." 

" It must be here we're going to have that break- 
fast ! " cried Stewart, and knocked triumphantly at 
the door. 

There was no response and he knocked again. 
Then he tried the door, but it was locked. There 
was another door at the rear of the house, but- it also 
was locked. There were also three windows, but 
they were all tightly closed with wooden shut- 
ters. 

" We've got to have something to eat, that's cer- 
tain," said Stewart, doggedly. " We shall have to 
break in," and he looked about for a weapon with 
which to attack the door. 

"No, no," protested the girl, quickly. "That 
would be too like the Uhlans ! Let us see if there is 
not some other way ! " 

" What other way can there be ? " 

" Perhaps there is none," she answered; " and if 
there is not, we will go on our way, and leave this 
house undamaged. You too seem to have been poi- 
soned by this virus of war ! " 



THE NIGHT, ATTACK 211 

" I only know I'm starving ! " said Stewart. " If 
I've been poisoned by anything, it's by the virus of 
appetite ! " 

"If you were in your own country, and found 
yourself hungry, would you break into the first house 
you came to in order to get food?" she demanded. 
" Certainly not — ^you would do without food before 
you would do that. Is it not so? " 

" Yes," said Stewart, in a low tone. " That is so. 
You are right." 

" Perhaps I can find something," she said, more 
gently. " At least I will try. Remain here for a 
moment," and she hurried away toward the out- 
buildings. 

Stewart stared out into the road and reflected how 
easy — how inevitable almost — it was to become a 
robber among thieves, a murderer among cut- 
throats. And he understood how it happens that 
in war even the kindliest man may become blood- 
thirsty, even the most honest a looter of defenseless 
homes. 

" See what I have found ! " cried a voice, and 
he turned to see the girl running toward him with 
hands outstretched. In each hand she held three 

eggs. 

" Very well for a beginning," he commented. 



212 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Now for the melon, the bacon, the rolls, the butter, 
and the coffee ! " 

" I fear that those must wait," she said. " Here 
is your breakfast," and she handed him three of the 
eggs. 

Stewart looked at them rather blankly. 

" Thanks ! " he said. " But I don't quite see " 

"Then watch!" 

Sitting down on the doorstep, she cracked one of 
her eggs gently, picked away the loosened bit of 
shell at its end, and put the egg to her lips. 

" Oh ! " he said. " So that's it ! " and sitting down 
beside her, he followed her example. 

He had heard of sucking eggs, but he had never 
before tried it, and he found it rather difficult and 
not particularly pleasant. But the first egg undoubt- 
edly did assuage the pangs of hunger; the second 
assuaged them still more, and the third quite ex- 
tinguished them. In fact, he felt a little surfeited. 

" Now," she said, " for the dessert." 

" Dessert ! " protested Stewart. " Is there des- 
sert? Why didn't you tell me? I never heard of 
dessert for breakfast, and I'm afraid I haven't room 
for it!" 

" It will keep ! " she assured him, and leading him 
around the larger of the outbuildings, she showed 



THE NIGHT ATTACK 213 

him a tree hanging thick with ruddy apples. " There 
are our supplies for the campaign ! " she announced. 

" My compliments ! " he said. " You would make 
a great general." 

They ate one or two apples and then filled their 
pockets. From one of hers, the girl drew a pipe 
and pouch of tobacco. 

" Would you not like to smoke ? " she asked. " I 
have been told that a pipe is a great comfort in 
times of stress ! " 

And Stewart, calling down blessings upon her 
head, filled up. Never had tobacco tasted so good, 
never had that old pipe seemed so sweet, as when he 
blew out the first puff upon the morning air. 

" Salvation Yeo was right," he said. " As a hun- 
gry man's food, a sad man's cordial, a chilly man's 
fire, there's nothing like it under the canopy of 
heaven! I only wish you could enjoy it too! " 

" I can enjoy your enjoyment ! " she laughed as 
they set happily off together. 

At the corner of the wood, Stewart turned for a 
last look at the house. 

" How glad I am I didn't break in ! " he said. 



CHAPTER XII 
AN ARMY IN ACTION 

The sound of cannonading grew fiercer and fiercer, 
as they advanced, and the undertone of rifle fire 
more perceptible. It was evident that the Germans 
were rapidly getting more and more guns into action, 
and that the infantry attack was also being hotly 
pressed. Below them in the valley, they caught 
glimpses from time to time, as the trees opened 
out a little, of the gray-clad host marching steadily 
forward, as though to overwhelm the forts by sheer 
weight of numbers ; and then, as they came out above 
a rocky bluff, they saw a new sight — an ear- 
nest that the Belgians were fighting to some pur- 
pose. 

In a level field beside the road a long tent had been 
pitched, and above it floated the flag of the Red 
Cross. Toward it, along the road, came slowly a 
seemingly endless line of motor ambulances. Each 
of them in turn stopped opposite the tent, and white- 
clad assistants lifted out the stretchers, each with its 

ai4 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 215 

huddled occupant, and carried them quickly, yet very 
carefully, inside the tent. In a moment the bearers 
were back again, pushed the empty stretchers into 
place, and the ambulance turned and sped swiftly 
back toward the battlefield. Here, too, it was evi- 
dent that there was admirable and smoothly-working 
system — a system which alleviated, so far as it was 
possible to do so, the horror and the suffering of 
battle. 

Stewart could close his eyes and see what was 
going on inside that tent. He could set the stripping 
away of the clothing, the hasty examination, the 
sterilization of the wound, and then, if an operation 
was necessary, the quick preparation, the application 
of the ether-cone and the swift, unerring flash of 
the surgeon's knife. 

" That's where I should be," he said, half to him- 
self, " I might be of some use there! " And then 
he turned his eyes eastward along the road. " Great 
heavens ! Look at that gun." 

Along the road below them came a monstrous can- 
non, mounted on a low, broad-wheeled truck, and 
drawn by a mighty tractor. It was of a girth so 
huge, of a weight evidently so tremendous, that it 
seemed impossible it could be handled at all, and yet 
it rolled along as smoothly as though it were the 



2i6 LITTLE COMRADE 

merest toy. Above it stretched the heavy crane 
which would swing it into the air and place it gently 
on the trunnions of its carriage. Drawn by an- 
other tractor, the carriage itself came close behind — 
more huge, more impressive if possible, than the gun 
itself. Its tremendous wheels were encircled with 
heavy blocks of steel, linked together and undulating 
along the road for all the world like a monster cater- 
pillar; its massive trail seemed forged to withstand 
the shock of an earthquake. 

" So that is the surprise ! " murmured the girl be- 
neath her breath. 

And she was right. This was the surprise which 
had been kept so carefully concealed — the Krupp 
contribution to the war — ^the largest field howitzer 
ever built, hurling a missile so powerful that neither 
steel nor stone nor armored concrete could stand 
against it. 

In awed silence, the two fugitives watched this 
mighty engine of destruction pass along the road to 
its appointed task. Behind it came a motor truck 
carrying its crew, and then a long train of ammuni- 
tion carts filled with what looked like wicker bas- 
kets — ^but within each of those baskets lay a shell 
weighing a thousand pounds ! And as it passed, the 
troops, opening to right and left, cheered it wildly, 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 217 

for to them it meant more than victory — it meant 
that they would, perhaps, be spared the desperate 
charge with its almost certain death. 

Scarcely had the first gone by, when a second 
gun came rolling along the road, followed by its 
crew and its ammunition-train; and then a third 
appeared, seemingly more formidable than either of 
the others. 

" These Germans are certainly a wonderful peo- 
ple," said Stewart, following the three monsters 
with his eyes as they dwindled away westward along 
the road. " They may be vain and arrogant and 
self-confident ; apparently they haven't much regard 
for the rights of others. But they are thorough. We 
must give them credit for that ! They are prepared 
for everything." 

" Yes," agreed his companion; " for everything 
except one thing." 

"And that?" 

" The spirit of a people who love liberty. Neither 
cannon nor armies can conquer that ! The German 
Staff believed that Belgium would stand aside in 
fear." 

" Surely you don't expect Belgium to win? " 

" Oh, no ! But every day she holds the German 
army here is a battle won for France. Oh, France 



2i8 LITTLE COMRADE 

will honor Belgium now! See — the army has been 
stopped. It is no longer advancing ! " 

What was happening to the westward they could 
not see, or even guess, but it was true that the hel- 
meted host had ceased its march, had broken ranks, 
and was stacking arms and throwing off its accouter- 
ments in the fields along the road. The halt was to 
be for some time, it seemed, for everywhere camp- 
kitchens were being hauled into place, fires started, 
food unloaded. 

" Come on ! come on ! " urged the girl. " We 
must reach the Meuse before this tide rolls across it." 

They pressed forward again along the wooded 
hillside. Twice they had to cross deep valleys which 
ran back into the mountain, and once they had a 
narrow escape from a cavalry patrol which came 
cantering past so close upon their heels that they 
had barely time to throw themselves into the under- 
brush. They could see, too, that even iti the hills 
caution was necessary, for raiding parties had evi- 
dently struck up into them, as was proved by an 
occasional column of smoke rising from a burning 
house. Once they came upon an old peasant with a 
face wrinkled like a withered apple, sitting staring 
down at the German host, so preoccupied that he 
did not even raise his eyes as they passed. And at 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 219 

last they came out above the broad plain where the 
Vesdre flows into the Meuse. 

Liege, with its towers and terraced streets, was 
concealed from them by a bend in the river and by a 
bold bluff which thrust out toward it from the east 
— a bluff crowned by a turreted fortress — perhaps 
the same they had seen the night before — .which was 
vomiting flame and iron down into the valley. 

The trees and bushes which clothed its sides con- 
cealed the infantry which was doubtless lying there, 
but in the valley just below them they could see a 
battery of heavy guns thundering against the Bel- 
gian fort. So rapidly were they served that the 
roar of their discharge was almost continuous, while 
high above it rose the scream of the shells as they 
hurtled toward their mark. There was something 
fascinating in the precise, calculated movement of 
the gunners — one crouching on the trail, one seated 
on either side of the breech, four others passing up 
the shells from the caisson close at hand. Their 
ofificer was watching the effect of the fire through a 
field-glass, and speaking a word of direction now 
and then. 

Their fire was evidently taking effect, for it was 
this battery which the gunners in the fort were try- 
ing to silence — ^trying blindly, for the German guns 



220 LITTLE COMRADE 

were masked by a high hedge and a strip of orchard, 
and only a tenuous, quickly-vanishing wisp of white 
smoke marked the discharge. So the Belgian gun- 
ners dropped their shells hither and yon, hoping that 
chance might send one of them home. 

They did not find the battery, but they found 
other marks — a beautiful white villa, on the first 
slope of the hillside, was torn asunder like a house of 
cards and a moment later was in flames ; a squad of 
cavalry, riding gayly back from a reconnoissance 
down the river, was violently scattered; a peasant 
family, father and mother and three children, hasten- 
ing along the road to a place of safety, was in- 
stantly blotted out. 

It was evident now that the Meuse was the barrier 
which had stopped the army. Far up toward Liege 
were the ruins of a bridge, and no doubt all the 
others had been blown up by the Belgians. 

Down by the river-bank a large force of engineers 
were working like mad to throw a pontoon across 
the swift current. The material had already been 
brought up — ^heavy, flat-bottomed boats, carried on 
wagons drawn by motor-tractors, great beams and 
planks, boxes of bolts — everything, in a word, 
needed to build this bridge just here at a point which 
had no doubt been selected long in advance! The 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 221 

bridge shot out into the river with a speed which 
seemed to Stewart almost miraculous. Boat after 
boat was towed into place and anchored firmly ; great 
beams were bolted into position, each of them fitting 
exactly; and then the heavy planks were laid with 
the precision and rapidity of a machine. Indeed, 
Stewart told himself, it was really a machine that he 
was watching — .a machine of flesh and blood, won- 
derfully trained for just such feats as this. 

" Look ! look ! " cried the girl, and Stewart, fol- 
lowing her pointing finger, saw an aeroplane sweep- 
ing toward them from the direction of the city. 
Evidently the defenders of the fort, weary of firing 
blindly at a battery they could not see, were send- 
ing a scout to uncover it. 

The aeroplane flew very high at first — so high that 
the two men in it appeared the merest specks, but al- 
most at once two high-angle guns were banging 
away at it, though the shells fell far short. Gradu- 
ally it circled lower and lower, as if quite uncon- 
scious of the marksmen in the valley, and as it swept 
past the hill, Stewart glimpsed the men quite plainly 
—one with his hands upon the levers, the other, with 
a pair of glasses to his eyes, eagerly scanning the 
ground beneath. 

And then Stewart, happening to glance toward the 



222 LITTLE COMRADE 

horizon, was held enthralled by a new spectacle. 
High over the hills to the east flew a mammoth 
shape, straight toward the fort. Its defenders 
saw their danger instantly, and hastily elevating 
some of their guns, greeted the Zeppelin with a 
salvo. But it came straight on with incredible speed, 
and as it passed above the fort, a terrific explosion 
shook the mountain to its base. Stewart, staring 
with bated breath, told himself that that was the 
end, that not one stone of that great fortress re- 
mained upon another; but an instant later, another 
volley sent after the fleeing airship told that the fort 
still stood — that the bomb had missed its mark. 

The aeroplane scouts, their vision shadowed by 
the broad wings of their machine, had not seen the 
Zeppelin until the explosion brought them sharp 
round toward it. Then, with a sudden upward 
swoop, they leaped forward in pursuit. But noth- 
ing could overtake that monster, — it was speeding 
too fast, it was already far away, and in a moment 
disappeared over the hills to the west. So, after a 
moment's breathless flight, the biplane turned, circled 
slowly above the fort, and dropped down toward 
the town behind it. 

Five minutes later, a high-powered shell burst 
squarely in the midst of the German battery. 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 223 

disabling two of the guns. At once the horses were 
driven up and the remaining guns whirled away to a 
new emplacement, while a passing motor ambulance 
was stopped to pick up the wounded. 

Stewart, who had been watching all this with 
something of the feelings of a spectator at some 
tremendous panorama, was suddenly conscious of a 
mighty stream of men approaching the river from 
the head of the valley. A regiment of cavalry rode 
in front, their long lances giving them an appearance 
indescribably picturesque ; behind them came column 
after column of infantry, moving like clock-work, 
their gray uniforms blending so perfectly with the 
background that it was difficult to tell where the 
columns began or where they ended. Their pas- 
sage reminded Stewart of the quiver of heat above a 
sultry landscape — a vibration of the air scarcely per- 
ceptible. 

All the columns were converging on the river, and 
looking toward it, Stewart saw that the bridge was 
almost done. As the last planks were laid, a squad- 
ron of Uhlans, which had been held in readiness, 
dashed across, and deploying fanshape, advanced 
to reconnoiter the country on the other side. 

" That looks like invasion in earnest ! " said 
Stewart. 



224 LITTLE COMRADE 

The girl nodded without replying, her eyes on the 
advancing columns. The cavalry was the first to reach 
the bridge, and filed rapidly across to reenforce their 
comrades; then the infantry pressed forward in 
solid column. Stewart could see how the boats 
settled deep in the water under the tremendous 
weight. 

High above all other sounds, came the hideous 
shriek of a great shell, which flew over the bridge 
and exploded in the water a hundred yards below it. 
A minute later, there came another shriek, but this 
time the shell fell slightly short. But the third shell 
—the third shell! 

Surely, Stewart told himself, the bridge will be 
cleared; that close-packed column will not be ex- 
posed to a risk so awful. But it pressed on, with- 
out a pause, without a break. What must be the 
soldiers' thoughts, as they waited for the third 
shell! 

Again that high, hideous, blood-curdling shriek 
split through the air, and the next instant a shell 
exploded squarely in the middle of the bridge. 
Stewart had a moment's vision of a tangle of shat- 
tered bodies, then he saw that the bridge was gone 
and the river filled with drowning men, weighed 
down by their heavy accouterments. He could hear 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 225 

their shrill cries of terror as they struggled in the 
current ; then the cries ceased as the river swept most 
of them away. Only a very few managed to reach 
the bank. 

Stewart hid his face in his trembling hands. It 
was too hideous! It could not be! He could not 
bear it — ^the world would not bear it, if it knew ! 

A sharp cry from his companion told him that the 
awful drama was not yet played to an end. She was 
pointing beyond the river, where the cavalry and the 
small body of infantry which had got across seemed 
thrown into sudden confusion. Horses reared and 
fell, men dropped from their saddles. The in- 
fantry threw themselves forward upon their faces ; 
and then to Stewart's ears came the sharp rattle of 
musketry. 

" The Belgians are attacking them ! " cried the 
girl. " They are driving them back ! " 

But that cavalry, so superbly trained, that infan- 
try, so expertly officered, were not to be driven back 
without a struggle. The Uhlans formed into line 
and swept forward", with lances couched, over the 
ridge beyond the river and out of sight, in a furious 
charge. But the Belgians must have stood firm, for 
at the end of a few moments, the troopers straggled 
back again, sadly diminished in numbers, and rode 



226 LITTLE COMRADE 

rapidly away down the river, leaving the infantry to 
its fate. 

Meanwhile, on the eastern bank of the river, a bat- 
tery of quick-firers had already been swung into posi- 
tion, and was singing its deadly tune to hold the 
Belgians back. Already the men of that little com- 
pany on the farther side had found a sort of refuge 
behind a line of hummocks. Already some heavier 
guns were being hurried into position to defend the 
bridge which the engineers began at once to rebuild 
farther down the stream, where it would be better 
masked from the fort's attack. 

Evidently the Belgians did not intend to enter 
that deadly zone of fire, and the fight settled down 
to a dogged, long-distance one. 

" We cannot get across here," said the girl at 
last. " We shall have to work our way downstream 
until we are past the Germans. If we can join the 
Belgians, we are safe." 

But to get past the Germans proved a far greater 
task than they had anticipated. There seemed to be 
no end to the gray-clad legions. Brigade after bri- 
gade packed the stretch of level ground along the 
river, while the road was crowded with an astound- 
ing tangle of transport wagons, cook wagons, 
armored motors, artillery, tractors, ambulances, and 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 227 

automobiles of every sort, evidently seized by the 
army in its advance. 

As he looked at them, Stewart could not but won- 
der how on earth they had ever been assembled here, 
and, still more, how they were ever going to be got 
away again. Also, he thought, how easily might 
they be cut to pieces by a few batteries of machine- 
guns posted on that ridge across the river ! Look- 
ing across, he saw that the army chiefs had foreseen 
that danger and guarded against it, for a strong body 
of cavalry had been thrown across the river to screen 
the advance, while along the bank, behind hasty but 
well-built iritrenchments, long lines of artillery had 
been massed to repel any attack from that direction. 

But no attack came. The little Belgian army evi- 
dently had its hands full elsewhere, and was very 
busy indeed, as the roar of firing both up and down 
the river testified. And then, as the fugitives walked 
on along the hillside, they saw that one avenue of 
advance would soon be open, for a company of 
engineers, heavily guarded by cavalry and quick- 
firers, was repairing a bridge whose central span had 
been blown up by the Belgians as they retreated. 

The bridge had connected two little villages, that 
on the east bank dominated by a beautiful white 
chateau placed at the edge of a cliff. Of the vil- 



328 LITTLE COMRADE 

lages little remained but smoking ruins, and a 
flag above the chateau showed that it had been con- 
verted into a staff headquarters. 

Where was the owner of the chateau, Stewart 
wondered, looking up at it. Where were the women 
who had sat and gossiped on its terrace? Where 
were all the people who had lived in those two vil- 
lages? Wandering somewhere to the westward, 
homeless and destitute, every one of them — haggard 
women and hungry children and tottering old men, 
whose quiet world had turned suddenly to chaos. 

" Well," he said, at last, " it looks as if we shall 
have to wait until these fellows clear out. We can't 
get across the river as long as there is a line like 
that before it." 

" Perhaps when they begin to advance, they will 
leave a break in the line somewhere," his companion 
suggested. " Or perhaps we can slip across in the 
darkness. Let us wait and see." 

So they sat down behind the screen of a clump of 
bushes, and munched their apples, while they 
watched the scene below. Stewart even ventured 
to light his pipe again. 

A flotilla of boats of every shape and size, com- 
mandeered, no doubt, all up and down the river, 
plied busily back and forth, augmenting the troops 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 229 

on the other side as rapidly as possible; and again 
Stewart marveled at the absolute order and system 
preserved in this operation, which might so easily 
have become confused. There was no crowding, no 
overloading, no hurrying, but everywhere a calm 
and efficient celerity. A certain number of men 
entered each of the boats, — Pleading their horses by 
the bridle, if they were cavalry, — and the boats 
pushed ofif. Reluctant horses were touched with a 
whip, but most of them stepped down into the water 
quietly and without hesitation, showing that they 
had been drilled no less than their masters, and 
swam strongly along beside the boat. On the other 
shore, the disembarkation was conducted in the same 
unhurried fashion, and the boat swung back into the 
stream again for another load. 

But a great army cannot be conveyed across a 
river in small boats, and it was not until mid-after- 
noon, when the repairs on the bridge were finished, 
that the real forward movement began. From that 
moment it swept forward like a flood — ^first the re- 
mainder of the cavalry, then the long batteries of 
quick-firers, then regiment after regiment of in- 
fantry, each regiment accompanied by its transport. 
Looking down at the tangle of wagons and guns 
and motors, Stewart saw that it was not really a 



230 LITTLE COMRADE 

tangle, but an ordered arrangement, which unrolled 
itself smoothly and without friction. 

The advance was slow, but it was unceasing, and 
by nightfall at least fifteen thousand men had crossed 
the river. Still the host encamped along it seemed 
as great as ever. As one detachment crossed, an- 
other came up from somewhere in the rear to take its 
place. Stewart's brain reeled as he gazed down at 
them and tried to estimate their number; and this 
was only one small corner of the Kaiser's army. 
For leagues and leagues to north and south it was 
pressing forward ; no doubt along the whole frontier 
similar hosts were massed for the invasion. It was 
gigantic, incredible — that word was in his thoughts 
more frequently than any other. He could not be- 
lieve his own eyes; his brain refused to credit the 
evidence of his senses. 

Each unit of this great array, each company, each 
squad, seemed to live its own life and to be suffi- 
cient unto itself. Stewart could see the company 
cooks preparing the evening meal; the heavy, 
wheeled camp-stoves were fired up, great kettles of 
soup were set bubbling, broad loaves of dark bread 
were cut into thick slices; and finally, at a bugle 
call, the men fell into line, white-enameled cups in 
hand, and received their rations. It seemed to Stew- 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 231 

art that he could smell the appetizing odor of that 
thick soup — an odor of onions and potatoes and 
turnips. 

"Doesn't it make you ravenous?" he asked. 
" Wouldn't you like to have some real solid food to 
set your teeth into? Raw eggs and apples — ugh! " 

" Yes, it does," said the girl, who had been con- 
templating the scene with dreamy eyes, scarcely 
speaking all the afternoon. " The French still wear 
the uniform of 1870," she added, half to herself; " a 
long bulky blue coat and red trousers." 

" Visible a mile away — 'while these fellows melt 
into the ground at a hundred yards! If Germany 
wins, it will be through forethought ! " 

" But she cannot win ! " protested the girl, fiercely. 
" She must not win ! " 

" Well, all I can say is that France has a big job 
ahead ! " 

" France will not stand alone ! Already she has 
Russia as an ally; Belgium is doing what it can; 
Servia has a well-tried army. Nor are those all! 
England will soon find that she cannot afford to 
stand aside, and if there is need, other nations will 
come in — Portugal, Rumania, even Italy ! " 

Stewart shook his head, skeptically. 

" I don't know," he said, slowly. " I know noth- 



232 LITTLE COMRADE 

ing about world-politics, but I don't believe any na- 
tion will come in that doesn't have to ! " 

" That is it — all of them will find that they have 
to, for Prussian triumph means slavery for all Eu- 
rope — for the Germans most of all. It is for them 
as much as for herself that France is fighting — for 
human rights everywhere — for the poor people who 
till the fields, and toil in the factories, and sweat in 
the mines! And civilization must fight with her 
against this barbarian state ruled by the upturned 
mustache and mailed fist, believing that might makes 
right and that she can do no wrong! That is why 
you and I are fighting on France's side ! " 

"If nobody fights any harder than I " 

She stopped him with a hand upon his arm. 

" Ah, but you are fighting well ! One can fight 
in other ways than with a rifle — one can fight with 
one's brains." 

" It is your brains, not mine, which have done the 
fighting in this campaign," Stewart pointed out. 

" Where should I have been but for you ? Dead, 
most probably, my message lost, my life-work shat- 
tered!" 

He placed his hand quietly over hers and held it 
fast. 

" Let us be clear, then," he said. " It is not for 



AN ARMY IN ACTION 233 

freedom, or for any abstract ideal I am fighting. 
It is for you — 'for your friendship, for your " 

" No, it is for France," she broke in. " I am not 
worth fighting for — I am but one girl among many 
millions. And if we win — if we get through " 

She paused, gazing out through the gathering 
darkness with starry eyes. 

" Yes — if we get through," he prompted. 

" It will mean more to France than many regi- 
ments ! " and she struck the pocket which contained 
the letters. " Ah, we must get through — we must 
not fail!" 

She rose suddenly and stretched her arms high 
above her head. 

" Dear God, you will not let us fail ! " she cried. 
Then she turned and held out a hand to him. 
" Come," she said, quietly; " if we are to get across, 
it must be before the moon rises." 



CHAPTER XIII 
THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 

The mist of early evening had settled over the river 
and wiped away every vestige of the army, save the 
flaring lights of the camp-kitchens and the white 
lamps of the motors; but the creaking of wheels, 
the pounding of engines, and the regular tramp of 
countless feet told that the advance had not slack- 
ened for an instant. 

On the uplands there was still a little light, and 
Stewart and his companion picked their way cau- 
tiously down through a belt of woodland, across a 
rough field, and over a wall, beyond which they 
found an uneven path, made evidently by a van- 
ished herd as it went back and forth to its pasture. 
They advanced slowly and silently, every sense on 
the alert, but seemingly no pickets had been posted 
on this side, from which there was no reason to 
fear an attack, and they were soon down amid the 
mist, at the edge of the encampment. 

Here, however, there were sentries — a close line 

of them ; the fugitives could see them dimly outlined 

234 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 235 

against the fires, and could hear their occasional 
interchange of challenges. 

" It is impossible to get through here," whispered 
the girl. " Let us go on until we are below the 
bridge. Perhaps we shall find a gap there." 

So, hand in hand lest they become separated in 
the darkness, they worked their way cautiously 
downstream, just out of sight of the line of sentries. 

" Wait ! " whispered Stewart, suddenly. " What 
is that ahead ? " 

Something tall and black and vaguely menacing 
loomed above them into the night. 

" The church tower ! " breathed the girl, after a 
moment. " See — ^there are ruins all about it — it is 
the village they burned." 

They hesitated. Should they enter it, or try to go 
around? There was something sinister and threat- 
ening about these roofless, blackened walls which had 
once been homes; but to go around meant climbing 
cliffs, meant breathless scrambling — above all, meant 
loss of time. 

" We must risk it," said the girl, at last. " We 
can come back if the place is guarded." 

Their hands instinctively tightened their clasp as 
they stole forward into the shadow of the houses, 
along what had once been a street, but was now lit- 



236 LITTLE COMRADE 

tered and blocked with fallen walls and debris of 
every kind, some of it still smouldering. Every- 
where there was the stench of half-burned wood, and 
another stench, more penetrating, more nauseating. 

Stewart was staring uneasily about him, telling 
himself that that stench could not possibly be what 
it seemed, when his companion's hand squeezed his 
and dragged him quickly aside against a wall. 

" Down, down ! " she breathed, and they cowered 
together behind a mass of fallen masonry. 

Then Stewart peered out, cautiously. Yes, there 
was someone coming. Far down the street ahead of 
them a tiny light flashed, disappeared, flashed again, 
and disappeared. 

Crowding close together, they buried themselves 
deeper in the ruins and waited. 

At last they could hear steps — 'Slow, cautious 
steps, full of fear — and the light appeared again, 
dancing from side to side. It seemed to be a small 
lantern, carefully shaded, so that only a narrow 
beam of light escaped; and that beam was sent danc- 
ing from side to side along the street, in dark cor- 
ners, under fallen doorways. 

Suddenly it stopped, and Stewart's heart leaped 
sickeningly as he saw that the beam rested on a face 
— a white face, staring up with sightless eyes. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 237 

The light approached, hung above it — a living 
hand caught up the dead one, on which there was 
the gleam of gold, a knife flashed 

And then, from the darkness almost beside them, 
four darts of flame stabbed toward the kneeling 
figure, and the ruins rocked with a great explo- 
sion. 

When Stewart opened his eyes again, he saw a 
squad of soldiers, each armed with an electric torch, 
standing about the body of the robber of the dead, 
while their sergeant emptied his pockets. There 
were rings — one still encircling a severed finger — 
money, a watch, trinkets of every sort, some of them 
quite worthless. 

The man was in uniform, and the sergeant, rip- 
ping open coat and shirt, drew out the little identi- 
fying tag of metal which hung about his neck, broke 
it from its string, and thrust it into his pocket. Then 
he gathered the booty into his handkerchief, tied the 
ends together with a satisfied grunt, and gave a 
gruff command. The lights vanished and the squad 
stumbled ahead into the darkness. 

There was a moment's silence. Stewart's nerves 
were quivering so that he could scarcely control them 
— he could feel his mouth twitching, and put his 
hand up to stop it. 



238 LITTLE COMRADE 

" We can't go on," he muttered. " We must go 
back. This is too horrible — it is unbearable ! " 

Together they stole tremblingly out of the ruin, 
along the littered street, past the church-tower, 
across the road, over the wall, back into the clean 
fields. There they flung themselves down gaspingly, 
side by side. 

How sweet the smell of the warm earth, after the 
stench of the looted town ! How calm and lovely the 
stars. 

Stewart, staring up at them, felt a great serenity 
descend upon him. After all, what did it matter to 
the universe — ^this trivial disturbance upon this tiny 
planet? Men might kill each other, nations disap- 
pear ; but the stars would swing on in their courses, 
the constellations go their predestined ways. Of 
what significance was man in the great scheme of 
things ? How absurd the pomp of kings and kaisers, 
how grotesque their assumption of greatness ! 

A stifled sob startled him. He groped quickly for 
his comrade, and found her lying prone, her face 
buried in her arms. He drew her close and held her 
as he might have held a child. After all, she was 
scarcely more than that — a child, delicate and sensi- 
tive. As a child might, she pillowed her head upon 
his breast and lay there sobbing softly. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 239 

But the sobs ceased presently ; he could feel how 
she struggled for self-control ; and at last she turned 
in his arms and lay staring up at the heavens. 

" That's right," he said. " Look up at the stars ! 
That helps ! " and it seemed to him, in spite of the 
tramp of feet and the rattle of wheels and curses of 
savage drivers, that they were alone together in 
the midst of things, and that nothing else mat- 
tered. 

" How sublime they are ! " she whispered. " How 
they calm and strengthen one ! They seem to under- 
stand ! " She turned her face and looked at him. 
" You too have understood! " she said, very softly; 
then gently disengaged his arms and sat erect. 

" Do you know," said Stewart, slowly, " what we 
saw back there has revived my faith in human na- 
ture — and it needed reviving ! Those men must have 
seen that that scoundrel was a soldier like them- 
selves, yet they didn't hesitate to shoot. Justice still 
lives, then ; a sense of decency can survive, even in 
an army. I had begun to doubt it, and I am glad to 
know that I was wrong." 

" The tenderest, noblest gentleman I ever knew," 
she answered, softly, " was a soldier." 

" Yes," Stewart agreed ; " I have known one or 
two like that." 



240 LITTLE COMRADE 

War was not wholly bad, then. Its fierce flame 
blasted, blackened, tortured — ^but it also refined. It 
had its brutal lusts — ^but it had also its high hero- 
isms! 

The girl at his side stirred suddenly. 

" We must be going," she said. 

" You're sure you are all right again ? " 

" Yes," and she rose quickly. " We must go back 
the way we came." 

They set out again along the edge of the army, 
stumbling across rough fields, crouching behind 
hedges, turning aside to avoid a lighted house where 
some officers were making merry. For perhaps a 
mile they pressed on, with a line of sentries always at 
their right, outlined against the gleam of scattered 
lights. Then, quite suddenly, there were no more 
lights, and they knew that they had reached the limit 
of the encampment. 

Had they also reached the limit of the line of 
sentries? There was no way to make sure; but 
they crept forward to the wall along the highway 
and peered cautiously over. The road seemed empty. 
They crossed it as swiftly and silently as shadows, 
and in a moment were safe behind the wall on the 
other side. 

Beyond it lay the yard of an Iron foundry, with 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 241 

great piles of castings scattered about and a tall 
building looming at their left. In front of it they 
caught the gleam of a sentry's rifle, so they bore 
away to the right until they reached the line of the 
railway running close along the river bank. There 
were sentries here, too, but they were stationed far 
apart and were apparently half-asleep, and the fugi- 
tives had no difficulty in slipping between them. A 
moment later, they had scrambled down a steep bank 
and stood at the edge of the river. 

" And now," whispered Stewart, " to get over." 

He looked out across the water, flowing strong 
and deep, mysterious and impressive in the darkness, 
powerful, unhurried, alert — as if grimly conscious 
of its task, and rejoicing in it; for this stream which 
was holding the Germans back had its origin away 
southward in the heart of France. He could not see 
the other bank, but he knew that it was at least two 
hundred yards away. 

" If we could find a boat! " he added. " We saw 
plenty of them this afternoon." 

" We dare not use a boat," the girl objected. 
" We should be seen and fired upon." 

" Do you mean to swim ? " Stewart demanded. 

" Be more careful ! " she cautioned. " Someone 
may hear us," and she drew him down into the 



242 LITTLE COMRADE 

shadow of the bank. "Unfortunately, I cannot 
swim, but no doubt you can." 

"I'm not what would be called an expert, but I 
think I could swim across this river. However, I 
absolutely refuse to try to take you over. It would 
be too great a risk." 

"If we had a plank or log, I could hold to it 
while you pushed it along. If you grew tired, you 
could rest and drift for a time." 

Stewart considered the plan. It seemed feasible. 
A drifting plank would attract no attention from the 
shore — the river was full of debris from the opera- 
tions around Liege — and, whether they got across or 
not, there would be no danger of either of them 
drowning. And they ought to get over, for it would 
be no great task to work a plank across the stream. 

" Yes, I think I could do that," he said at last. 
" Let us see if we can find a plank." 

There was nothing of the sort along the shore, 
though they searched it for some distance; but oppo- 
site the foundry they came upon a pile of the square 
wooden sand-boxes in which castings are made. 
Stewart, when he saw them, chuckled with satisfac- 
tion. 

" Just the thing ! " he said. " Providence is cer- 
tainly on our side to-night ! " 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 243 

" I hope so ! " breathed the girl, and between them 
they carried one of the boxes down to the edge of the 
water. 

Then, after a moment's hesitation, Stewart sat 
down and began to take off his shoes. 

" We shall have to get rid of our clothing," he 
said, in the most matter-of-fact tone he could muster. 
" There is nothing heavier than clothes when they 
get water-soaked. Besides, we've got to keep them 
dry if we can. If we don't, we shall nearly freeze 
to death after we leave the water — and they'll betray 
us a mile off! " 

The girl stood for a moment staring out across 
the river. Then she sat down with her back to him. 

" You are quite right," she agreed, quietly, and 
bent above her shoes. 

" We'll turn the box upside down and put our 
clothes upon it," went on Stewart, cheerfully. 
" They will keep dry there. The water isn't very 
cold, probably, but we shall be mighty glad to have 
some dry things to get into once we are out of it." 

She did not reply, and Stewart went rapidly on 
with his undressing. When that was finished, he 
rolled his trousers, shoes and underclothing into a 
compact bundle inside his coat, and tied the sleeves 
together. 



244 LITTLE COMRADE 

"Now I'm going to launch the raft," he said. 
" Roll your clothes up inside your coat, so that noth- 
ing white will show, and wade out to me as soon as 
you are ready." 

" Very well," she answered, in a low tone. 

With his bundle under one arm, Stewart turned 
the box over and dragged it into the water. He had 
been shivering in the night air, but the water was 
agreeably warm. Placing his bundle upon the top 
of the box, he pushed it before him out into the 
stream, and was soon breast-deep. Then, holding 
the box against the current, he waited. 

Minute after minute passed, but she did not come. 
He could not see the shore, but he strained his eyes 
toward it, wondering if he should go back, if any- 
thing had happened. So quiet and unquestioning had 
been her acceptance of his plan that he did not 
suspect the struggle waging there on the bank be^ 
tween girlish modesty and grim necessity. 

But, at last, from the mist along the shore, a white 
figure emerged, dim and ghostlike in the darkness, 
and he heard a gentle splashing as she came toward 
him through the water. He raised his arm, to make 
certain that she saw him, then turned his head away. 

Near and nearer came the splashing; then the 
box rocked gently as she placed her clothing on it. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 245. 

" All right? " he asked, softly. 

" Yes," she answered. 

He turned to find her looking up at him from the 
level of the stream, which came just beneath her chin. 
The light of the stars reflected on the water crowned 
her with a misty halo, and again he read in her 
face that sweet and tremulous appeal for respect and 
understanding which had so moved him once before. 
It moved him far more deeply now ; but he managed 
to bite back the words which leaped to his lips and 
to speak almost casually — as though situations such 
as this were the most ordinary in the world. 

" Have you got a firm grip of the handle ? " 

" Yes." 

He assured himself that both bundles of clothing 
were secure. 

" All ready, then," he said. " Just hold on and 
let your body float out in the water. Don't hold 
your head too high, and if you feel your hands slip- 
ping call me at once. I don't want to lose you, little 
comrade ! " 

" I will remember," she promised, smiling grate- 
fully up at him. 

" Then here we go," and he pushed the box slowly 
out into the stream. 

In a moment the water was at his chin. 



246 LITTLE COMRADE 

" All right ? " he asked again. 

" Yes." 

He took another step forward, the current caught 
him and lifted him off his feet, and he began to swim 
easily and slowly. He was not sure of his strength, 
it was a long time since he had done any serious 
swimming, and he knew that he must husband him- 
self. Then, too, the current was stronger than it 
had seemed from the shore, and he found that he 
could make head against it but slowly, for the box 
was of an awkward shape and the girl's body trail- 
ing behind it so much dead weight. 

" Slow but sure," he said, reassuringly, resting 
a moment. " You're quite all right ? " 

" Yes. You must not worry about me." 

He glanced back at the shore, where the lights of 
the camp shone dimly through the mist. 

" We're going to drift right past the camp," he 
said; "but they can't see us, and it will make our 
landing safer if we come out below the troops. It 
would be rather embarrassing, wouldn't it, if we 
found a patrol waiting for us on the bank? Now 
for another swim ! " 

He pushed ahead until he found himself begin- 
ning to tire, then stopped and looked around. 

" There's the bridge ! " he said, suddenly. 



THE PASSAGE OF THE MEUSE 247 

And, sure enough, just ahead, they could see its 
dim shape spanning the stream. A cold fear gripped 
Stewart's heart. Suppose they should be swept 
against one of the abutments ! 

" Take tight hold with both hands," he com- 
manded. " Don't let go, whatever happens ! " 

He swung himself round to the front of the box 
and tried to pierce the gloom ahead. The center of 
the stream would be clear, he told himself, and they 
must be nearly in the center. Then he heard the 
confused tread of many feet, the current seemed to 
quicken, and he glanced up to see that they were al- 
most beneath the bridge. Yes, the stream ahead was 
clear; but what were those lights down along the 
water ? 

And then he saw that a boat was moored there, 
and that a squad of men were strengthening the sup- 
ports with which the engineers had hastily repaired 
the shattered abutment. 

With frenzied energy, he pulled the box around so 
that his companion's head was hidden behind it; 
then, with only his nose out, he floated silently on. 
They would not see him, he told himself ; they were 
too busily at work. Even if they did, they could 
make nothing of this rough shape drifting down the 
river. 



248 LITTLE COMRADE 

Nevertheless, as they swept within the circle of 
light cast by the flaring torches, Stewart, taking a 
deep breath, let himself sink below the surface; 
and not until the blood was singing in his ears did 
he come up again. 

They had passed ! They were safe ! He drew a 
deep breath. Then he peered around the box. 

"Are you there? Are you all right?" 

" Yes," came the soft answer. " Never tell me 
again that you are not a fighter ! " 

" Compliments are barred until we are safe in 
Belgium ! " he reminded her gayly. " But it's clear 
sailing now ! " 

He struck out again, pushing diagonally forward 
toward the bank which he could not see, but which 
could not be far away. This was not going to prove 
such a desperate adventure, after all. The worst 
was over, for, once on land, far below the German 
troops, they had only to push forward to find them- 
selves among friends. 

Then his heart stood still as a shrill scream rent 
the night — a woman's scream of deadly horror — and 
he jerked his head around to find that his comrade 
was no longer there. 



CHAPTER XIV 
THE LAST DASH 

Never will Stewart forget the stark horror of that 
instant ; never afterward did he think of it without a 
shudder. It was one of those instants — fortunately 
few — which stamp themselves indelibly upon the 
brain, which penetrate the spirit, which leave a mark 
not to be effaced. 

It was the flash of her white arm, as she sank for 
the second time, that saved her. Instinctively Stew- 
art clutched at it, seized it, regained the box at a 
vigorous stroke, threw one arm across a handle, and 
raised her head above the water. 

Her face was white as death, her eyes were closed, 
she hung a dead weight upon his arm — and yet, 
Stewart told himself, she could not have drowned 
in so short a time. She had been under water only 
a few seconds. Perhaps she had been wounded — 
but he had heard no shot. His teeth chattered as he 
looked at her, she lay so still, so deathlike. 

And then he remembered that shrill scream of ut- 
349 



250 LITTLE COMRADE 

ter horror. Why had she screamed? What was 
it had wrung from her that terrible cry ? Had some 
awful thing touched her, seized her, tried to drag 
her down? 

Shivering with fear, Stewart looked out across the 
water. Was there something lurking in those depths 
— some horror — some unthinkable monster 

He shook himself impatiently; he must not give 
way to his nerves. Holding her face back, he 
splashed some water into it, gently at first, then more 
violently. She was not dead — she had only fainted. 
A touch on her temple assured him that her heart 
was beating. 

He must have been unconsciously paddling against 
the current, for something touched him gently on the 
shoulder — a piece of driftwood, perhaps; and then 
he was suddenly conscious that it was not driftwood 
— that it was soft, hairy 

He spun around, to find himself staring down into 
a pair of unseeing eyes, set in a face so puffed and 
leprous as to be scarcely human. 

How he repressed the yell of terror that rose in 
his throat he never knew ; but he did repress it some- 
how, and creeping with horror, pushed the box 
quickly to one side. But the bloated body, caught in 
the swirl of his wake, turned and followed, with 



JHE LAST DASH 251 

an appearance of malignant purpose which sent a 
chill up Stewart's spine. Kicking f renziedly, he held 
the box back against the current, and for an instant 
fancied that his hideous pursuer was holding back 
also. But, after what seemed like a moment's hesi- 
tation, it drifted on down the stream and vanished 
in the darkness. 

For a moment longer, Stewart stared after it, 
half-expecting it to reappear and bear down upon 
him. Then, with an anguished breath of relief, he 
stopped swimming and looked down at the face upon 
his arm. So that was the horror which had beset 
her. She had felt it nuzzling against her, had turned 
as he had done ! No wonder she had screamed ! 

He felt her bosom rise and fall with a quick gasp ; 
then her eyes opened and gazed up at him. For an 
instant they gazed vacantly and wildly, then a flood 
of crimson swept from chin to brow, and she strug- 
gled to free herself from his encircling arm. 

" Easy now ! " Stewart protested. " Are you sure 
you're all right? Are you sure you're strong enough 
to hold on?" 

" Yes, yes ! " she panted. " Let me go ! " 

He guided her fingers to the handles, assured 
himself that she grasped them firmly, then released 
her and swam to his old position on the other side 



25* LITTLE COMRADE 

of the box. For a moment they floated on in silence. 

" How foolish of me ! " she said, at last, in a 
choking voice. " I suppose you saved my life ! " 

" Oh, I just grabbed you by the arm and held on 
to you till you came to." 

"Did I scream?" 

" I should rather think so ! Scared me nearly to 
death!" 

" I could not help it ! I was frightened. It was — 
it was " 

" I know," said Stewart, quickly. " I saw it. 
Don't think about it — it has gone on downstream." 

" It — 'it seemed to be following me ! " she gasped. 

" Yes — I had the same feeling ; but it's away 
ahead of us now. Now, if you're all right, we'll 
work in toward the bank — it can't be far off. Hullo ! 
What's that?" 

A shadowy shape emerged from the darkness 
along the eastern shore, and they caught the rattle 
of oars in row-locks. 

"They heard you scream," whispered Stewart. 
" They've sent out a patrol to investigate," and with 
all his strength he pushed on toward the farther 
bank. 

Suddenly a shaft of light shot from the bow of the 
boat out across the water, sweeping up and down, 



THE LAST DASH 253 

dwelling upon this piece of driftwood and upon that. 
With a gasp of apprehension, Stewart swung the box 
around so that it screened them from the search- 
light, and kept on swimming with all his strength. 

" If they spot those bundles," he panted, " they'll 
be down upon us like a load of brick ! Ah ! " 

The light was upon them. Above their heads the 
bundles of clothing stood out as if silhouetted agairist 
the midday sky. Stewart cursed his folly in placing 
them there; surely wet clothes were preferable to 
capture! He should not have taken the risk — he 
should have put the clothing inside the box and let 
it take its chance. But it was too late now. In 
another moment ■ 

The light swept on. 

From sheer reaction, Stewart's body dropped 
limply for an instant through the water, and then 
rebounded as from an electric shock. 

" I can touch bottom ! " he said, hoarsely. " We'll 
get there yet. Hold fast ! " 

Setting his teeth, digging his toes into the mud, he 
dragged the box toward the shore with all his 
strength. In a moment, the water was only to his 
shoulders — to his chest — he could see that his com- 
rade was wading, too, 

He stopped, peering anxiously ahead. There was 



254 LITTLE COMRADE 

no light anywhere along the shore, and no sound 
broke the stillness. 

" It seems all right," he whispered. " I will go 
ahead and make sure. If it is safe, you will hear me 
whistle. Keep behind the box, for fear that search- 
light will sweep this way again, and when I whistle, 
come straight out. You understand?" 

" Yes." 

" Good-by, then, for a moment, little comrade ! " 

" Good-by." 

With one look deep into her eyes, he snatched up 
the bundle containing his clothing, and crouching as 
low in the water as he could, set oflf cautiously 
toward the shore. There was a narrow strip of 
gravel just ahead, and behind that a belt of darkness 
which, he told himself, was a wood. He could see 
no sign of any sentry. 

As he turned at the water's edge, he noticed a 
growing band of light over the hills to the east, and 
knew that the moon was rising. There was no time 
to lose ! He whistled softly and began hastily to 
dress. 

Low as the whistle was, it reached the boat — or 
perhaps it was mere chance that brought the search- 
light sweeping round just, as the girl rose in the 
water and started toward the shore. The light 



THE LAST DASH 255 

swept past her, swept back again, and stopped full 
upon the flying figure, as slim and graceful as 
Diana's. 

There was a hoarse shout from the boat, and the 
splash of straining oars; and then Stewart was 
dashing forward into the water, was by her side, had 
caught her hand and was dragging her toward the 
bank. 

" Go on ! Go on ! " he cried, and paused to pick 
up his shoes, for the sharp gravel warned him, that, 
with unprotected feet, flight would be impossible. 
His coat lay beside them and he grabbed that too. 
Then he was up again and after her, across the 
cruel stones of the shore, toward the darkness of the 
wood and safety — one yard — two yards 

And always the searchlight beat upon them merci- 
lessly. 

There came a roar of rifles from the river, a 
flash of flame, the whistle of bullets about his ears. 

And then they were in the wood and he had her 
by the hand. 

'' Not hurt ? " he gasped. 

"No, no I" 

" Thank heaven ! We are safe for a moment. 
Get on some clothes — especially your shoes. We 
can't run barefooted ! " 



<2S6 LITTLE COMRADE 

He was fumbling with his own shoes as he spoke 
^■managed to thrust his bruised feet into them — 
stuffed his socks into the pocket of his coat and 
slipped into it. 

"Ready? "he asked. 

" In a moment ! " 

And then he felt her hand in his. 

"Which way?" 

He glanced back through the trees. The boat 
was at the bank; its occupants were leaping out, 
rifles in hand; the searchlight swept up and down. 

" This way, I think ! " and he guided her diago- 
nally to the right. " Go carefully ! The less noise 
we make the better. But as long as those fellows 
keep on shooting, they can't hear us." 

Away they went, stumbling, scrambling, bending 
low to escape the overhanging branches, saving each 
other from some ugly falls — up a long incline cov- 
ered by an open wood, across a little glade, over a 
wall, through another strip of woodland, into a road, 
over another wall — and then Stewart gave a gasp of 
relief, for they were in a field of grain. 

" We shall be safe here," he said, as they plunged 
into it. " I will watch, while you finish dressing," 
and he faced back toward the way they had come. 

The full moon was sailing high above the eastern 



THE LAST DASH 257 

hills, and he could see distinctly the wall they had 
just crossed, with the white road behind it, and be- 
yond that the dense shadow of the wood. It was on 
the strip of road he kept his eyes, but no living 
creature crossed it, and at last he felt a touch upon 
his arm. 

" My turn now ! " the girl whispered. 

Stewart sat down upon the ground, wiped the mud 
from his feet, shook the gravel from his shoes, drew 
on his socks and laced his shoes properly. As he 
started to get up, he felt a sudden sharp twinge in 
his shoulder. 

" What is it ? " asked the girl, quickly, for an ex- 
clamation of pain had burst from him before he 
could choke it back. 

" Nothing at all ! " he said, and rose, gingerly. 
" I touched a raw place, where a briar scratched me. 
I seem to be composed largely of raw places — espe- 
cially as to my feet. How are yours ? " 

" One of them hurts a little — not enough to men- 
tion." 

" You're sure you can walk? " 

" Certainly — or run, if need be." 

" Then we had better push on a little farther. 
The Germans are still too close for comfort. Keep 
your back to the moon^I'll act as rear-guard." 



258 LITTLE COMRADE 

For a moment she looked up questioningly into his 
face. 

" You are sure you are not hurt? " she asked, 

" Perfectly sure." 

" I was afraid you had been shot — I saw how you 
placed yourself between me and the river ! " 

" The merest accident," he assured her. " Be- 
sides, those fellows couldn't shoot ! " 

She gazed up at him yet a moment, her lips quiv- 
ering ; then she turned and started westward through 
the field. 

Falling in behind, Stewart explored his wounded 
shoulder cautiously with his fingers. He could feel 
that his shirt was wet with blood, but the stabbing 
pain had been succeeded by a sharp stinging which 
convinced him that it was only a flesh-wound. 
Folding his shirt back, he found it at last, high in 
the shoulder above the collar-bone. 

" That was lucky ! " he told himself, as he pressed 
his handkerchief over it, rebuttoned his shirt, and 
pushed on after his comrade. " Half an inch lower 
and the bone would have been smashed ! " 

Away to the south, they could hear the thunder 
of the Liege forts, and Stewart, aching from his own 
slight injury, thought with a shudder of the poor 
fellows who had to face that deadly fire. No doubt 



THE LAST DASH 259 

it was to this fresh attack the troops had been 
marched which they had seen crossing the river. It 
was improbable that the invaders would risk pushing 
westward until the forts were reduced; and so, 
when the fugitives came presently to a road which 
ran northwestwardly, they ventured to follow it. 

" We would better hide somewhere and rest till 
daylight," Stewart suggested, at last. " We have 
had a hard day." 

He himself was nearly spent with fatigue and 
hunger, and his shoulder was stiff and sore. 

" Very well," the girl agreed. " I too am very 
tired. Where shall we go?" 

Stewart stopped and looked about him. 

On one side of the road was a level pasture af- 
fording no shelter ; on the other side, a rolling field 
mounted to a strip of woodland. 

"At the edge of those trees would be the best 
place," he decided, and the girl agreed with a nod. 

Laboriously they clambered over the wall beside 
the road and set off toward this refuge. The field 
was very rough and seemed interminable, and more 
than once Stewart thought that he must drop where 
he stood; but they reached the wood at last and threw 
themselves down beneath the first clump of under- 
growth. 



26o LITTLE COMRADE 

Stewart was asleep almost before he touched the 
ground; but the girl lay for a long time with eyes 
open, staring up into the night. Then, very softly, 
she crawled to Stewart's side, raised herself on one 
elbow and looked down into his face. 

It was not at all the' face of the man she had met 
at the Kolner Hof two days before. It was thinner 
and paler; there were dark circles of exhaustion 
under the eyes; a stubbly beard covered the haggard 
cheeks, across one of which was an ugly scratch. 
Yet the girl seemed to find it beautiful. Her eyes 
filled with tears as she gazed at it; she brushed 
back a lock of hair that had fallen over the fore- 
head, and bent as though to press a kiss there — ^but 
stopped, with a quick shake of the head, and drew 
away. 

"Not yet!" she whispered. "Not yet!" and 
crawling a little way apart, she lay down again 
among the bushes. 

Again Stewart awoke with the sun in his eyes, and 
after a moment's confused blinking, he looked 
around to find himself alone. 

The dull pain in his shoulder as he sat up reminded 
him of his wound. Crawling a little distance back 
among the bushes, he slipped out of his coat. 



THE LAST DASH 261 

His shirt was soaked with blood half-way down the 
right side — a good sign, Stewart told himself. He 
knew how great a show a little blood can make, 
and he was glad that the wound had bled freely. He 
unbuttoned his shirt and gingerly pulled it back 
from the shoulder, for the blood had dried in places 
and stuck fast; then he removed the folded hand- 
kerchief, and the wound lay revealed. 

He could just see it by twisting his head around, 
and he regarded it with satisfaction, for, as he had 
thought, it was not much more than a scratch. A 
bullet had grazed the shoulder-bone, plowed through 
the muscle and sped on its way, leaving behind, as 
the only sign of its passage, a tiny black mark. 

" You are wounded ! " cried a strangled voice, and 
in an instant his comrade was on her knees beside 
him, her face pale, her lips working. " And you 
did not tell me ! Oh, cruel, cruel ! " 

There was that in the voice, in the eyes, in the 
trembling lips which sent Stewart's heart leaping 
into his throat. But, by a mighty effort, he kept 
his arms from around her. 

" Nonsense ! " he said, as lightly as he could. 
" That's not a wound — it is just a scratch. This one 
across my cheek hurts a blamed sight worse! If I 
could only wash it ■" 



262 LITTLE COMRADE 

" There is a little stream back yonder," she said, 
and sprang to her feet. " Come ! Or perhaps you 
cannot walk ! " and she put her arms around him to 
help him up. 

He rose with a laugh. 

" Really," he protested, " I don't see how a scratch 
on the shoulder could affect my legs ! " 

But she refused to make a jest of it. 

" The blood — it frightens me. Are you very 
weak ? " she asked, anxiously, holding tight to him, 
as though he might collapse at any instant. 

" If I am," said Stewart, " it is from want of 
food, not from loss of blood. I haven't lost a spoon- 
ful. Ah, here's the brook! " 

He knelt beside it, while she washed the blood 
from his handkerchief and tenderly bathed the in- 
jured shoulder, Stewart watched her with fast- 
beating heart. Surely she cared; surely there was 
more than friendly concern in that white face, in 
those quivering lips. Well, very soon now, he 
could put it to the touch. He trembled at the 
thought : would he win or lose ? 

" Am I hurting you ? " she asked, anxiously, for 
she had felt him quiver. 

" Not a bit — the cool water feels delightful. You 
see it is only a scratch," he added, when-the clotted 



THE LAST DASH 263 

blood had been cleared away. " It will be quite well 
in two or three days. I sha'n't even have a scar! 
I think it might have left a scar ! What's the use of 
being wounded, if one hasn't a scar to show for it ? 
And I shall probably never be under fire again ! " 

She smiled wanly, and a little color crept back 
into her face. 

" How you frightened me ! " she said. " I came 
through the bushes and saw you sitting there, all 
covered with blood! You might have told me — it 
was foolish to lie there all night without binding it 
up. Suppose you had bled to death ! " and she 
wrung out the handkerchief, shook it out in the 
breeze until it was nearly dry, and bound it tightly 
over the wound. " How does that feel ? " 

" It feels splendid ! Really it does," he added, 
seeing that she regarded him doubtfully. "If I 
feel the least little twinge of pain, I will notify 
you instantly. I give you my word ! " 

They sat for a moment silent, gazing into each 
other's eyes. It was the girl who stirred first. 

" I will go to the edge of the wood and recon- 
noiter," she said, rising a little unsteadily, " while 
you wash your hands and face. Or shall I stay and 
help?" 

" No," said Stewart, " thank you. I think I am 



264 LITTLE COMRADE 

still able to wash my own face — ^that is, if you think 
it's any use to wash it ! " and he ran his fingers along 
his stubbly jaws. " Do you think you will like 
me with a beard ? " 

" With a beard or without one, it is all the same ! " 
she answered, softly, and slipped quickly away 
among the trees, leaving Stewart to make what he 
could of this cryptic utterance. 

Despite his gnawing hunger, despite his stiff 
shoulder and sore muscles, he was very, very happy 
as he bent above the clear water and drank deep, and 
bathed hands and face. How good it was to be 
alive ! How good it was to be just here this glori- 
ous morning ! With no man on earth would he have 
changed places! 

He did not linger over his toilet. Every moment 
away from his comrade was a moment lost. He 
found her sitting at the edge of the wood, gazing 
down across the valley, her hair stirring slightly in 
the breeze, her whole being radiant with youth. He 
looked at her for a moment, and then he looked down 
at himself. 

" What a scarecrow I am," he said, and ruefully 
contemplated a long tear in his coat — ^merely the 
largest of half a dozen. " And I lost ray collar in 
that dash last night—I left it on the bank, and didn't 



THE LAST DASH 265 

dare stop to look for it. Even if we met the Ger- 
mans now, there would be no danger — ^they would 
take us for tramps ! " 

" I know I look like a scarecrow," she laughed ; 
" but you might have spared telling me ! " 

" You ! " cried Stewart. " A scarecrow ! Oh, no ; 
you would attract the birds. They would find you 
adorable ! " 

His eyes added that not alone to the birds was she 
adorable. 

She cast one glance at him — a luminous glance, 
shy yet glad; abashed yet rejoicing. Then she 
turned away. 

" There is a village over yonder," she said. " We 
can get something to eat there, and find out where 
we are. Listen! What is that?" 

Away to the south a dull rumbling shook the hori- 
zon — a mighty shock as of an earthquake. 

" The Germans have got their siege-guns into posi- 
tion," he said. " They are attacking Liege again." 

Yes, there could be no doubt of it; murder and 
desolation were stalking across the country to the 
south. But nothing could be more peaceful than the 
fields which stretched before them. 

" There is no danger here," said Stewart, and led 
the way down across the rough pasture to the road. 



266 LITTLE COMRADE 

As he mounted the wall, moved by some strange 
uneasiness, he stopped to look back toward the east; 
but the road stretched white and empty until it 
plunged into a strip of woodland a mile away. 

Somehow he was not reassured. With that 
strange uneasiness still weighing on him, a sense of 
oppression as of an approaching storm, he sprang 
down beside the girl, and they set off westward side 
by side. At first they could not see the village, 
which was hid by a spur of rising ground ; then, at 
a turn of the road, they found it close in front of 
them. 

But the road was blocked with fallen trees, strung 
with barbed wire — ^and what was that queer embank- 
ment of fresh, yellow earth which stretched to right 
and left? 

"The Belgians!" cried the girl. "Come! We 
are safe at last!" and she started to run forward. 

But only for an instant. As though that cry of 
hers was an awaited signal, there came a crash of 
musketry from the wooded ridge to the right, and 
an answering crash from the crest of the embank- 
ment ; and Stewart saw that light and speeding figure 
spin half round, crumple in upon itself, and drop 
limply to the road. 



CHAPTER XV 
DISASTER 

He was beside her in an instant, his arm around her, 
raising her. He scarcely heard the guns ; he scarcely 
heard the whistle of the bullets; he knew only, as he 
knelt there in the road, that his little comrade had 
been stricken down. 

Where was she wounded? 

Not in the head, thank God ! Not in the throat, so 
white and delicate. The breast, perhaps, and with 
trembling fingers he tore aside the coat. 

She opened her eyes and looked dazedly up at 
him. 

" Q'^'y 0,-t-il^ " she murmured. Then her vision 
cleared. " What is the matter ? " she asked in a 
stronger voice. 

" You've been hit," he panted. " Do you feel 
pain?" 

She closed her eyes for an instant. 

" No," she answered; " but my left leg is numb, as 

if " 

267 



268 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Pray heaven it is only in the leg ! I must get 
you somewhere out of this." He raised his head to 
look around, and was suddenly conscious of the 
banging guns. " Damn these lunatics ! Oh, damn 
them ! " 

The ridges on either side were rimmed with fire. 
He cast a glance behind him and his heart stood still, 
for a troop of cavalry was deploying into the road. 
Forward, then, to the village, since that was the only 
way. 

He stooped to lift her. 

" I may hurt you a little," he said. 

" What are you going to do ? " 

" I'm going to carry you to the village. Here, 
wave your handkerchief to show them that we are 
friends," and he drew it from her pocket and thrust 
it into her hand. " Now, your arm about my neck." 

She obeyed mutely; then, as he straightened up, 
she saw, over his shoulder, the cavalry forming for 
the charge. 

" No, no ! " she cried. " Put me down. Here are 
the letters ! See, I am placing them in your pocket ! 
Now, put me down and save yourself ! " 

He was picking his way forward over the barbed 
wire. He dared not lift his eyes from the road 
even for a glance at her. 



DISASTER 269 

" Be still ! " he commanded. " Don't struggle so ! 
I will not put you down ! Wave the handkerchief ! " 

" There is cavalry down yonder," she protested, 
wildly. " It will charge in a moment ! " 

" I know it ! That's one reason I will not put you 
down I " 

He was past the wire ; he could look at her for an 
instant — into her eyes, so close to his ; deep into her 
eyes, dark with fear and pain. 

" Another reason is," he said, deliberately, " that 
I love you ! I am telling you now because I want you 
to know, if this should be the end ! I love you, love 
you, love you ! " 

He was forced to look away from her, for there 
were fallen trees in front, but he felt the arm around 
his neck tighten. 

And then he bent his head and kissed her. 

" Like that ! " he said, hoarsely. " Only a thou- 
sand times more than that — a million times more 
than that ! " 

She pulled herself up until her cheek was pressed 
to his ; and her eyes were like twin stars. 

" And I ! " she whispered. " A million times more 
than that. Oh, my prince, my lover!" 

Stewart's veins ran fire. His fatigue dropped 
from him. He trod on air. He threw back his head 



270 LITTLE COMRADE 

proudly, for he felt himself invincible. He was 
contemptuous of fate — it could not harm him now ! 

" And yet you wanted me to put you down ! " he 
mocked. 

She snuggled against him, warm and womanly; 
she gave herself to him. 

" Oh, hold me close ! " she seemed to say. " Hold 
me close, close ! I am yours now ! " 

" Wave' the handkerchief ! " he added. " We're 
getting near the barricade. Life is too sweet to end 
just yet!" 

She smiled up into his eyes, and waved the hand- 
kerchief at arm's length above their heads. Stew- 
art, glancing up, saw a row of faces crowned by 
queer black shakos peering curiously down from the 
top of the barricade. 

" They have seen us ! " he said. " They're not 
firing! They understand that we are friends! 
Courage, little comrade ! " 

" I am not afraid," she smiled. " And I love that 
name — little comrade ! " 

" Here are the last entanglements — and then we're 
through. What is that cavalry doing? " 

She gave a little cry as she looked back along the 
road. At the same instant, Stewart heard the thun- 
der of galloping hoofs. 



DISASTER 271 

" They are coming ! " she screamed. " Oh, put 
me down ! Put me down ! " 

" Not I ! " gasped Stewart between his teeth, and 
glanced over his shoulder. 

The Uhlans were charging in solid mass, their 
lances couched. 

There was just one chance of escape — Stewart 
saw it instantly. Holding the girl close, he leaped 
into the ditch beside the road and threw himself 
flat against the ground, shielding her with his body. 

In an instant the thunder of the charge was upon 
him. Then, high above the rattle of guns, rose the 
shouts of men, the screams of horses, the savage 
shock of the encounter. Something rolled upon 
him, — lay quivering against him — a wounded man — 
a dead one, perhaps — in any event, he told himself, 
grimly, so much added protection. Pray heaven that 
a maddened horse did not tramp them down ! 

The tumult died, the firing slackened. What was 
that? A burst of cheering? 

Stewart ventured to raise his head and look about 
him; then, with a gasp, he threw off the weight, 
caught up his companion and staggered to his feet. 
Yes ; it was a body which had fallen upon him. It 
rolled slowly over on its back as he arose, and he saw 
a ghastly wound between the eyes. 



272 LITTLE COMRADE 

" They have been repulsed ! " he panted. " Wave 
the handkerchief ! " With his heart straining in his 
throat, he clambered out of the ditch and staggered 
on. " Don't look ! " he added, for the road was 
strewn with horrors. " Don't look ! " 

She gazed up at him, smiling calmly. 

" I shall look only at you, my lover ! " she said, 
softly, and Stewart tightened his grip and held her 
close ! 

There was the barricade, with cheering men atop 
it, exposing themselves with utter recklessness to the 
bullets which still whistled from right and left. 
Stewart felt his knees trembling. Could he reach it ? 
Could he lift his foot over this entanglement ? Could 
he possibly step across this body? 

Suddenly he felt his burden lifted from him and 
a strong arm thrown about his shoulders. 

" Friends ! " he gasped. " We're friends ! " 

Then he heard the girl's clear voice speaking in 
rapid French, and men's voices answering eagerly. 
The mist cleared a little from before his eyes, and 
he found that the arm about his shoulders belonged 
to a stocky Belgian soldier who was leading him past 
one end of the barricade, close behind another who 
bore the girl in his arms. 

At the other side an officer stopped them. 



DISASTER 273 

"Who are you?" he asked in French. "From 
where do you come? " 

" We are friends," said the girl. " We have fled 
from Germany. We have both been wounded." 

" Yes," said Stewart, and showed his blood- 
stained shirt. " Mine is only a scratch, but my 
comrade needs attention." 

A sudden shout from the top of the barricade 
told that the Uhlans were re-forming. 

" You must look out for yourselves," said the offi- 
cer. " I will hear your story later," and he bounded 
back to his place beside his men. 

The soldier who was carrying the girl dropped her 
abruptly into Stewart's arms and followed his cap- 
tain. In an instant the firing recommenced. 

Stewart looked wildly about him. He was in a 
village street, with close-built houses on either side. 

" I must find a wagon," he gasped, " or some- 
thing " 

His breath failed him, but he staggered on. The 
mist was before his eyes again, his tongue seemed 
dry and swollen. 

Suddenly the arm about his neck relaxed, the 
head fell back— — 

He cast one haggard glance down into the white 
face, then turned through the nearest doorway. 



274 LITTLE COMRADE 

Perhaps she was wounded more seriously than he 
had thought — ^perhaps she had not told him. He 
must see — he must make sure 

He found himself in a tiled passage, opening into 
a low-ceilinged room lighted by a single window. 
For an instant, in the semi-darkness, he stared 
blindly; then he saw a low settle against the far- 
ther wall, and upon this he gently laid his burden. 

Before he could catch himself, he had fallen 
heavily to the floor, and lay there for a moment, too 
weak to rise. But the weakness passed. With set 
teeth, he pulled himself to his knees, got out his 
knife, found, with his fingers, the stain of blood 
above the wound in the leg, and quickly ripped away 
the cloth. 

The bullet had passed through the thickness of 
the thigh, leaving a tiny puncture. With a sob of 
thankfulness, he realized that the wound was not 
dangerous. Blood was still oozing slowly from it — 
it must be washed and dressed. 

He found a pail of water in the kitchen, snatched 
a sheet from a bed in another room, and set to 
work. The familiar labor steadied him, the mists 
cleared, his muscles again obeyed his will, the sense 
of exhaustion passed. 

" It is only a scratch ! " whispered a voice, and he 



DISASTER 275 

turned sharply to find her smiling up at him. " It 
is just a scratch like yours ! " 

" It is much more than a scratch ! " he said, 
sternly. " You must lie still, or you will start the 
bleeding." 

" Tyrant ! " she retorted, and then she raised her 
head and looked to see what he was doing. " Oh ! 
is it there ? " she said, in surprise. " I didn't feel it 
there!" 

" Where did you feel it ? " Stewart demanded. 
" Not in the body ? Tell me the truth ! " 

" It seemed to me to be somewhere below the knee. 
But how savage j''ou are ! " 

" I'm savage because you are hurt. • I can't stand 
it to see you sufifer ! " and with lips compressed, he 
bandaged the wound with some strips torn from the 
sheet. Then he ran his fingers down over the calf, 
and brought them away stained with blood. He 
caught up his knife and ripped the cloth clear down. 

" Really," she protested, " I shall not have any 
clothing left, if you keep on like that 1 I do not see 
how I am going to appear in public as it is ! " 

He grimly washed the blood away without reply- 
ing. On either side of the calf, he found a tiny 
black spot where the second bullet had passed 
through. 



276 LITTLE COMRADE 

" These German bullets seem to be about the size 
of peas," he remarked, as he bandaged the leg; then 
he raised his head and listened, as the firing out- 
side rose to a furious crescendo. " They're at it 
again ! " he added. " We must be getting out of 
this!" 

She reached up, caught him by the coat, and drew 
him down to her. 

"Listen," she said. "The letters are in your 
pocket. Should we be separated " 

" We will not be separated," he broke in, impa- 
tiently. " Do you suppose I would permit anything 
to separate us now ? " 

" I know, dear one," she said, softly. " But if 
we should be, you will carry the letters to General 
Joflfre? Oh, do not hesitate! " she cried. " Prom- 
ise me ! They mean so much to me — ^my life's work 
— all my ambitions — all my hopes——" 

" Very well," he said. " I promise." 

" You have not forgotten the sign and the for- 
mula?" 

" No." 

She passed an arm about his neck and drew him 
still closer. 

" Kiss me I " she whispered. * 

And Stewart, shaken, transported, deliriously 



DISASTER 277 

happy, pressed his lips to hers in a long, close, pas- 
sionate embrace. 

At last she drew her arm away. 

" I am very tired," she whispered, smiling dream- 
ily up at him; " and very, very happy. I do not be- 
lieve I can go on, dear one." 

" I will get a wagon of some kind — a hand-cart, 
if nothing better. There must be ambulances some- 
where about^ " 

He paused, listening, for the firing at the barri- 
cade had started furiously aigain. 

" I will be back in a moment," he said, and ran 
to the street door and looked out. As he did so, a 
wounded soldier hobbled past, using his rifle as a 
crutch. 

" How goes it ? " Stewart inquired, in French. 

" We hold them ofif," answered the soldier, smil- 
ing cheerfully, though his face was drawn with 
pain. 

" Will they break through? " 

" No. Our reenforcements are coming up," and 
the little soldier hobbled away down the street. 

" I should have asked him where the ambulances 
are," thought Stewart. He glanced again toward 
the barricade. The firing had slackened; evidently 
the assailants had again been repulsed. Yes, there 



278 LITTLE COMRADE 

was time, and he darted down the street after the 
limping soldier. He was at his side in a moment. 
" Where are the ambulances ? " he asked. 

The soldier, turning to reply, glanced back along 
the street and his face went livid. 

" Ah, good God ! " he groaned. " Look yonder ! " 

And, looking, Stewart beheld a gray-green flood 
pouring over the barricade, beheld the flash of red- 
dened bayonets, beheld the little band of Belgians 
swept backward. 

With a cry of anguish, he sprang back along the 
street, but in an instant the tide was upon him. He 
fought against it furiously, striking, cursing, pray- 
ing 

And suddenly he found himself face to face with 
the Belgian officer, blood-stained, demoniac, shout- 
ing encouragement to his men. His eyes flashed 
with amazement when he saw Stewart. 

" Go back ! Go back ! " he shouted. 

" My comrade is back there ! " panted Stewart, 
and tried to pass. 

But the officer caught his arm. 

"Madman!" he cried. "It is death to go that 
way ! " 

"What is that to me?" retorted Stewart, and 
\vrenched his arm away. 



DISASTER 279 

The officer watched him for an instj;nt, then 
turned away with a shrug. After all, he reflected, it 
was none of his affair; his task was to hold the Ger- 
mans back, and he threw himself into it. 

" Steady, men ! " he shouted. " Steady ! Our 
reserves are coming ! " 

And his men cheered and held a firm front, though 
it cost them dear — so firm and steady that Stewart 
found he could not get past it, but was carried back 
foot by foot, too exhausted to resist, entangled hope- 
lessly in the retreat. The Germans pressed forward, 
filling the street from side to side, compact, irresist- 
ible. 

And then the Belgians heard behind them the gal- 
lop of horses, the roll of heavy wheels, and their cap- 
tain, glancing back, saw that a quick-firer had swung^ 
into position in the middle of the street. 

" Steady, men ! " he shouted. " We have them 
now ! Steady till I give the word ! " He glanced 
back again and caught the gun-captain's nod. 
" Now ! To the side and back ! " he screamed. 

The men, with a savage cheer, sprang to right and 
left, into doorways, close against the walls, and the 
gun, with a purr of delight, let loose its lightnings 
into the advancing horde. 

Stewart, who had been swept aside with the 



28o LITTLE COMRADE 

others without understanding what was happening, 
gasping, rubbing his eyes, staring down the street, 
saw the gray line suddenly stop and crumple up. 
Then, with a savage yell, it dashed forward and 
stopped again. He saw an officer raise his sword 
to urge them on, then fall crashing to the street ; he 
saw that instant of indecision which is fatal to any 
charge ; and then stark terror ran through the ranks, 
and they turned to flee. 

But the pressure from the rear cut off escape in 
that direction, and the human flood burst into the 
houses on either side, swept through them, out across 
the fields, and away. And steadily the little gun 
purred on, as though reveling in its awful work, 
until the street was clear. 

But the Germans, though they had suffered ter- 
ribly, were not yet routed. A remnant of them held 
together behind the houses at the end of the street, 
and still others took up a 'position behind the bar- 
ricade and swept the street with their rifles. 

The little officer bit his lip in perplexity as he 
looked about at his company, so sadly reduced in 
numbers. Should he try to retake the barricade 
with a rush, or should he wait for reinforcements ? 
He loved his men — surely, they had more than 
played their part. Then his eye was caught by a 



DISASTER 28 1 

bent figure which dodged from doorway to door- 
way. 

" That madman again ! " he muttered, and 
watched, expecting every instant to see him 
fall. 

For Stewart had not waited for the captain's de- 
cision. Almost before the Germans turned to flee, 
he was creeping low along the wall, taking advantage 
of such shelter as there was. The whistle of the 
machine-gun's bullets filled the street. One nipped 
him across the wrist, another grazed his arm, and 
then, as the Germans rallied, he saw ahead of him the 
vicious flashes of their rifles. 

He was not afraid; indeed, he was strangely calm. 
He was quite certain that he would not be killed — 
others might fall, but not he. Others — yes, here 
they were; dozens, scores, piled from wall to wall. 
For here was where the machine-gun had caught the 
German advance and smote it down. They lay piled 
one upon another, young men, all of them; some 
lying with arms flung wide, staring blindly up at the 
sky; a few moaning feebly, knowing only that they 
suffered ; two or three trying to pull themselves from 
beneath the heap of dead; one coward burrowing 
deeper into it ! He could hear the thud, thud of the 
bullets from either end of the street as they struck 



282 LITTLE COMRADE 

the mass of bodies, dead and wounded alike, until 
there were no longer any wounded; until even the 
coward lay still ! 

Sick and dizzy, he pushed on. Was this the 
house? The door stood open and he stepped inside 
and looked around. No, this was not it. 

The next one, perhaps — ^all these houses looked 
alike from the street. As he reached the door, a 
swirl of acrid smoke beat into his face. He looked 
out quickly. The barricade was obscured by smoke; 
dense masses rolled out of the houses on either side. 
The Germans had fired the village! 

Into the next house Stewart staggered — ^vainly; 
and into the next. He could hear the crackling of 
the flames ; the smoke grew thicker 

Into the next! 

He knew it the instant he crossed the threshold; 
yes, this was the entry, this was the room, there was 
the settle 



He stopped, staring, gaspin g 

The settle was empty. 

Slowly he stepped forward, gazing about him. 
Yes, there was the bucket of water on the floor, 
just as he had left it; there were the blood-stained 
rags ; there was the torn sheet. 

But the settle was empty. 



DISASTER 283 

He threw himself beside it and ran his hands over 
it, to be sure that his eyes were not deceiving 
him. 

No; the settle was empty. 

He ran into the next room and the next. He ran 
all through the house calling, " Comrade ! Little 
comrade ! " 

But there was no reply. The rooms were empty, 
one and all. 

Half-suffocated, palsied with despair, he reeled 
back to the room where he had left her, and stared 
about it. Could he be mistaken? No; there was 
the bucket, the bandages 

But what was that dark stain in the middle of the 
white, sanded floor. He drew close and looked at it. 
It was blood. 

Still staring, he backed away. Blood — whose 
blood ? Not hers ! Not his little comrade's ! 

And suddenly his strength fell from him ; he stag- 
gered, dropped to his knees 

This was the end, then — ^this was the end. There 
on the settle was where she had lain; it was there 
she had drawn him down for that last caress ; and 
the letters, — ah, they would never be delivered now ! 
But at least he could die there, with his head where 
hers had been. 



284 LITTLE COMRADE 

Blinded, choking, he dragged himself forward — 
here was the place! 

" Little comrade ! " he murmured. " Little com- 
rade!" 

And he fell forward across the settle, his face 
buried in his arms. 



CHAPTER XVI 
A TRUST FULFILLED 

When Stewart opened his eyes again it was to find 
himself looking up into a good-humored face, which 
he did not at first recognize. It was brown and 
dirty, there was a three-days' growth of beard upon 
cheeks and chin, and a deep red scratch across the 
forehead, but the eyes were bright and the lips 
smiling, as of a man superior to every fortune — and 
then he recognized the little Belgian captain whose 
troops had defended the village. 

Instantly memory surged back upon him — mem- 
ory bitter and painful. He raised his head and 
looked about him. He was lying under a clump of 
trees not far from the bank of a little stream, along 
which a company of Belgian soldiers were busy 
throwing up intrenchments. 

" Ah, so you are better ! " said the captain, in his 
clipped French, his eyes beaming with satisfaction. 
" That is good ! A little more of that smoke, and 

it would have been all over with you ! " and he ges- 

285 



286 LITTLE COMRADE 

tured toward the eastern horizon, above which hung 
a black and threatening cloud. 

Stewart pulled himself to a sitting posture and 
stared for a moment at the cloud as it billowed 
in the wind. Then he passed his hand before his 
eyes and stared again. And suddenly all his strength 
seemed to go from him and he lay quietly down 
again. 

" So bad as that ! " said the officer, sympatheti- 
cally, struck by the whiteness of his face. " And I 
have nothing to give you — not a swallow of wine — 
not a sip ! " 

" It will pass," said Stewart, hoarsely. " I shall 
be all right presently. But I do not understand 
French very well. Do you speak English ? " 

" A lit-tle," answered the other, and spoke there- 
after in a mixture of French and English, which 
Stewart found intelligible, but which need not be in- 
dicated here. 

"Will you tell me what happened?" Stewart 
asked, at last. 

" Ah, we drove them out ! " cried the captain, his 
face gleaming. " My men behaved splendidly — they 
are brave boys, as you yourself saw. We made it — 
how you say? — too hot for the Germans; but we 
could not remain. They were pushing up in force 



A TRUST FULFILLED 287 

on every side, and they had set fire to the place. So 
we took up our wounded and fell back. At the last 
moment, I happen to remember that I had seen you 
dodging along the street in face of the German fire, 
so I look for you in this house and in that. At last I 
find you in a room full of smoke, lying across a 
bench, and I bring you away. Now we wait for 
another attack. It will come soon — our scouts have 
seen the Germans preparing to advance. Then we 
fight as long as we can and kill as many as we can, 
and then give back to a new position. That, over 
and over again, will be our part in this war — ^to hold 
them until France has time to strike. But I pity my 
poor country," and his face grew dark. " There 
will be little left of her when those barbarians have 
finished. They are astounded that we fight, that we 
dare oppose them ; they are maddened that we hold 
them back, for time means everything to them. 
They revenge themselves by burning our villages and 
killing defenseless people. Ah, well, they shall pay ! 
Tell me, my friend," he added, in another tone, 
" why did you risk death in that reckless fashion ? 
Why did you kneel beside that bench ? " 

" It was there I left my comrade," Stewart an- 
swered, brokenly, his face convulsed. " She was 
wounded — she could not walk — I was too exhausted 



288 LITTLE COMRADE 

to carry her — I went to look for a cart — for an am- 
bulance — I had scarcely taken a step, when the Ger- 
mans swept over the barricade and into the town. 
When I got back to the house where I had left her, 
she was not there." 

" Ah," said the other, looking down at Stewart, 
thoughtfully. "It was a woman, then?" 

" Yes." 

"Your wife?" 

" She had promised to become my wife," and 
Stewart looked at the other, steadily. 

" You are an American, are you not ? " 

" Yes — I have my passport." 

" And Madame — ^was she also an American?" 

" No — she was a Frenchwoman. She was shot 
twice in the leg as we ran toward your barricade — 
seriously — it was quite impossible for her to walk. 
But when I got back to the house, she was not there. , 
What had happened to her?" 

His companion gazed out over the meadows and 
shook his head. 

"You looked in the other rooms?" he asked. 

" Everywhere — .all through the house — she was 
not there! Ah, and I remember now," he added, 
struggling to a sitting posttjire, his face more livid, if 
possible, than it had been before. " There was a 



A TRUST FULFILLED 289 

great bloodstain on the floor that was not there 
when I left her. How could it have got there? I 
cannot understand ! " 

Again the officer shook his head, his eyes still on 
the billowing smoke. 

" It is very strange," he murmured. 

" I must go back ! " cried Stewart. " I must 
search for her ! " and he tried to rise. 

The other put out a hand to stop him, but drew it 
back, seeing it unnecessary. 

" Impossible ! " he said. " You see, you cannot 
even stand ! " 

" I have had nothing to eat since yesterday," 
Stewart explained. " Then only some eggs and ap- 
ples. If I could get some food " 

He broke ofif, his chin quivering helplessly, as he 
realized his weakness. He was very near to tears. 

" Even if you could walk," the other pointed out, 
"even if you were quite strong, it would still be 
impossible. The Germans have burned the village; 
they are now on this side of it. If Madame is still 
alive, she is safe. Barbarians as they are, they 
would not kill a wounded woman!" 

" Oh, you don't know ! " groaned Stewart. " You 
don't know ! They would kill her without compunc- 
tion ! " and weakness and hunger and despair were 



290 LITTLE COMRADE 

too much for him. He threw himself forward on 
his face, shaken by great sobs. 

The little officer sat quite still, his face very sad. 
There was no glory about war — that was merely a 
fiction to hold soldiers to their work; it was all hor- 
rible, detestable, inhuman. He had seen brave men 
killed, torn, mutilated; he had seen inoffensive peo- 
ple driven from their homes and left to starve; he 
had seen women weeping for their husbands and 
children for their fathers; he had seen terror stalk 
across the quiet countryside — famine, want, de- 
spair 

The paroxysm passed, and Stewart gradually re- 
gained his self-control. 

" You will, of course, do as you think best," said 
his companion, at last; "but I could perhaps be of 
help if I knew more. How do you come to be in 
these rags? Why was Madame dressed as a man? 
Why should the Germans kill her ? These are things 
that I should like to know — ^but you will tell me as 
much or as little as you please." 

Before he was well awar€ of it, so hungry was he 
for comfort, Stewart found himself embarked upon 
the story. It flowed from his lips so rapidly, so 
brokenly, as poignant memory stabbed through him, 
that more than once his listener stopped him and 



A TRUST FULFILLED 291 

asked him to repeat. For the rest, he sat staring out 
at the burning village, his eyes bright, his hands 
clenched. 

And when the story was over, he arose, faced the 
east, and saluted stiffly, 

" Madame! " he said — and so paid her the highest 
tribute in a soldier's power. 

Then he sat down again, and there was a mo- 
ment's silence. 

" What you have told me," he said, slowly, at 
last, " moves me beyond words ! Believe me, I 
would advance this instant, I would risk my whole 
command, if I thought there was the slightest chance 
of rescuing that intrepid and glorious woman. But 
there is no chance. That village is held by at least 
a regiment." 

"What could have happened?" asked Stewart, 
again. " Where could she have gone ? " 

" I cannot imagine. I can only hope that she is 
safe. Most probably she has been taken prisoner. 
Even in that case, there is little danger that she 
will ever be recognized." 

" But why should they take prisoner a wounded 
civilian ? " Stewart persisted. " I cannot under- 
stand it — unless " 

His voice died in his throat. 



292 LITTLE COMRADE 

"Unless what?" asked the officer, turning on 
him quickly. " What is it you fear ? " 

" Unless she was recognized ! " cried Stewart, 
hoarsely. 

But the other shook his head. 

" If she had been recognized — which is most im- 
probable — she would not have been taken pris- 
oner at all. She would have been shot where she 
lay." 

And then again that dark stain upon the floor 
flashed before Stewart's eyes. Perhaps that had 
really happened. Perhaps that blood was hers ! 

" It is the suspense ! " he groaned. " The dam- 
nable suspense ! " 

" I know," said the other, gently. " It is always 
the missing who cause the deepest anguish. One 
can only wait and hope and pray ! That is all that 
you can do — ^that and one other thing." 

" What other thing ? " Stewart demanded. 

" She intrusted you with a mission, did she not? " 
asked the little captain, gently. " Living or dead, 
she would be glad to know that you fulfilled it, for it 
was very dear to her. You still have the let- 
ters?" 

Stewart thrust his hand into his pocket and 
brought them forth. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 293 

" You are right," he said, and rose unsteadily. 
" Where will I find General Joffre? " 

The other had risen, too, and was supporting him 
with a strong hand. 

"That I do not know," he answered; "some- 
where along the French frontier, no doubt, muster- 
ing his forces." 

Stewart looked about him uncertainly. 

" If I were only stronger," he began. 

" Wait," the little officer broke in. " I think I 
have it — I am expecting instructions from our head- 
quarters at St. Trond — they should arrive at any 
moment — and I can send you back in the car which 
brings them. At headquarters they will be able to 
tell you something definite, and perhaps to help you." 
He glanced anxiously toward the east and then cast 
an appraising eye over the intrenchments his troops 
had dug. " We can hold them back for a time," he 
added, " but we need reenforcements badly. Ah, 
there comes the car ! " 

A powerful gray motor spun down the road from 
the west, kicking up a great cloud of dust, and in a 
moment the little captain had received his instruc- 
tions. He tore the envelope open and read its con- 
tents eagerly. Then he turned to his men, his face 
shining. 



294 LITTLE COMRADE 

" The Sixty-third will be here in half an hour! " 
he shouted. " We will give those fellows a hot dose 
this time ! " 

His men cheered the news with waving shakos, 
then, with a glance eastward, fell to work again on 
their trenches, which would have to be extended to 
accommodate the reenfprcements. Their captain 
stepped close to the side of the purring car, made his 
report to an officer who sat beside the driver, and 
then the two carried on for a moment a low-toned 
conversation. More than once they glanced at Stew- 
art, and the conversation ended with a sharp nod 
from the officer in the car. The other came hurry- 
ing back. 

" It is all right," he said. " You will be at St. 
Trond in half an hour," and he helped him to mount 
into the tonneau. 

For an instant Stewart stood there, staring back 
at the cloud of smoke above the burning village; 
then he dropped into the seat and turned to say 
good-by to the gallant fellow who had proved so 
true a friend. 

The little soldier was standing with heels together, 
head thrown back, hand at the visor of his cap. 

"Monsieur!" he said, simply, as his eyes met 
Stewart's, and then the car started. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 295 

Stewart looked back through a mist of tears, and 
waved his hand to that martial little figure, so 
hopeful and indomitable. Should he ever see that 
gallant friend again? Chance was all against it. 
An hour hence, he might be lying in the road, a bul- 
let through his heart; if not an hour hence, then to- 
morrow or next day. And before this war was over, 
how many others would be lying so, arms flung wide, 
eyes staring at the sky — just as those young Ger- 
mans had lain back yonder ! 

He thrust such thoughts away. They were too 
bitter, too terrible. But as his vision cleared, he 
saw on every hand the evidence of war's desolation. 

The road was thronged with fugitives — old men, 
women, and children — fleeing westward away from 
their ruined homes, away from the plague which was 
devastating their land. Their faces were vacant 
with despair, or wet with silent tears. For whither 
could they flee? Where could they hope for food 
and shelter? How could their journey end, save at 
the goal of death? 

The car threaded its way slowly among these 
heart-broken people, passed through silent and de- 
serted villages, by fields of grain that would never 
be harvested, along quiet streams which would soon 
be red with blood ; and at last it came to St. Trond, 



296 LITTLE COMRADE 

and stopped before the town-hall, from whose beau- 
tiful old belfry floated the Belgian flag, 

" If you will wait here, sir," said the officer, and 
jumped to the pavement and hurried up the steps. 

So Stewart waited, an object of much curiosity 
to the passing crowd. Other cars dashed up from 
time to time, officers jumped out with reports, 
jumped in again with orders and dashed away. 
Plainly, Belgium was not dismayed even in face of 
this great invasion. She was fighting coolly, intelli- 
gently, with her whole strength. 

And then an officer came down the steps, sprang 
to the footboard of the machine, and looked at 
Stewart. 

" I am told you have a message," he said. 

" Yes." 

" I am a member of the French staff. Can you 
deliver it to me ? " 

" I was told to deliver it only to General Joflfre." 

" Ah ! in that case " 

The officer caught his lower lip between the thumb 
and little finger of his left hand, as if in perplexity. 
So naturally was it done that for an instant Stew- 
art did not recognize the sign; then, hastily, he 
passed his left hand across his eyes. 

The officer looked at him keenly. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 297 

" Have we not met before?" he asked. 

"In Berlin; on the twenty-second," Stewart an- 
swered. 

The officer's face cleared, and he stepped over the 
door into the tonneau. 

" I am at your service, sir," he said. " First you 
must rest a little, and have some clean clothes, and a 
bath and food. I can see that you have had a hard 
time. Then we will set out." 

An hour later, more comfortable in body than it 
had seemed possible he could ever be again, Stewart 
lay back among the deep cushions of a high-powered 
car, which whizzed southward along a pleasant road. 
He did not know his destination. He had not in- 
quired, and indeed he did not care. But had he 
known Belgium, he would have recognized Landen 
and Ramillies; he would have known that those 
high white cliffs ahead bordered the Meuse; he 
would have seen that this pinnacled town they were 
approaching was Namur. 

The car was stopped at the city gate by a sentry, 
and taken to the town-hall, where the chauffeur's 
papers were examined and verified. Then they were 
off again, across the placid river and straight 
southward, close beside its western bank. Stewart 
had never seen a more beautiful country. The other 



298 LITTLE COMRADE 

shore was closed in by towering rugged cliffs, with 
a white villa here and there squeezed in between wall 
and water or perched on a high ledge. Sometimes 
the cliffs gave back to make room for a tiny, red- 
roofed village; again they were riven by great fis- 
sures or pitted with yawning chasms. 

Evening came, and still the car sped southward. 
There were no evidences here of war. As the calm 
stars came out one by one, Stewart could have fan- 
cied that it was all a dream, but for that dull agony 
of the spirit which he felt would never leave him — 
and for that strand of lustrous hair which now lay 
warm above his heart — ^and which, alas ! was all he 
had of her ! 

Yes — ^there were the two letters which rustled 
under his fingers as he thrust them into his pocket. 
He had looked at them more than once during the 
afternoon, delighting to handle them because they 
had been hers, imagining that he could detect on 
them the faint aroma of her presence. He had 
turned them over and over, had slipped out the sheets 
of closely-written paper, and read them through and 
through, hoping for some clew to the identity of 
the woman he had lost. It was an added anguish 
that he did not even know her name ! 

The letters did not help him. They contained 



A TRUST FULFILLED 299 

nothing but innocent, careless, light-hearted, imper- 
sonal gossip, written apparently by one young 
woman to another. " My dear cousin," they were 
addressed, and Stewart could have wept at the irony 
which denied him even her first name. They were 
in English — excellent English — a little stiff, perhaps 
— just such English as she had spoken — and the en- 
velopes bore the superscription, " Mrs. Bradford 
Stewart, Spa, Belgium." But so far as he could see 
they had nothing to do with her — ^they were just a 
part of the elaborate plot in which he had been en- 
tangled. 

But what secret could they contain ? A code? If 
so, it was very perfect, for nothing could be more 
simple, more direct, more unaffected than the letters 
themselves. A swift doubt swept over him. Per- 
haps, once in the presence of the general, he would 
find that he had played the fool — that there was 
nothing in these letters. 

And yet a woman had risked her life for them. 
Face to face with death, she had made him 
swear to deliver them. Well, he would keep his 
oath! 

He was still very tired, and at last he lay back 
among the cushions and closed his eyes and tried to 
sleep. 



300 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Halte la!" cried a sharp voice. 

The brakes squeaked and groaned as they were 
jammed down. Stewart, shaken from his nap, sat 
up and looked about him. Ahead gleamed the lights 
of a town; he could hear a train rumbling past along 
the river bank. 

There was a moment's colloquy between the chauf- 
feur and a man in uniform; a paper was examined 
by the light of an electric torch; then the man 
stepped to one side and the car started slowly ahcE^d. 

The rumbling train came to a stop, and Stewart, 
rubbing his eyes, saw a regiment of soldiers leaping 
from it down to a long, brilliantly-lighted platform. 
They wore red trousers and long blue coats folded 
back in front — and with a shock, Stewart realized 
that they were French — that these were the men who 
were soon to face those gray-clad legions back yon- 
der. Then, above the entrance to the station, its 
name flashed into view, — " Givet." They had 
passed the frontier — they were in France. 

The car rolled on, crossed the river by a long 
bridge, and finally came to a stop before a great, 
barn-like building, every window of which blazed 
with light, and where streams of officers were con- 
stantly arriving and departing. 

At once a sentry leaped upon the footboard ; again 



A TRUST FULFILLED 301 

the chauffeur produced his paper, and an officer was 
summoned, who glanced at it, and immediately- 
stepped back and threw open the door of the ton- 
neau. 

" This way, sir, if you please," he said to Stewart. 

As the latter rose heavily, stifif with long sitting, 
the officer held out his arm and helped him to alight. 

" You are very tired, is it not so ? " he asked, and 
still supporting him, led the way up the steps, along 
a hall, and into a long room where many persons 
were sitting on benches against the walls or slowly 
walking up and down. " You will wait here," added 
his guide. " It will not be long," and he hurried 
away. 

Stewart dropped upon a bench and looked about 
him. There were a few women in the room — and 
he wondered at their presence there — 'but most of its 
occupants were men, some in uniform, others in 
civilian dress of the most diverse kinds, of all grades 
of society. Stewart was struck at once by the fact 
that they were all silent, exchanging not a word, not 
even a glance. Each kept his eyes to himself as if 
it were a point of honor so to do. 

Suddenly Stewart understood. These were 
agents of the secret service, waiting to report to their 
chief or to be assigned to some difficult and danger- 



302 LITTLE COMRADE 

ous task. One by one they were summoned, dis- 
appeared through the door, and did not return. 

At last it was to Stewart the messenger came. 

"This way, sir," he said. 

Stewart followed him out into the hall, through a 
door guarded by two sentries, and into a little room 
beyond a deep ante-chamber, where a white-haired 
man sat before a great table covered with papers. 
The messenger stood aside for Stewart to pass, then 
went swiftly out and closed the door. 

The man at the table examined his visitor with a 
long and penetrating glance, his face cold, impassive, 
expressionless. 

" You are not one of ours," he said, at last, in 
English. 

" No, I am an American." 

" So I perceived. And yet you have a message? " 

" Yes." 

" How came you by it ? " 

" It was intrusted to me by one of your agents 
who joined me at Aix-la-Chapelle." 

A sudden flame of excitement blazed into the 
cold eyes. 

" May I ask your name? " 

"Bradford Stewart." 

The man snatched up a memorandum from the 



A TRUST FULFILLED 303 

desk and glanced at it. Then he sprang to his 
feet. 

" Your pardon, Mr. Stewart," he said. " I did not 
catch your name — or, if I did, my brain did not 
supply the connection, as it should have done. My 
only excuse is that I have so many things to think of. 
Pray sit down," and he drew up a chair. " Where 
is the person who joined you at Aix?" 

" I fear that she is dead," answered Stewart, in a 
low voice. 

" Dead ! " echoed the other, visibly and deeply 
moved. " Dead ! But no, that cannot be ! " He 
passed his hand feverishly before his eyes. " I will 
hear your story presently — ^first, the message. It is 
a written one?" 

" Yes, in the form of two letters." 

" May I see them ? " 

Stewart hesitated. 

" I promised to deliver them only to General 
Joffre," he explained. 

" I understand. But the general is very busy. I 
must see the letters for a moment before I ask him 
for an audience." 

Without a word, Stewart passed them over. He 
saw the flush of excitement with which the other 
looked at them; he saw how his hand trembled as 



304 LITTLE COMRADE 

he drew out the sheets, glanced at them, thrust them 
hastily back, and touched a button on his desk. 

Instantly the door opened and the messenger ap- 
peared. 

" Inquire of General Jofifre if he can see me for a 
moment on a matter of the first importance," said 
the man. The messenger bowed and withdrew. 
" Yes, of the first importance," he added, turning to 
Stewart, with shining eyes. " Here are the letters — 
I will not deprive you, sir, of the pleasure of your- 
self placing them in our general's hands. And it is 
to him you shall tell your story." 

The door opened and the messenger appeared. 

" The general will be pleased to receive Monsieur 
at once," he said, and stood aside for them to pass. 

At the end of the hall was a large room crowded 
with officers. Beyond this was a smaller room 
where six men, each with his secretary, sat around a 
long table. At its head sat a plump little man, with 
white hair and bristling white mustache, which con- 
trasted strongly with a face darkened and reddened 
by exposure to wind and rain, and lighted by a pair 
of eyes incredibly bright. 

He was busy with a memorandum, but looked up 
as Stewart and his companion entered. 

" Well, Fernande? " he said; but Stewart did not 



A TRUST FULFILLED 305 

know till afterward that the man at his side was the 
famous head of the French Intelligence Department, 
the eyes and ears of the French army — captain of an 
army of his own, every member of which went daily 
in peril of a dreadful death. 

" General," said Fernande, in a voice whose trem- 
bling earnestness caused every man present sud- 
denly to raise his head, " I have the pleasure of in- 
troducing to you an American, Mr. Bradford Stew- 
art, who, at great peril to himself, has brought you 
a message which I believe to be of the first impor- 
tance." 

General Joffre bowed. 

" I am pleased to meet Mr. Stewart," he said. 
" What is this message? " 

" It is in these letters, sir," said Stewart, and 
placed the envelopes in his hand. 

The general glanced at them, then slowly drew 
out the enclosures. 

" We shall need a candle," said Fernande; " also 
a flat dish of water." 

One of the secretaries hastened away to get them. 
He was back in a moment, and Fernande, having 
lighted the candle, took from his waistcoat pocket 
a tiny phial of blue liquid, and dropped three drops 
into the dish. 



3o6 LITTLE COMRADE 

" Now we are ready, gentlemen," he said. " You 
are about to witness a most interesting experi- 
ment." 

He picked up one of the sheets, dipped it into the 
water, then held it close to the flame of the candle. 

Stewart, watching curiously, saw a multitude of 
red lines leap out upon the sheet — lines which zig- 
zagged this way and that, apparently without mean- 
ing. 

But to the others in the room they seemed any- 
thing but meaningless. As sheet followed sheet, the 
whole staff crowded around the head of the table, 
snatching them up, holding them to the light, bend- 
ing close to decipher minute writing. Their eyes 
were shining with excitement, their hands were 
trembling; they spoke in broken words, in bits of 
sentences. 

" The enceinte " 

" Oh, a new bastion here at the left " 

" I thought so " 

" Three emplacements " 



" But this wall is simply a mask — it would pre- 
sent no difficulties " 

" This position could be flanked " 



It was the general himself who spoke the final 
word. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 307 

" This is the weak spot," he pointed out, his finger 
upon the last sheet of all. Then he turned to Stew- 
art, his eyes gleaming. " Monsieur," he said, " I 
will not conceal from you that these papers are, as 
Fernande guessed, of the very first importance. 
Will you tell us how they came into your posses- 
sion?" 

And Stewart, as briefly as might be, told the story 
— the meeting at Aix, the arrest at Herbesthal, the 
flight over the hills, the passage of the Meuse, the 
attack on the village — his voice faltering at the end 
despite his effort to control it. 

At first, the staff had kept on with its examina- 
tion of the plans, but first one and then another laid 
them down and listened. 

For a moment after he had finished, they sat 
silent, regarding him. Then General Joffre rose 
slowly to his feet, and the members of his staff rose 
with him. 

" Monsieur," he said, " I shall not attempt to tell 
you how your words have moved me; but on behalf 
of France I thank you; on her behalf I give you 
the highest honor which it is in her power to 
bestow." His hand went to his buttonhole and 
detached a tiny red ribbon. In a moment he 
had affixed it to Stewart's coat. "The Legion, 



3o8 LITTLE COMRADE 

monsieur ! " he said, and he stepped back and 
saluted. 

Stewart, a mist of tears before his eyes, his throat 
suddenly contracted, looked down at the decoration, 
gleaming on his lapel like a spot of blood. 

" It is too much," he protested, brokenly. " I do 
not deserve " 

" It is the proudest order in the world, monsieur," 
broke in the general, " but it is not too much. You 
have done for France a greater thing than you per- 
haps imagine. Some day you will know. Not soon, 
I fear," and his face hardened. " We have other 
work to do before we can make use of these sheets 
of paper. You saw the German army ? " 

"Yes, sir; a part of it." 

" It is well equipped ? " 

" It seemed to me irresistible," said Stewart. " I 
had never imagined such swarms of men, such tre- 
mendous cannon — • — " 

" We have heard something of those cannon," 
broke in the general. " Are they really so tre- 
mendous ? " 

" I know nothing about cannon," answered Stew- 
art ; " but " and he described as well as he could 

the three monsters he had seen rolling along the road 
toward Liege. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 309 

His hearers listened closely, asked a question or 



two- 



" I thank you again," said the general, at last. 
" What you tell us is most interesting. Is there any- 
thing else that I can do for you? If there is, I pray 
you to command me." 

Stewart felt himself shaken by a sudden convul- 
sive trembling. 

" If I could get some news," he murmured, 
brokenly, " of — of my little comrade." 

General Joffre shot him a quick glance. His face 
softened, grew tender with comprehension. 

" Fernande," he said. 

Fernande bowed. 

" Everything possible shall be done, my general," 
he said. " I promise it. We shall not be long with- 
out tidings." 

"Thank you," said Stewart. "That is all, I 
think." 

"And you?" 

" I ? Oh, what does it matter ! " And then he 
turned, fired by a sudden remembrance of a great 
white tent, of loaded ambulances. " Yes — there is 
something I might do. I am a surgeon. Will 
France accept my services ? " 

" She is honored to do so," said the general, 



310 LITTLE COMRADE 

quickly. " I will see that it is done. Until to- 
morrow — I will expect you," and he held out his 
hand, while the staff came to a stiff salute. 

" Until to-morrow," repeated Stewart, and fol- 
lowed Fernande to the door. 

As he passed out, he glanced behind him. The 
members of the staff were bending above those red- 
lined sheets, their faces shining with eagerness 

The officers in the outer room, catching sight of 
the red ribbon, saluted as he passed. The sentry 
in the hall came stiffly to attention. 

But Stewart's heart was bitter. Honor! Glory! 
What were they worth to him alone and deso- 
late 

" Monsieur ! " It was Fernande's voice, low, vi- 
brant with sympathy. " You will pardon me for 
what I am about to say — but I think I understand. 
It was not alone for France you did this thing — it 
was for that ' little comrade,' as you have called her, 
so brave, so loyal, so indomitable that my heart is 
at her feet. Is it not so? " 

He came a step nearer and laid a tender hand on 
Stewart's arm. 

" Do not despair, I beg of you, my friend. She is 
not dead — it is impossible that she should be dead! 
Fate could not be so cruel. With her you shared a 



A TRUST FULFILLED 311 

few glorious days of peril, of trial, and of ecstasy — 
then you were whirled apart. But only for a time. 
Somewhere, sometime, you will find her again, 
awaiting you. I know it ! I feel it ! " 

But it was no longer Fernande that Stewart heard 
— it was another voice, subtle, delicate, out of the 
unknown 

His bosom lifted with a deep, convulsive breath. 

" You are right ! " he whispered. " I, too, feel it ! 
Sometime — somewhere " 

And his trembling fingers sought that tress of 
lustrous hair, warm above his heart. 

Far away to the east, a sentry in the gray uni- 
form of the German army paced slowly back and 
forth before a great white house looking across a 
terraced garden down upon the Meuse. Three days 
before, it had been the beautiful and carefully- 
ordered home of a wealthy Belgian; now it reeked 
with the odor of ether and iodine. In the spa- 
cious dining-room an operating-table had been in- 
stalled, and a sterilizing apparatus simmered in one 
corner. Along its halls and in every room rows of 
white cots were ranged — and each cot had its band- 
aged occupant. 

On the terrace overlooking the river, two sur- 



312 LITTLE COMRADE 

geons, thoroughly weary after a hard day, sat smok- 
ing and talking in low tones. Within, a white-clad 
nurse stole from cot to cot, assuring herself that all 
was as well as might be. 

In a tiny room on the upper floor, a single cot 
had been placed. As the nurse stopped at its open 
door and held aloft her night-lamp, her eyes caught 
the gleam of other eyes, and she stepped quickly 
forward. 

" V/hat is it? " she asked, softly. " Why are you 
not asleep ? You are not in pain ? " 

The patient — a mere lad he seemed of not more 
than seventeen — smiled and shook his head. 

" I do not know German," he said in French. 

The nurse placed her cool hand upon the patient's 
brow to assure herself that there was no access of 
fever. 

" I speak French a little," she said, painfully, in 
that language. And then she hesitated. " Tell me, 
Fraulein," she went on, after a moment, " how you 
came to be wounded. We have wondered much." 

" My brother and I were trying to get through 
your lines to Brussels where our mother is," the 
patient answered, readily, still smiling. " I slipped 
on a suit of my brother's clothes, thinking to make 
better progress. But we were too late. We were 



A TRUST FULFILLED 313 

caught between two fires when your men stormed 
that village." 

Despite the smile, there was a shimmer of anxiety 
in the eyes she turned upon the nurse. It was a poor 
story; she realized that it would not bear scrutiny, 
that it would break down at the first question; but, 
fevered and racked with pain, she had been able to 
devise no better one. 

The nurse, at least, accepted it unquestioningly. 

" Ach, how terrible ! " she commented. " And 
your brother — what of him? " 

" When I was wounded, he carried me into a 
house, and then hastened away to look for a cart 
or wagon in which to. place me. Before he could 
get back, your men had taken the village." 

" Then he is safe at least ! " 

" Yes, I am sure of it." 

" But he must think you dead ! He will not know 
that you were saved! Ach, what anguish must be 
his!" 

" Yes, he will suffer," agreed the wounded girl, in 
a low tone. 

The eyes of the tender-hearted German woman 
were misty as she gazed down at her patient and 
sought for some word of comfort. 

" But think of his joy when he finds that you are 



314 LITTLE COMRADE 

not dead ! " she urged. " To-morrow you shall give 
me his address and I will write. He will come for 
you, no doubt, as soon as he can." 

" Yes, I am sure of that also ! " 

There was a subtle timbre in the voice that caught 
the nurse's ear, and she looked down again into the 
luminous eyes. 

" You do not seem to mind your misfortune," she 
said. " You seem even happy ! " 

The eyes which gazed up at her were softly, won- 
derfully brilliant. A deeper color crept into the pale 
cheeks. 

" I am happy," said the girl, almost in a whisper. 
" Very, very happy ! " 

The nurse paused a moment longer, strangely 
thrilled. Then her training asserted itself. 

" You must not excite yourself," she cautioned. 
" You must go to sleep. Good-night." 

" Good-night ! " came the murmured answer. " I 
will try to sleep." 

But for long and long she lay staring up into the 
darkness, glowing with the precious memory of a 
man's strong arms about her, his ardent lips on 
hers. 

" He is safe," her soul assured her. " He will 
seek you up and down the world until he finds you. 



A TRUST FULFILLED 315 

You shall lie again upon his breast; you shall hear 
his heart beating . . . sometime . . . some- 
where " 

And with a long sigh of contentment, she closed 
her eyes and slept. 



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nical mastery of Miss Dix is great, but her spiritual mastery 
is greater. For this book lives in the memory." 

Percival L. Wilde'a DAWN and Other One-Act Plays 

"Short, sharp and decisive" episodes of contemporary life. 
Notable for force, interest and at times humor. $1.20 net. 

DAWN, a tense episode in the hut of a brutal miner, with 
a supernatural climax. THE NOBLE LORD, a comedy 
about a lady, who angled with herself as bait. THE 
TRAITOR is discovered by a ruse of a British command- 
ing officer. A HOUSE OF CARDS, about a closed door, 
and what was on the other side— tragic. PLAYING WITH 
FIRE, a comedy about the devotion of a boy and girl. THE 
FINGER OF GOD points the way to an ex-criminal by 
means of a girl he had never seen before. 

Lily A. Long's RADISSON: The Voyageur 

A highly picturesque play in four acts and in verse. The 
central figures are Radisson the redoubtable voyageur who 
explored the Upper Mississippi, his brother-in-law Groseil- 
liers, Owera the daughter of an Indian chief, and various 
other Indians. The daring resource of the two white men in 
the face of imminent peril, the pathetic love of Owera, and 
above all, the vivid pictures of Indian life, the women grind- 
ing corn, the council, dances, feasting and famine are notable 
features, and over it all is a somewhat unusual feeling for 
the moods of nature which closely follow those of the people 
involved. $1. 00 net. 

HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 



"THE CHEERIEST. HAPPIEST BOOKS" 
By JULIE M. LIPPMANN 

Martha By-the-Day 

Thirteenth printing. $1.00 net. 

The story of a big, kindly Irish char-woman, a marvel 
of physical strength and shrewd humor, who takes under 
her wing a well-born but friendless girl whom she finds 
alone and helpless in New York. 

"No sweeter humor has been written into a book." — Hartford Courant. 

"Cheeriest, most warm-hearted and humorous character since Mrs. 
Wiggs." — Living Age. 

"Half an hour with 'Martha' puts one on better terms with the world." 

—Washington (D. C.) Star. 

Making Over Martha 

Fifth printing. fl.20 net. 

This story follows "Martha" and her family to the coun- 
try, where she again finds a love affair on her hands. 

"Fresh, wholesome, entertaining." — Churchman. 
" 'Martha' is not of the stuff to die." — Bellman. 
" 'Martha' brings hard sense and good humor." — New York Sun. 

Martha and Cupid 

Tells how "Martha" came to choose "Sam Slosson" for 
her husband, how she spent the fund for her wedding 
outfit, how she solved the "mother-in-law" and other 
"problems" in her family life. Just ready. $1.00 net. 



HENRY HOLT AND COMPANY 

PUBLISHERS NEW YORK 




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