His will to awake at the rising of the sun was not sufficient. The soothing4 influence of warmth and the first real physical relaxation5 that he had enjoyed in three or four days overpowered his senses, and kept him slumbering6 on peacefully long after the early silver of the rising sun had turned to gold on the snow.
He had dug so deep a hole and he lay so close under the hedge that even a vigilant8 scout9 looking for an enemy might have passed within a dozen feet of him without seeing him. Another drift of snow falling after he had gone to sleep had covered up his footsteps and he was as securely hidden as if he had been a hundred miles, instead of only a scant10 two miles, from the double French and German line.
No human being noticed his presence. A small brown bird, much like the snowbird of his own land, hopped11 near, detected the human presence and then hopped deliberately12 away. Nobody was in the snowy fields. They were within range of the great German guns, and the peasants were gone. Had John been willing to search longer he could easily have found an abandoned house for shelter. As he had made mental notes before, Europe was now full of abandoned houses. In some regions rents must be extraordinarily13 low.
While he slept, firing was resumed at points on the long double line. Rifles flashed, and incautious heads or hands were struck, and somewhere or other the cannon14 were always muttering. But it was all in the day's work. Months of it had made his whole system physical and mental so used to it that it did not awaken15 him now.
Nevertheless the hosts of the air were uncommonly16 active while he slept. The wireless17, sputtering18 and crackling, was carrying the news from general to general that a smart little action had been fought at Chastel, where another smart little action had been fought not long before, that the Germans had been overly daring and had paid for it.
Yet it was only an incident on a gigantic battle front that extended its mighty19 curving line from Switzerland to the sea, and soon the wireless and its older brother the telephone, and its oldest brother the telegraph, talked of other plans which would cause a much greater slaughter20 than at Chastel. Chastel itself, unless its beautiful Gothic cathedral brooding unharmed over the ruins could win it a word or two, would have no place at all in history. John himself was only one among eight or ten million armed men, and not a single one of all those millions knew that he lay there in the snow under the hedge.
The aeroplanes came out in the clear frosty blue, and both German and French machines sauntered lazily up and down the air lanes, but they did not risk encounters with one another. They were scouting21 with powerful glasses, or directing the fire of the batteries. One French machine circled directly over John, not more than two or three hundred feet away, but the man in it, keen of eye though he was, did not dream that one of the bravest of the Strangers lay asleep under the hedge beneath him.
The fleets of flyers were larger than usual, as if they were anxious to take the fresh air, after days of storm. But the most daring and skillful of all the airmen, Philip Lannes, was not there. He still lay in a hospital a hundred miles to the west, with a bullet wound in his shoulder, and while the time was to come when the Arrow under his practiced hand would once more be queen of the heavens, it was yet many days away.
The sun rose higher, suffusing22 the frosty blue heavens with a luminous23 golden glow, but John slept heavily on. He had not known how near to exhaustion24 was his nervous system. Perhaps it was less physical exhaustion than emotion, which can make huge drains upon the system. Now he was in the keeping of nature which was restoring all his powers of both mind and body, and keeping him there until he should again have all his strength and all the keenness of his faculties25, needful for the great work that lay before him.
It was halfway26 toward noon when he awakened27, remembered dimly in the first instant, and then comprehending everything in the second. He unrolled the blankets, slipped out of his lair28 and knew by the height of the sun that he had slept far beyond the time appointed for himself. But he did not worry over it. Barring a little stiffness, which he removed by flexing30 and tensing his muscles, he felt very strong and capable. The fresh air pouring into his lungs was so different from the corruption31 of the trenches32 that he seemed to be raised upon wings.
He resumed his walk toward the hills, and ate breakfast from his knapsack as he went along. Presently he noticed a large aeroplane circling over his head, and he felt sure that it was observing him. It was bound to be French or other French machines would attack it, and, after one glance, he walked slowly on. The machine followed him. He did not look up again, but he saw a great shadow on the snow that moved with his.
The knowledge that he was being watched and followed even by one of his own army was uncomfortable, and he felt a sensation of relief when he heard a swish and a swoop33 and the aeroplane alighted on the snow beside him. The man in the machine stepped out and asked:
"Who are you and where are you going?"
John did not altogether like his manner, which in his own idiom he styled "fresh."
"I've a name," he replied, "but it's none of your business, and I'm going somewhere, but that's none of your business either."
"They're both my business," said the man, drawing a revolver.
"Read that," said John, producing his passport.
The document stated simply that Jean Castel was engaged upon an important mission for France, and all were commanded to give him what help they could. It was signed by the fat and famous general of brigade, Vaugirard, and therefore it was a significant document.
"I apologize for brusqueness," said the aviator34 handsomely, "but the times are such that we forget our politeness. What can I do for you, Monsieur Jean Castel, who I am sure has another and more rightful name at other times."
"Just now Castel is my right name, and all friends of mine will call me by it. Thank you for your offer, but you can do nothing—"
John stopped suddenly as he glanced at the aeroplane poised35 like a huge bird in the snow.
"Yes, you can do something," he said. "I notice that your plane is big enough for two. I want to reach the mountains to the eastward36 without all this tremendous toiling37 through the snow. You can carry me there in an hour or two, and besides this passport I give you a password."
"What's the password?"
"Lannes!"
"Lannes! Philip Lannes, do you know him?"
"I have been up with him in the Arrow many times. I've fought the Taubes with him. I helped him destroy both a Zeppelin and a forty-two-centimeter gun."
"Then I know you. You are his friend John Scott, the American. I thought at first that you had the accent of North America. Oh, I know of you! We flying men are a close group, and what happens to one of us is not hidden long from the others. Your password is sufficient."
"You know then that Lannes is in a hospital with a bullet wound in his shoulder?"
"I heard it two days ago. A pity! A great pity! He'll be as well as ever in a month, but France needs her king of the air every day. My own name is Delaunois, and I'll put you down in those hills at whatever point you wish, Monsieur Jean Castel of America."
John smiled. Delaunois was a fine fellow after all.
"I can't give you an extra suit for flying," said Delaunois, "but your two blankets ought to protect you in the icy air. I'll not go very high, and an hour or a little more should put us in the heart of the hills."
"Good enough, and many thanks to you," said John.
They gave the machine the requisite38 push, sprang in and rose slowly above the snowy waste. It was a good aeroplane, and Delaunois was a good aviator, but John missed the Arrow and Philip. He knew that the heavens nowhere held such another pair. Alas39! that Lannes should be laid up at such a time with a wound!
But he quickly called himself ungrateful. Delaunois had come at a most timely moment, and he was doing him a great service. It was very cold above the earth, as Delaunois had predicted, and he wrapped the blankets closely about himself, drawing one over his head and face, until he was completely covered except the eyes.
To the westward41 several other planes were hovering42 and to the eastward was another group which John knew to be German. But the flying machines did not seem disposed to enter into hostilities43 that morning, although John saw the double line of trenches blazing now and then with fire, and, at intervals44, the heavy batteries on either side sent a stated number of shells at the enemy.
Seen from a height the opposing trenches appeared to be almost together, and the fire of the hostile marksmen blended into the same line of light. But John did not look at them long. He had seen so much of foul45 trenches for weary months that it was a pleasure to let the eye fill with something else.
He looked instead at the high hills which were fast coming near, and although covered with snow, with trees bare of leaves, they were a glorious sight, an intense relief to him after all that monotony of narrow mud walls. He knew that trenches or other earthworks ran among the hills also, but the nature of the ground compelled breaks, and it would be easier anyhow to pass through a forest or a ravine.
"Where do you wish me to put you down?" asked Delaunois.
"At some place in those low mountains there, where the German lines are furthest from ours."
"I think I know such a point. You won't mind my speaking of you as a spy, Mr. Jean Castel of America, will you?"
"Not at all, because that's what I am."
"Then don't take too big a risk. It hasn't been long since you were a boy, and I don't like to think of one so young being executed as a spy."
"I don't intend to be."
"It's likely that I may see Philip Lannes before long. I go westward in two or three days and I shall find a chance to visit him in the hospital. If I see him what shall I tell him about a young man whom we both know, one John Scott, an American?"
"You tell him that his sister, Mademoiselle Julie Lannes, came to the village of Chastel to meet him, in accordance with his written request, and while she was waiting for him with her servants, Antoine and Suzanne Picard, not knowing that he had been wounded since the writing of his letter, she was kidnapped and carried into Germany with the Picards by Prince Karl of Auersperg. Prince Karl is in love with her and intends to force her into a morganatic marriage. Otherwise she is safe. The American, John Scott, in addition to his duties as a spy for France, a country that he loves and admires, intends, if human endeavor can achieve it, to rescue Mademoiselle Lannes and bring her back to Paris."
Delaunois took one hand from the steering46 rudder and turned glistening47 eyes upon John.
"It's a knightly48 adventure," he said. "It will appeal to Frenchmen when they hear of it, and yet more to Frenchwomen. I should like to shake the hand of this American, John Scott, and since he is not here, I will, if you will let me, shake the hand of his nearest French relative, Jean Castel."
He opened his gloved palm and John's met it in a strong grasp.
"I'm glad," said Delaunois, "that I saw you, and that I am able to give you this lift. We're over the edge of the mountains now, and presently we'll cross the French lines. I think I'd better go up a considerable distance, as they won't know we're French, and they might give us a few shots."
The machine rose fast and it grew intensely cold. John looked down now upon a country, containing much forest for Europe, and sparsely49 inhabited. But he saw far beneath them trenches and other earthworks manned with French soldiers. Several officers were examining them through glasses, but Delaunois sailed gracefully50 over the line, circled around a slender peak where he was hidden completely from their view, and then dropped down in a forest of larch51 and pine. "So far as I know," he said, when the plane rested on the snow, "nobody has seen our descent. We're well beyond the French lines here, but you'll find German forts four or five miles ahead. As you see, this is exceedingly rough ground, not easy for men to occupy, and so the French stay on one side of this little cluster of mountains while the Germans keep to the other. And now, Monsieur Jean Castel, I leave you here, wishing you success in your quest, success in every respect."
Again the two strong hands met. A minute later the aeroplane rose in the air, carrying but one of the men, while Jean Castel, peasant of Lorraine, was left behind, standing52 in the snow, and feeling very grateful to Delaunois.
John watched the aeroplane disappear over the peak on its return journey, and then he walked boldly eastward toward the German lines. Modesty53 kept him from accepting Delaunois' tribute in full, but it had warmed his heart and strengthened his courage anew. Delaunois had considered it not a reckless quest, but high adventure with a noble impulse, and John's heart and spirit had responded quickly. Great deeds come from exaltation, and that mood was his.
He followed what seemed to be a little path under the snow, leading along the side of the mountain toward the eastward, the way he would go. Here portions of the earth were exposed, where the snow had already melted much under the heat of the high sun. Three or four hundred feet below a brook54 ran noisily over stones, but that was the only sound in the mountains. He felt though that the Germans must be somewhere near. Men with glasses might be watching him already.
He decided55 at once upon his r?le. In Europe peasants were often heavy and loutish56. It was expected of them, and none would be heavier or more loutish than he. He thrust both hands in his pockets, and began to whistle familiar German songs and hymns57, varying them now and then with a chanson or two that might have been sung for centuries in Lorraine.
The path led on across a little valley and then along the slope of another ridge58. Under the increasing heat of the sun the snow was now melting much faster, and streams ran in every ravine. But the stalwart young peasant, Jean Castel of Lorraine, was sure of his footing, and he advanced steadily59 toward his goal.
Germans in rifle pits saw the figure coming their way, and several officers examined it critically with their glasses. All pronounced the stranger obviously a peasant, and they were equally sure that he could do them no harm. He was coming straight toward their pits and so they awaited him with some curiosity.
John presently caught the shimmer60 of sun on bayonets, and he knew now that he would soon reach the German earthworks. His first care after Delaunois left him, had been to destroy the passport that General Vaugirard had given him and there was not a scratch of writing about him to identify him as John Scott.
Whistling louder than ever, and looking vacant of countenance61, he walked boldly toward the first rifle pit, and, when the sharp hail of the German sentry62 came, he promptly63 threw up his hands. An officer whom he took to be a lieutenant64 and four or five men came toward him. All wore heavy gray overcoats and they were really boys rather than men; not one of them, including the officers, seeming to be more than twenty. But they were large and muscular, heavily tanned by wind and snow and rain.
John had learned to read character, and as he walked carelessly toward them he nevertheless watched them keenly. And so watching he judged that they were honest youths, ready to like or hate, according to orders from the men higher up, but by nature simple and direct. He did not feel any fear of them.
"Halt!" said the officer, whom John judged to be a Saxon—he had seen his kind in Dresden and Leipsic.
John stopped obediently, and raised his hand in a clumsy military fashion, standing there while they looked him over.
"Now you can come forward, still with your hands up," said the officer, though not in any fierce manner, "and tell us who you are."
John advanced, and they quickly searched him, finding no weapon.
"You can take your hands down," said the officer. "Unarmed, I don't believe you'd be a match for our rifles. Now, who are you?"
"Jean Castel, sir, of Lorraine," replied John in German with a strong French accent.
"And what have you been doing here between our lines and those of the French?"
"I took some cattle across the mountains for the army and having sold them I was walking back home. In the storm last night I wandered through the lines into this very rough country and got lost."
"You do look battered65. But you say you sold your cattle. Now what have you done with your money?"
The officer's tone had suddenly become suspicious, but John was prepared. Opening his heavy blouse he took from an inside pocket a handful of German gold and notes. The young lieutenant glanced at the money and his suspicions departed.
"It's good German," he said, "and I don't think a peasant like you could have got it unless he had something valuable to sell. Come, you shall go back with us and I'll turn you over to a higher officer. I'm Lieutenant Heinrich Schmidt, and we're part of a Saxon division."
John went with them without hesitation66. In fact, he felt little fear. There was nothing to disprove his statements, and he was not one of those who looked upon Germans as barbarians67. Experience had shown him that ordinary Germans had plenty of human kindness. He sniffed68 the pleasant odors that came from the kitchen automobiles69 near by, and remarked na?vely that he would be glad to share their rations70 until they passed him on.
"Very well, Castel," said Lieutenant Schmidt, "you shall have your share, but I must take you first to our colonel. He will have important questions to ask you."
"I'm ready," said John in an indifferent tone. But as he went with the men he noted71 as well as he could, without attracting attention to himself, the German position. Rifle pits and trenches appeared at irregular intervals, but the mountains themselves furnished the chief fortifications. In such country as this it would be difficult for either side to drive back the other, a fact which the enemies themselves seemed to concede, as there was no firing on this portion of the line. But at points far to the west the great guns muttered, and their faint echoes ran through the gorges72.
The path led around one of the crests73, and they came to a little cluster of tiny huts, which John knew to be the quarters of officers. Snug74, too, they looked, with smoke coming out of stovepipes that ran through the roofs of several of them. A tall man, broad of shoulder, slender of waist, blue of eye, yellow of hair, and not more than thirty, came forward to meet them. John recognized at once a typical German officer of high birth, learned in his trade, arrogant75, convinced of his own superiority, but brave and meaning to be fair.
"A peasant of Lorraine, sir," said Lieutenant Schmidt. "He says that his name is Jean Castel, and that he has been selling cattle. We found him wandering between the lines. He was unarmed and he has considerable money."
"Come closer," said the officer to John. "I'm Colonel Joachim Stratz, the commander of this regiment76, and you must give a thorough account of yourself."
John advanced willingly and saluted77, feeling that the glance Colonel Stratz bent78 upon him was heavy and piercing. Yet he awaited the result with confidence. It was true that he was American, but he had been with the French so much now that he had acquired many of their tricks of manner, and his French accent was impeccable.
"You are a seller of cattle?" said Colonel Stratz, suddenly in English.
The words of reply began to form, but John remembered himself in time. He was a French peasant who understood no English, and giving Colonel Stratz a puzzled look he shook his head. But he wondered what suspicion had caused the German to ask him a question in English. He concluded it must be a mere79 chance.
Colonel Stratz then addressed him in German, and John replied to all his queries80, speaking with a strong French accent, repeating the tale that he had told Lieutenant Schmidt, and answering everything so readily and so convincingly that Colonel Joachim Stratz, an acute and able man, was at last satisfied.
"Where do you wish to go now, Castel?" asked the German.
"To Metz, if it please you, sir."
"Wouldn't it be better for you to stay, put on a uniform, take up a rifle and fight for our Kaiser and Fatherland?"
John shook his head and put on the preternaturally wise look of the light-witted.
"I'm no soldier," he replied.
"Why weren't you called? You're of the right age."
"A little weakness of the heart. I cannot endure the great strain, but I can drive the cattle."
"Oh, well, if that is so, you serve us better by sticking to your trade. Lieutenant Schmidt, give him food and drink, and then I'll prepare for him a pass through the lines that will take him part of the way to Metz. He'll have to get other passes as he goes along."
John saluted and thanked Colonel Stratz, and then he and Lieutenant Schmidt approached one of the great German kitchen automobiles. It was easy to play the r?le of a simple and honest peasant, and while he drank good beer and ate good cheese and sausage, he and Lieutenant Schmidt became quite friendly.
Schmidt asked him many questions. He wanted to know if he had been near the French lines, and John laughingly replied that he had been altogether too near. Three rifle bullets fired from some hidden point had whizzed very close to him, and he had run for his life.
"I shall take care never to get lost again," he said, "and I intend to keep well behind our army. The battle line is not the place for Jean Castel. Why spoil a first-class herder to make a second-class soldier?"
He winked81 cunningly at Schmidt, who laughed.
"You're no great hero," said the German, "but if a man wants to take care of his skin can he be blamed for doing so? Still, you're not so safe here."
"How's that?" asked John in assumed alarm.
"Now and then the French send shells over that mountain in front of us and when one is fired it's bound to hit somewhere. We haven't had any at this point yet, but our time is sure to come sooner or later."
"Then I think I'll be going," said John, willing to maintain his new reputation as a timid man.
Schmidt laughed again.
"Oh, no, not yet," he said. "Your passport isn't ready, and without it you can't move. Have another glass of this beer. It was made in Munich, and puts heart into a man."
John drank. It was really fine beer, and the food was excellent, warm and well cooked. He had not realized before how hungry and thirsty he was. It was a hunger and thirst that the cold meat and bread in his knapsack and snow water would not have assuaged82. Many Germans also were refreshing83 themselves. He had noticed that in both armies the troops were always well fed. Distances were short, and an abundance of railways brought vast quantities of supplies from fertile regions.
While he was still eating he heard a shriek84 and a roar and a huge shell burst two or three hundred yards away. Much earth was torn up, four men were wounded slightly and an empty ambulance was overturned, but the regular life of the German army went on undisturbed.
"I told you that we had French messengers now and then," said Lieutenant Schmidt, holding a glass of beer in his right hand and a sausage in his left, "but that message was delivered nearer to us than any other in three days. I don't think they'll fire again for a half-hour, and the chances are a hundred to one that it will fall much further away. So why be disturbed?"
Lieutenant Schmidt was beginning to feel happy. He had a sentimental85 German soul, and all the beer he wanted brought all his benevolence86 to the surface.
"I like you, Castel," he said. "Your blood is French, of course, or it was once, but you of Lorraine have had all the benefits of German culture and training. A German you were born, a German you have remained, and a German you will be all your life. The time is coming when we will extend the blessings87 of our German culture to all of France, and then to England, and then maybe to the whole world."
Lieutenant Schmidt had drunk a great deal of beer, and even beer when taken in large quantities may be heady. His tongue was loose and long.
"And to that distant and barbarous country, America, too," said John.
"Aye, and to the Americans also," said Lieutenant Schmidt. "I hear that they don't love us, although they have much of our blood in their veins88. There are many people among them bearing German names who denounce us. When we finish with our enemies here in Europe we'll teach the barbarous Americans to love the Kaiser."
"A hard task," said John, with meaning.
"So it will be," said Lieutenant Schmidt, taking his meaning differently, "but the harder the task the better we Germans love it. And now, Castel, here comes your passport. Its little winged words will bear you safely to the headquarters of General Osterweiler thirty miles to the north and east, and there you'll have to get another passport, if you can. Auf wiedersehen, Jean Castel. Your forefathers90 were French, but you are German, good German, and I wish you well."
Lieutenant Schmidt's cheeks were very red just then, not altogether with the cold, and his benevolence had extended to the whole world, including the French and English, whom he must fight regretfully.
"Oh," said John, as an afterthought, although he was keenly noting his condition, "while I was wandering in the snow of the big storm, I heard from a sentinel that one of our great generals and beloved princes. Prince Karl of Auersperg, had passed this way with his train."
Perhaps if Lieutenant Schmidt had not taken so much good Munich beer after a long fast he might have become suspicious, because it was not the question that an ordinary peasant and cattle-herder would ask unless the previous conversation had led directly to it. But as it was he fairly exuded91 trust and kindness.
"Not here," he replied, "but at a point further toward the west and north. So great a figure as Prince Karl of Auersperg could scarcely go by without our hearing of it. Colonel Stratz himself spoke92 of it in my presence."
"I saw him once in Metz before the war. A grand and imposing93 figure. Perhaps I shall behold94 him there again in a few days."
"I think not. It was said that the prince was going to his estates in the east. At least, I think I heard something of the kind, but it probably means that he was on his way to the eastern frontier. Prince Karl of Auersperg is not the man to withdraw from the war."
John's heart dropped suddenly. Would he be compelled to follow the prince halfway across Europe. Oh, why had he left the H?tel de l'Europe even for a moment? With Picard's help he might have been able to hold off Auersperg and his followers95, or a lucky shot might have disposed of the prince. He felt it no crime to have wished for such a chance. But strengthening his heart anew he took up the burden that had grown heavier.
"Auf wiedersehen, Lieutenant Schmidt," he said, and whistling softly to himself he began his passage through the German lines, showing his passport more than a dozen times before he passed the last trench and rifle pit, and was alone among the hills behind the German lines. He might have reached the railroad and have gone by train to Metz, but he preferred, for the present at least, to cling to the country, even at the risk of much physical hardship and suffering.
He still carried his blankets, and he was traveling through a region which had been much fought over in the earlier stages of the war. Since the German lines were still in France some peasants had returned to their homes, but many houses were yet abandoned, their owners probably thinking that the tide of battle would roll back upon them, and that it was better to wait.
He turned presently from the hilly path into a good road, paved almost like a street, and breaking from a bush a stout96 stick, which he used peasant fashion as a cane97, he walked briskly along the smooth surface, now almost clear of the snow which had fallen in much smaller quantities in the lowlands.
He met a battery of four twenty-one-centimeter guns with their numerous crews and an escort of cavalry98, advancing to the front, and he stepped to one side of the road to let them pass. The leader of the cavalry hailed him and John's heart gave a sudden alarming throb99 as he recognized von Boehlen. But his courage came back when he saw that he would not have known the Prussian had he remained twenty feet away. Von Boehlen was deeply tanned and much thinner. There were lines in his face and he had all the appearance of a man who had been through almost unbearable100 hardships.
John had no doubt that a long life in the trenches and intense anxiety had made an equal change in himself. The glass had told him that he looked more mature, more like a man of thought and experience. Moreover, he was in the dress of a peasant. After the first painful heartbeat he awaited von Boehlen with confidence.
"Whence do you come?" asked the colonel of Uhlans—colonel he now was.
John pointed29 back over his shoulder and then produced his passport, which Colonel von Boehlen, after reading, handed carefully back to him.
"Did you see anything of the French?" he asked glancing again at John, but without a sign of recognition.
"No, sir," replied John in his new German with a French accent, "but I saw a most unpleasant messenger of theirs."
"A messenger? What kind of a messenger?"
"Long, round and made of steel. It came over a mountain and then with a loud noise divided itself into many parts near the place where I stood. One messenger turned itself into a thousand messengers, and they were all messengers of death. Honored sir, I left that vicinity as soon as I could, and I have been traveling fast, directly away from there, ever since."
Von Boehlen laughed, and then his strong jaws101 closed tighter. After a moment's silence, he said:
"Many such messengers have been passing in recent months. The air has been full of them. If you don't like battles, Castel, I don't blame you for traveling in the direction you take."
John, who had turned his face away for precautionary measures, looked him full in the eyes again, and he found in his heart a little liking102 for the Prussian. Von Boehlen seemed to have lost something of his haughtiness103 and confidence since those swaggering days in Dresden, and the loss had improved him. John saw some signs of a civilian's sense of justice and reason beneath the military gloss104.
"May I pass on, sir?" he asked. "I wish to reach Metz, where I can obtain more horses for the army."
"Why do you walk?"
"I sold my last horse and the automobiles and trains are not for me. I know that the army needs all the space in them and I ask nothing."
"Fare on then," said von Boehlen. "Your papers are in good condition and you'll have no trouble in reaching Metz. But be sure you don't lose your passport."
The injunction was kindly105 and John, thanking him, took up the road. Von Boehlen and his Uhlans rode on, and John looked back once. He caught a single glimpse of the colonel's broad shoulders and then the long column of horsemen rode by. There was no military pomp about them now. Their gray uniforms were worn and stained and many of the men sagged106 in their saddles with weariness. Not a few showed wounds barely healed.
The cavalry were followed by infantry107, and batteries of guns so heavy that often the wheels sank in the paved road. Sometimes the troops sang, pouring forth108 the mighty rolling choruses of the German national songs and hymns. The gay air as of sure victory just ahead that marked them in the closing months of summer the year before had departed, but in its place was a grim resolution that made them seem to John as formidable as ever. The steady beat of solid German feet made a rolling sound which the orders of officers and the creaking of wagons109 and artillery110 scarcely disturbed. The waves of the gray sea swept steadily on toward France.
John showed his passport twice more, but all that day he beheld111 marching troops. In the afternoon it snowed a little again and the slush was everywhere, but he trudged112 bravely through it. Having escaped from the trenches he felt that he could endure anything. What were snow, a gray sky and a cold wind to one who had lived for months on a floor of earth and between narrow walls of half-frozen mud? He was like a prisoner who had escaped from a steel cage.
Toward dark he turned from the road and sought refuge at a low but rather large farmhouse113, standing among trees. He modestly made his way to the rear, and asked shelter for the night in the stable, saying that he would pay. He learned that the place was occupied by people bearing the German name of Gratz, which however signified little on that borderland, which at different times had been under both German and French rule.
Nor did the proprietor114 of the house himself, who came out to see him, enlighten him concerning his sympathies. If he liked France obviously it was no time for him to say so when he was surrounded by the German legions. But John could sleep on the hay in the stable, and have supper and breakfast for certain number of marks or francs which he must show in advance. He showed them and all was well.
John, after carefully scraping all the mud and snow from his boots was allowed to go in the big kitchen and sit on a stone bench beside the wall, while two stout women cooked at a great furnace, and trim maids came for the food which they took upstairs.
When he sank down upon the bench he realized that he was tired through and through. It was no light task even for a hardened soldier to walk all day in bad weather. One of the cooks, a stout middle-aged115 woman whom the others called Johanna, gave him a glance of sympathy. She saw a young man pale from great exertion116, but with a singularly fine face, a face that was exceedingly strong, without being coarse or rough. Johanna thought him handsome, and so did the other cook, also stout and middle-aged, who bore the French name of Nanine.
"Poor young man!" said one and, "Poor young man!" repeated the other. Then they filled a plate with warm food and handed it to him. While he ate he talked with them and the passing maids, who were full of interest in the handsome young stranger. He told them that he was a horse-trader, and that he had been in no battle, nor would he be in any, but he saw that he was not believed, and secretly he was glad of it. These were trim young maids and a young soldier likes admiration117, even if it comes from those who in the world's opinion are of a lower rank than he.
They asked him innumerable questions, and he answered as well as he could. He told of the troops that he had seen, and they informed him that German forces had been passing there at times all through the winter. Princes and great generals had stopped at the farmhouse of Herr Gratz or Monsieur Gratz, as he was indifferently called. The war had ruined many others, but it brought profit to him, because all the guests paid and paid well.
John in a pleased and restful state listened, and he was soothed118 by the sound of their voices. He had often heard old men at home, veterans of the Civil War, tell how grateful to them was the sight of a woman after months of marching and fighting. Now he understood. These were only cooks and housemaids, but their faces were not roughened like those of soldiers, and their voices and footsteps were light and soft. Moreover, they gave him food and drink—for which he would pay farmer Gratz, however—and made much over him.
"We had royal guests last night," said the youngest of the maids, whom they called Annette, a slender blond girl.
"Going to the battle front?"
"Oh, no. They were going the other way, toward Metz, and perhaps only one was a real prince."
"Maybe this prince had seen enough of battles?"
"I cannot say. I saw him only once. He was a large man, middle-aged, and he had a great brown beard."
John's whole body stiffened119. Questions leaped to his lips, but he compelled his muscles to relax and by a great effort he assumed a tone of indifference120.
"What was the prince's name?" he asked with apparent carelessness.
"I don't know, but the people around him were as respectful to him as if he were a king. There were two women with him, but the master himself served these two alone in their room."
"But you caught a glimpse of one of the women, the younger, Annette?" said Johanna.
"So I did, but it was only a glimpse."
"What did she look like?" asked John, who was trying to keep down the beating of his heart.
"It was only a second, but I saw a face that I will never forget. She was very pale, but she had beautiful blue eyes like stars, and the most lovely golden hair that ever grew in the world."
"Julie! My Julie!" groaned121 John under his breath.
"What did you say?"
"I was merely wondering who she was."
"I wondered, too, and so did all of us. We heard a tale that she was a princess, a niece or a daughter, perhaps, of the great prince, with whom she traveled, and we heard another that she and the woman with her were French spies of the most dangerous kind who had been captured and who were being taken into Germany. And the face of the beautiful young lady, which I saw for only a moment, was French, not German."
John felt hot and then cold from head to foot. Julie a spy! Impossible! Spies were shot or hanged, and sometimes women were no exceptions. How could such a charge be brought against her? And yet anything could happen in such a vast confused war as this. Julie, his Julie of the starry122 blue eyes and the deep gold hair to be condemned123 and executed as a spy! A cold shiver seized him again.
Then came sudden enlightenment. Auersperg was medieval. In his heart he arrogated124 to himself the right of justice, the upper, the middle and the low, and all other kinds, but he had ability and mingled125 with it an extreme order of cunning. Julie of the Red Cross, a healer of wounds and disease, would not be held a prisoner, but Julie, a spy, would be kept a close captive, and her life would be in the hands of the general commanding those who had taken her. Oh, it was cunning! So cunning that its success seemed complete, and he thrilled in every vein89 with pain and anger.
"Are you ill?" asked the good Johanna, who had noticed the sudden deepening of his pallor.
"Not at all, thank you," he replied, forcing himself to speak in a level tone. "I feel splendidly. All of you are too kind to me. But that was an interesting story about the prince and the girl whom he brought with him, who might be either a relative or a captive."
"I'm thinking she must have been his niece," said romantic Annette, "but I'm sure she didn't love him. Perhaps she wanted to run away with some fine young officer, and he caught her and brought her back."
"When did they leave?"
"Very early this morning. They came in automobiles, but neither when they arrived nor when they departed was the lady in the machine with the prince. She and the woman with her, who must have been her servant, were in a small machine alone, except for the chauffeur126."
"It's a strange tale. Which way did they go?"
"Toward Metz. We know no more. The prince did not look like a man who would tell his intentions to everybody."
"The story has in it the elements of romance," said John. "I think with you, Annette, that the young lady who must certainly have been of high birth, was being carried away from some young man who loved her well."
A lively discussion followed. John's voice had decided the opinion of the kitchen. It had been divided hitherto, but it was not now. The beautiful young lady with the starry eyes and the golden hair had certainly been torn away, and the sympathy of cooks and maids was strongly for her. While they talked John tried to collect his thoughts. After the first shock, he was convinced that Julie's life was in no danger, but her liberty certainly was. Auersperg would use the charge that she was a spy to hold her, and he was a powerful man. The pressure upon her would grow heavier and heavier all the time. Could she resist it? He might make her think that the fate of a spy would be hers, unless she chose to marry him.
In all the world, since Philip would lie long in the hospital with a wound, there was but one man who could help her. And it was he, John Scott. Out of the depths of his misery127 and despair a star of hope shot up. His own strong heart and arm, and his only, would rescue her. Some minds gather most courage when things are at the worst, like steel hardening in the fire, and John's was markedly of this type. Since chance had brought him on this road, and to the very house in which Julie had slept, the same kindly chance would continue to guide him on the right way. It was a good omen40.
The twilight128 outside, cold and gray, was deepening into night. His appetite was satisfied and he felt buoyant and strong. Had he obeyed his impulse he would have started on the road to Metz in pursuit. But he knew that it was folly129 to exhaust himself in such a manner for nothing. Instead he told Johanna that he would go to the stable now and sleep. Jacques, a stalwart hostler, was called to show him his quarters, and he departed with all their good wishes.
Jacques was a large brown peasant, and as he led the way to the stable he said:
"They told me your name was Jean Castel from Lorraine?"
"Yes, back of Metz."
"And the house is full of German officers."
He pointed to the windows of the dining-room, which were ruddy with light. Young men in tight-fitting uniforms, their blond hair pompadoured, were outlined vividly130 against the glow.
"Will they go forward or will they come back?" asked Jacques in a hoarse131 whisper. "Is the work of Bismarck to stand or is it to undo132 itself?"
John believed Jacques to be a French sympathizer, anxious for an opinion that would agree with his hopes, but one could not be sure in such times, and it behooved133 him above all, with Julie at the end of his journey, to be careful. So he merely shrugged134 his shoulders and replied:
"I know not. I'm a simple buyer and seller of horses. I'm a much better judge of a horse than of an army. I've no idea which side is the stronger. I don't love war, and I'm going away from it as fast as I can."
Jacques laughed.
"Perhaps it will follow you," he said. "There is war everywhere now, or soon will be. I hear that it's spreading all over the world."
John shrugged his shoulders, and followed Jacques up a ladder into a loft135 over the horses. But it was not a bad room. It had two small iron beds and it was secure from wet and cold.
"You take that," said Jacques, pointing to the bed on the right. "It belonged to Fritz who was the hostler here with me. He went to the army at the first call and was killed at Longwy. Fritz was a German, a Saxon, but he and I were friends. We had worked together here three years. I'd have been glad if the bullets had spared him. The horses miss him, too. He had a kind hand with them and they liked him. Poor Fritz! You sleep in the bed of a good man."
"My eyes are so heavy that I think I'll go to bed now."
"The bed is waiting for you. It's always welcome to one who has walked all day in the cold as you have. I have more work. I have the tasks of that poor Fritz and my own to do now. It may be an hour, two hours before I'm through, but if you sleep as soundly as I do I'll not wake you up."
John sank into deep slumber7 almost at once and knew nothing until the next morning.
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收听单词发音
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1
inured
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| adj.坚强的，习惯的 | |
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2
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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3
reeking
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| v.发出浓烈的臭气( reek的现在分词 )；散发臭气；发出难闻的气味 (of sth)；明显带有（令人不快或生疑的跡象） | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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relaxation
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| n.松弛，放松；休息；消遣；娱乐 | |
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slumbering
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| 微睡，睡眠（slumber的现在分词形式） | |
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7
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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8
vigilant
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| adj.警觉的，警戒的，警惕的 | |
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9
scout
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| n.童子军，侦察员；v.侦察，搜索 | |
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scant
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| adj.不充分的，不足的；v.减缩，限制，忽略 | |
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11
hopped
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| 跳上[下]( hop的过去式和过去分词 )； 单足蹦跳； 齐足（或双足）跳行； 摘葎草花 | |
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12
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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13
extraordinarily
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| adv.格外地；极端地 | |
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14
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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15
awaken
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| vi.醒，觉醒；vt.唤醒，使觉醒，唤起，激起 | |
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uncommonly
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| adv. 稀罕(极，非常) | |
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17
wireless
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| adj.无线的；n.无线电 | |
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18
sputtering
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| n.反应溅射法；飞溅；阴极真空喷镀；喷射v.唾沫飞溅( sputter的现在分词 )；发劈啪声；喷出；飞溅出 | |
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19
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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20
slaughter
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| n.屠杀，屠宰；vt.屠杀，宰杀 | |
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21
scouting
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| 守候活动，童子军的活动 | |
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22
suffusing
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| v.（指颜色、水气等）弥漫于，布满( suffuse的现在分词 ) | |
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23
luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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24
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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25
faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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26
halfway
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| adj.中途的，不彻底的，部分的；adv.半路地，在中途，在半途 | |
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27
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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28
lair
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| n.野兽的巢穴；躲藏处 | |
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29
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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30
flexing
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| n.挠曲，可挠性v.屈曲( flex的现在分词 )；弯曲；（为准备大干而）显示实力；摩拳擦掌 | |
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31
corruption
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| n.腐败，堕落，贪污 | |
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32
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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33
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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34
aviator
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| n.飞行家，飞行员 | |
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35
poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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36
eastward
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| adv.向东；adj.向东的；n.东方，东部 | |
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37
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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38
requisite
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| adj.需要的，必不可少的；n.必需品 | |
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39
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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40
omen
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| n.征兆，预兆；vt.预示 | |
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41
westward
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| n.西方，西部；adj.西方的，向西的；adv.向西 | |
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42
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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43
hostilities
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| n.战争；敌意(hostility的复数)；敌对状态；战事 | |
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44
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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45
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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46
steering
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| n.操舵装置 | |
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47
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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48
knightly
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| adj. 骑士般的 adv. 骑士般地 | |
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49
sparsely
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| adv.稀疏地；稀少地；不足地；贫乏地 | |
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50
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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51
larch
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| n.落叶松 | |
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52
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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53
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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54
brook
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| n.小河，溪；v.忍受，容让 | |
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55
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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56
loutish
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| adj.粗鲁的 | |
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57
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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58
ridge
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| n.山脊；鼻梁；分水岭 | |
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59
steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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60
shimmer
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| v./n.发微光，发闪光；微光 | |
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61
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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62
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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63
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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64
lieutenant
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| n.陆军中尉，海军上尉；代理官员，副职官员 | |
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65
battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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66
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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67
barbarians
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| n.野蛮人( barbarian的名词复数 )；外国人；粗野的人；无教养的人 | |
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68
sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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69
automobiles
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| n.汽车( automobile的名词复数 ) | |
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70
rations
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| 定量( ration的名词复数 )； 配给量； 正常量； 合理的量 | |
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71
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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72
gorges
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| n.山峡，峡谷( gorge的名词复数 )；咽喉v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的第三人称单数 )；作呕 | |
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73
crests
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| v.到达山顶（或浪峰）( crest的第三人称单数 )；到达洪峰，达到顶点 | |
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74
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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75
arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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76
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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77
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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78
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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79
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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80
queries
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| n.问题( query的名词复数 )；疑问；询问；问号v.质疑，对…表示疑问( query的第三人称单数 )；询问 | |
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81
winked
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| v.使眼色( wink的过去式和过去分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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82
assuaged
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| v.减轻( assuage的过去式和过去分词 )；缓和；平息；使安静 | |
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83
refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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84
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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85
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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86
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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87
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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88
veins
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| n.纹理；矿脉( vein的名词复数 )；静脉；叶脉；纹理 | |
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89
vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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90
forefathers
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| n.祖先，先人；祖先，祖宗( forefather的名词复数 )；列祖列宗；前人 | |
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91
exuded
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| v.缓慢流出，渗出，分泌出( exude的过去式和过去分词 )；流露出对（某物）的神态或感情 | |
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92
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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93
imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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94
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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95
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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97
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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98
cavalry
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| n.骑兵；轻装甲部队 | |
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99
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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100
unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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101
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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102
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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103
haughtiness
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| n.傲慢；傲气 | |
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104
gloss
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| n.光泽，光滑；虚饰；注释；vt.加光泽于；掩饰 | |
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105
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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106
sagged
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| 下垂的 | |
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107
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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108
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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109
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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110
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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111
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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112
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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113
farmhouse
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| n.农场住宅（尤指主要住房） | |
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114
proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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115
middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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116
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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117
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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118
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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119
stiffened
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| 加强的 | |
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120
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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121
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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122
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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123
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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124
arrogated
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| v.冒称，妄取( arrogate的过去式和过去分词 )；没来由地把…归属（于） | |
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125
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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126
chauffeur
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| n.(受雇于私人或公司的)司机；v.为…开车 | |
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127
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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128
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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129
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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130
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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131
hoarse
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| adj.嘶哑的，沙哑的 | |
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132
undo
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| vt.解开，松开；取消，撤销 | |
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133
behooved
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| v.适宜( behoove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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134
shrugged
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| vt.耸肩（shrug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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135
loft
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| n.阁楼，顶楼 | |
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