Part 31 (2/2)
”Colonel Hamilton,” said Farnsworth in a husky voice, ”I slept on the ground under a shed last night in order that Miss Roussillon might be somewhat comfortable.”
”Humph! Well, see that you do not do it again. This girl is guilty of harboring a spy and resisting a lawful attempt of my guards to capture him. Confine her in the place prepared for prisoners and see that she stays there until I am ready to fix her punishment.”
”There is no place fit for a young girl to stay in,” Farnsworth ventured. ”She can have no comfort or--”
”Take her along, sir; any place is good enough for her so long as she behaves like a--”
”Very well,” Farnsworth bluntly interrupted, thus saving Alice the stroke of a vile comparison. ”Come with me, please, Miss Roussillon.”
He pulled her toward the door, then dropped the arm he had grasped and murmured an apology.
She followed him out, holding her head high. No one looking on would have suspected that a sinking sensation in her heart made it difficult for her to walk, or that her eyes, s.h.i.+ning like stars, were so inwardly clouded with distress that she saw her way but dimly.
It was a relief to Hamilton when Helm a few minutes later entered the room with something breezy to say.
”What's up now, if I may ask?” the jolly American demanded. ”What's this I hear about trouble with the French women? Have they begun a revolution?”
”That elephant, Gaspard Roussillon, came back into town last night,”
said Hamilton sulkily.
”Well, he went out again, didn't he?”
”Yes, but--”
”Stepped on somebody's toe first, eh?”
”The guard tried to capture him, and that girl of his wounded Lieutenant Barlow in the neck with a sword. Roussillon fought like a tiger and the men swear that the devil himself appeared on the scene to help the Frenchman out.”
”Moral: Be generous in your dealings with Frenchmen and Frenchwomen and so get the devil on your side.”
”I've got the girl a prisoner, and I swear to you that I'll have her shot this time if--”
”Why not shoot her yourself? You oughtn't to s.h.i.+rk a dirty job like that and force it upon your men.”
Hamilton laughed and elevated his shoulders as if to shake off an annoying load. Just then a young officer with a white bandage around his neck entered and saluted. He was a small, soft-haired, blue-eyed man of reckless bearing, with marks of dissipation sharply cut into his face. He saluted, smiling self-consciously.
”Well, Barlow,” said Hamilton, ”the kitten scratched you, did she?”
”Yes, slightly, and I don't think I've been treated fairly in the matter, sir.”
”How so?”
”I stood the brunt and now Captain Farnsworth gets the prize.” He twisted his mouth in mock expression of maudlin disappointment. ”I'm always cheated out of the sweets. I never get anything for gallant conduct on the field.”
”Poor boy! It is a shame. But I say, Lieutenant, has Roussillon really escaped, or is he hidden somewhere in town? Have you been careful?”
”Oh, it's the Indians. They all swear by these Frenchmen. You can't get any help from them against a fellow like Roussillon. In fact they aid him; he's among them now.”
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