Part 19 (1/2)
”And at Beausejour?”
”Yes, sir.”
”And Vauquois?”
”Yes, sir.”
The eyes of the two veterans met; the officer's glance seeking to pierce that of the soldier in front of him. Then suddenly, in an irresistible burst of sympathy and respect, he thrust out his hand and caught up one of Cyprien's bandaged pair.
”I was there, too,” was all he said.
Instantly sobered, our hero straightened up and literally crushed his superior's fingers in his mighty fist.
”Come with me,” said the officer; ”I know a place where you can rest until it's time to leave. And you boys here,” said he turning towards them, ”you'll see to it that he doesn't miss his train.”
Night, inky black, fathomless night, had now settled about us. In the distance one could just discern the red and green signal lamps--at closer range the burning tip of a cigar or cigarette. The soldiers turned up their collars. The wind s.h.i.+fting to the north was piercing cold. One had to walk briskly up and down to avoid becoming chilled.
Way at the other end of the platform the flare of fugitive matches revealed shadows moving about as though searching for something upon the ground.
”What are you looking for?”
”A third-cla.s.s return ticket for Royan. That old lady over there has lost hers.”
We turned about to see a poor old wrinkled soul, in her native Norman costume, wringing her hands in distress.
”What a misfortune! Oh dear, oh dear, what a misfortune! What will become of me now? What shall I do?”
And to each inquisitive newcomer she babbled forth her story of a wounded grandson whom she was on her way to visit. The curate and another man of her village had seen to her expenses. They had purchased her ticket and handed it to her with strict instructions not to lose it. For safety's sake she had knotted it in the corner of her handkerchief--and now it wasn't there!
The inquirer then examined her handkerchief, made her stand up and shake her clothing, turn her pockets inside out, empty her baskets and her handbag; and still not willing to trust the thoroughness of his predecessors he would begin looking all over the immediate vicinity, match in hand. So presently nearly two hundred men, forgetting their soreness and fatigue, were down on their knees scouring every nook and cranny. The sleepers were awakened, the drinkers routed out and put to work, scanning every inch of ground.
A loud and persistent ringing of an electric bell sounded on the air.
”Hey there, fellows!” called a tall Zouave. ”Get together, the train is announced, and since we can't find grandma's ticket we can't leave the old girl alone in the dark, so come on, chip in--we'll make it up to her. She says it cost forty-two francs and ten centimes. Are you ready?”
And removing his helmet he started to make the rounds. In an instant coppers and silver rang in the steel recipient.
”Stop! that's enough.”
They retired to count.
”Chic--there's some left over!”
”Never mind, she'll buy something for the kid with it.”
Some one purchased the ticket.
”There now, grandma, a new ticket and enough to buy your boy a cake with, so you should worry! But as you're too young to travel alone, we're going to take you in with us. We just happen to be going your way. Here Ballut, Langlois! Quick there--take her baskets. Now then, don't let go my arm--here comes the train. s.h.!.+ don't cry, there's nothing to bawl about, we're all good fellows--all of us got grandmas who'd make just as big fools of themselves if they had to travel.”
And with infinite care and tenderness a dozen hands hoisted their precious burden into the dimly lighted wooden-benched compartment.