Part 9 (1/2)

On, on they sped, growing smaller and smaller every second. Presently it became impossible to distinguish them apart, but we knew that they had come within range of each other, for the two specks rose and fell by turns now soaring high, now dipping precipitately, seeming almost to touch at times. Then, just as they were about to disappear, one of them suddenly collapsed and fell. Which one, we never knew.

Towards dusk the _garde-champtre_ appeared and left orders that George and Leon must take their turns at mounting guard. Four hours right out of the sleep of a peasant boy especially when he is overworked, is likely to leave him useless the next day. It provoked me a little, but then it was duty and they must obey. The boys came on at eleven and having decided it would be better to get in an hour or so of rest beforehand, they retired to the hay loft. I promised to look in on them in case they should fail to waken, and at the appointed time I put on my sweater and went down to find, as I had expected, both youths slumbering peacefully, blissfully unconscious of the time. Poor little chaps, it seemed a pity to wake them, but what was to be done? Presently an idea of replacing them myself dawned upon me: a second later it so enchanted me that I wouldn't have had them wake for anything. The whole thing was beginning to be terribly romantic.

Slipping quietly away, I went to my room and got my revolver, and then going to the south front of the chateau, I softly whistled for my dogs.

Three big greyhounds, a shepherd dog and a setter responded immediately, and just as I was about to shut the little yellow door, old Betsy, my favorite Boston bull, came panting around the corner of the house. With these five as bodyguard I sauntered up the road in the brilliant moonlight, arriving in front of the town hall just as the clock was striking eleven. I must say that my appearance and announcement rather shocked two elderly men who had been on the watch since seven o'clock.

Monsieur Demarcq protested that such a thing as a woman mounting guard had never been beard of, but I swiftly argued him out of that idea. What was required of me? That I stop every pa.s.ser-by and every vehicle?

Didn't he think me capable of doing so? And I pointed to my dogs and my revolver. The weight of the argument was so evidently on my side that they had nothing to do but to submit, and laughingly Mr. Foeter put me in possession of a heavy old gun, three packages of cartridges, and the lantern. Then once again they asked if I couldn't be dissuaded, to which I jokingly replied that I would set my dogs after them and drive them home if they didn't make haste to go there at once. That admonition proved more efficacious than I had dared hope, and a.s.sured me that my faithful beasts rejoiced in a ferocious reputation.

All sorts of fantastic ideas flitted through my brain as I took possession of my post. I began, however, by setting the lantern in the middle of the road, exactly in the center of the chain, as a warning to any on-comer. Then by the moonlight, I proceeded to examine my gun. It was a very primitive arm, and after carefully weighing it in my hands, I decided to abandon all thought of stalking up and down the road with such an implement on my shoulder. That kind of glory was not worth the morrow's ache, so I deposited the antiquated weapon in the hallway of the school house and resolved to rely on my Browning.

Afterwards I came out and seating myself on the bench with my back against the wall, waited for something to happen. My dogs seemed to have comprehended the gravity of my mission, and crouched close to my feet, c.o.c.king their ears at the slightest sound.

Little by little the great harvest moon climbed high behind our old Roman church, perched on the embankment opposite, bathing everything in molten silver, and causing the tall pine-trees in the little cemetery adjacent to cast long black shadows on the road. Down towards the Marne, the frogs were croaking merrily somewhere in the distance a night locust buzzed, and alarmed by the striking of midnight the owls who nested in the belfry, fluttered out into the night and settling on the church top, began their plaintive hooting. Still no one pa.s.sed.

Such calm reigned that it was almost impossible to believe that over there, beyond those distant hills, battle and slaughter were probably raging.

Presently a s.h.i.+ver warned me that I had been seated long enough; so, marking a hundred steps, I began to pace slowly up and down, watching the ever-changing firmament. The first gray streaks of dawn were beginning to lighten the east when a growl from Tiger made me face about very abruptly. I must admit that my heart began beating abnormally, and the hand in my pocket gripped my revolver as though it were a live animal and likely to escape.

A second later all the dogs repeated the growl, and then I could hear the clicking of a pair of sabots on the road. The noise approached, and my guardians looked towards me, every muscle in their bodies straining, waiting for the single word, ”_Apporte!_”

”_Couchez!_” I hissed, and awaited developments.

The footsteps drew nearer and nearer, and in a moment the stooping figure of an old peasant came over the brow of the hill. The gait was too familiar to be mistaken. But what on earth was father Poupard doing on the highroad at that hour?

When he was within speaking distance I came out from the shadow of the wall and put the question. If he had suddenly been confronted with a spook I do not think the old man could have been more astonished. He stopped dead still, as though not knowing whether to turn about and run, or to advance and take the consequences. Realizing his embarra.s.sment, I hastily proffered a few words of greeting, and then he chose the latter prerogative.

”-Vous?_” he said, when at length he found his tongue. ”_Vous?_”

”Yes--why not?”

”Who's with you?”

”n.o.body. Why?”

He seemed more embarra.s.sed than ever. Evidently he hadn't yet ”caught on.”

”What can I do for you?” I continued.

He still hesitated, looking first at me and then at a bottle he carried in his hand. Finally he resolved to make a clean breast of it.

”Why,” he said, ”I didn't expect to find a woman here, least of all _une chatelaine_. It rather startled me! You see, I've got into the habit of coming round towards dawn. The boys begin to get chilly about that time, and are glad enough to have a go at my fruit brandy. They say I'm too old to mount guard, so I must serve my country as best I can. Will you have some--my own brew?”

I declined, but he was not offended; yet he seemed reluctant to go.

”Sit down,” I said. ”It won't belong before some of the men will be pa.s.sing by on their way to the fields, and then you won't have made your journey for nothing.”

Pere Potipard gladly accepted, and after a generous swig at his brandy, began telling me about what happened at Villiers during the German invasion in 1870. As he talked on, night gradually disappeared, and when the clock in the belfry tolled three A. M. my successors came to relieve me. I blew out the lantern and walked home in broad daylight.

The boys looked very sheepish when they learned what had happened, but as I did not boast of my exploit, merely taking it as a matter of course, they had no way of approaching the subject, and like many other things of the kind, it was soon forgotten in the pursuing of our onerous daily tasks, and the moral anxiety we were experiencing.