Part 45 (1/2)
”Maryette!” he whispered. ”Where are you, little sweetheart? Forgive me, I could not wait any longer. I adore you----”
All at once he discovered her standing motionless in the shadow of the great bell Bayard--sprang toward her, eager, ardent, triumphant.
”Maryette,” he whispered, ”I love you! I shall teach you what a lover is----”
Suddenly he caught a glimpse of her face; the terrible expression in her eyes checked him.
”What has happened?” he asked, bewildered. And then he caught sight of the pistol in her hand.
”What's that for?” he demanded harshly. ”Are you afraid to love me? Do you think I'm the kind of lover to stop for a thing like that----”
She said, in a low, distinct voice:
”Don't move! Put up both hands instantly!”
”What!” he snapped out, like the crack of a lash.
”I know who you are. You're a Boche and no Yankee! Turn your back and raise your arms!”
For a moment they looked at each other.
”I think,” she said, steadily, ”you had better explain your gas cylinders and balloons to the gendarmes at the Poste.”
”No,” he said, ”I'll explain them to you, _now_!----”
”If you touch your pistol, I fire!----”
But already he had whipped out his pistol; and she fired instantly, smas.h.i.+ng his right hand to pulp.
”You d.a.m.ned h.e.l.l-cat!” he screamed, stretching out his shattered hand in an agony of impotent fury. Blood rained from it on the stone flags.
Suddenly he started toward her.
”Don't stir!” she whispered. ”Turn your back and raise both arms!”
His face became ghastly.
”Let me go, in G.o.d's name!” he burst out in a strangled voice. ”Don't send me before a firing squad! Listen to me, little comrade--I surrender myself to your mercy----”
”Then keep away from me! Keep your distance!” she cried, retreating. He followed, fawning:
”Listen! We were such good comrades----”
”Don't come any nearer to me!” she called out sharply; but he still shuffled toward her, whimpering, drenched in blood, both hands uplifted.
”Kamerad!” he whined, ”Kamerad--” and suddenly launched a kick at her.
She just avoided it, springing behind the bell Bayard; and he rushed at her and struck with both uplifted arms, showering her with blood, but not quite reaching her.
In the darkness among the beams and the deep shadows of the bells she could hear him hunting for her, breathing heavily and making ferocious, inarticulate noises, as she swung herself up onto the first beam above and continued to crawl upward.