Part 6 (1/2)

”But, my dear child, think of the risks,” said her hostess, by no means unwilling, but anxious to give her a fair chance of escaping from such a dangerous place.

Here Father Constantine chimed in. His bird-like eyes saw a great deal and he shuddered at the thought of Ian's marrying a heretic. He had often wondered of late when those two brothers of hers were coming to take her away. And here was a good opportunity to get rid of her at once.

”You cannot stay here, Mademoiselle.” He spoke French, not trusting his halting English in so important a matter. ”The Germans will be exceedingly cruel to the English. I know how they hate you. I have been in Germany many times, for my rheumatism. If they find you here in Ruvno they will be capable of doing unspeakable things to you and bad things to us, for having you here.” He turned to the Countess, nursing his bundle of sausages, a shriveled, eager figure in his linen dust-cloak and his air of the family confidant and confessor. ”Madame, think of the responsibility. Imagine your terrible remorse if anything happened to Mademoiselle.”

”The same things might just as well happen to me if I left this minute,”

protested Minnie, determined to fight for her cause. ”The steamer might be captured by the Germans, England might be invaded. Of course, I hope it won't, but my brothers say the government have never bothered to prepare for this. I may not even be able to reach home. Father Constantine could not get to his cure at that place with the unp.r.o.nounceable name. And it's lots nearer than England.”

”That's true,” agreed the Countess, who knew all about her chaplain's dread of heretics. Besides, she was loth to lose Minnie. Apart from her affection for the girl and her reluctance to send her off on a long journey, dark with unknown perils, she thought of Ian. Supposing they were burned out of house and home, as seemed more than likely, it would be a comfort to her to know that he could settle in England with Minnie to look after him till, one vague day, the Germans were beaten. She told herself that she would never survive the ruin of her home. It was almost as great a part of her existence as Ian himself. No: she did not want to part with Minnie; Minnie would look after him when she was no more. She smiled across at Father Constantine.

”You see,” she said, ”we can always send her away when danger is really near. In the meantime, let us wait till the trains are running again.”

Here Ian intervened. He had been questioning the Jew about Kalisz, without getting any clear statements from his poor, muddled brain.

”We can't let Minnie run such risks. It's bad enough for us Poles, who live in a country which is always a charnel house when war comes. But why should she get mixed up in it?”

Minnie's heart sank. He was so very matter of fact. But she would not give in.

”Why? For lots of reasons. I'd be all alone if I did reach home. You know the boys will be fighting.”

”England hasn't declared war yet,” said Father Constantine, handing his sausages over to Zosia. He had just remembered they were in his lap.

”She may remain neutral.”

”She won't!” cried Minnie hotly. ”If that were possible I'd change my nationality!”

Father Constantine made a hopeless little gesture and let Zosia help him off with his execrable dust-cloak, watching the Countess furtively the while. He felt very much ashamed of having neglected to remove it in the hall. It was not only a breach of good manners, but a sign of his extreme agitation.

”Take it away at once!” he whispered to poor Zosia. She went off with it and the sausages, to weep on the ample bosom of old Barysia, Ian's long-since-pensioned nurse.

Thinking she had settled the priest, Minnie turned to her host.

”If you go away to fight with the Russians I mean to look after the Countess--and don't imagine I'm going to leave Poland and my Polish friends just because you're all in trouble!”

This touched them all, even the priest. The Countess was won over before, but Ian still meant to get her away that evening. Vanda would stop with his mother. The only feeling he had for Minnie just then was fear her brothers would blame him for keeping her.

The matter was partially settled by a couple of young Russians, whom a servant announced as waiting for Ian in the library. He hurried out to see them and did not return for some time. The others eagerly asked his news.

”It's true about Kalisz,” he said. ”But the Russians are sending troops up there as fast as they can. Incidentally, they are requisitioning all the cars and most of my horses.”

”Cars! Then no Warsaw for me to-night,” said Minnie.

Ian gave her an odd look. She rather annoyed him that morning, he knew not why.

”No,” he retorted. ”And you don't seem to wonder how I'm going to get in the crops if all my men are called to the colors and my cattle are taken off.”

”Oh, I didn't think of that,” she said, repentant.