Part 10 (2/2)

”Raise him!” said a voice that he knew was Lorraine's.

They lifted Jack to his knees; he stumbled to his feet, torn, b.l.o.o.d.y, filthy with mud, but in his arms, clasped tight, was the steel box, intact.

”Lorraine!--my box!--look!” cried her father, and the lantern shook in his hands as he clutched the casket.

But Lorraine stepped forward and flung both arms around Jack Marche's neck.

Her face was deadly pale; the blood oozed from the wounded shoulder. For the first time her father saw that she had been shot. He stared at her, clutching the steel box in his nervous hands.

With all the strength she had left she crushed Jack to her and kissed him. Then, weak with the loss of blood, she leaned on her father.

”I am going to faint,” she whispered; ”help me, father.”

VI

TRAINS EAST AND WEST

It was dawn when Jack Marche galloped into the court-yard of the Chateau Morteyn and wearily dismounted. People were already moving about the upper floors; servants stared at him as he climbed the steps to the terrace; his face was scratched, his clothes smeared with caked mud and blood.

He went straight to his chamber, tore off his clothes, took a hasty plunge in a cold tub, and rubbed his aching limbs until they glowed. Then he dressed rapidly, donned his riding breeches and boots, slipped a revolver into his pocket, and went down-stairs, where he could already hear the others at breakfast.

Very quietly and modestly he told his story between sips of cafe-au-lait.

”You see,” he ended, ”that the country is full of spies, who hesitate at nothing. There were three or four of them who tried to rob the Chateau; they seem perfectly possessed to get at the secrets of the Marquis de Nesville's balloons. There is no doubt but that for months past they have been making maps of the whole region in most minute detail; they have evidently been expecting this war for a long time. Incidentally, now that war is declared, they have opened hostilities on their own account.”

”You did for some of them?” asked Sir Thorald, who had been fidgeting and staring at Jack through a gold-edged monocle.

”No--I--we rode down and trampled a man in the dark; I should think it would have been enough to brain him, but when I galloped back just now he was gone, and I don't know how badly he was. .h.i.t.”

”But the fellow that started to smash you with a paving-stone--the Marquis de Nesville fired at him, didn't he?”

insisted Sir Thorald.

”Yes, I think he hit him, but it was a long shot. Lorraine was superb--”

He stopped, colouring up a little.

”She did it all,” he resumed--”she rode through the woods like a whirlwind! Good heavens! I never saw such a cyclone incarnate!

And her pluck when she was. .h.i.t!--and then very quietly she went to her father and fainted in his arms.”

Jack had not told all that had happened. The part that he had not told was the part that he thought of most--Lorraine's white arms around his neck and the touch of her innocent lips on his forehead. In silent consternation the young people listened; Dorothy slipped out of her chair and came and rested her hands on her brother's shoulder; Betty Castlemaine looked at Cecil with large, questioning eyes that asked, ”Would you do something heroic for me?” and Cecil's eyes replied, ”Oh, for a chance to annihilate a couple of regiments!” This pleased Betty, and she ate a m.u.f.fin with appreciation. The old vicomte leaned heavily on his elbow and looked at his wife, who sat opposite, pallid and eating nothing. He had decided to remain at Morteyn, but this episode disquieted him--not on his own account.

”Helen,” he said, ”Jack and I will stay, but you must go with the children. There is no danger--there can be no invasion, for our troops will be pa.s.sing here by night; I only wish to be sure that--that in case--in case things should go dreadfully wrong, you would not be compelled to witness anything unpleasant.”

Madame de Morteyn shook her head gently.

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