CHAPTER XV
BUBU
Ruth arrived at Clair again late in the evening and bade MonsieurLafrane good-night at the hospital entrance. On the following day thegirl of the Red Mill was permitted to go to the Chateau Marchand tocall.
The secret agent had made it plain to Ruth that he held her in no faultfor the seeming fiasco of their journey to the field hospital and itsvicinity. The sudden death of the German officer in Hut H had been anact beyond human control. The disappearance of Nicko, the chocolatepeddler, was an act of the military authorities.
On her own part Ruth was so confused regarding Major Henri Marchandthat she dared not mention his name to Monsieur Lafrane. Matters musttake their natural course--for a time, at least.
Nevertheless, the American girl had a particular object in mind whenshe set forth briskly for the chateau on this afternoon. She was freeuntil bedtime, and during this contemplated call on the countess shewas determined to learn what the young Count Marchand looked like.
On the edge of the town she spied an automobile approaching, and soonrecognized Henriette Dupay behind the windshield. Ruth stopped andwaved her hand. For a moment she thought the French girl wasdisinclined to stop at all.
However, Ruth did not propose to give Henriette an opportunity to showany unfriendliness. She liked the girl and she understood that thewhole matter would be smoothed over in time. The reason for AuntAbelard's uprooting would become apparent to the French people, andtheir momentary feeling against the Americans would change.
Henriette's face was quite flushed, however, when she stopped her carand returned briefly Ruth's greeting.
"How is Aunt Abelard?" the latter asked. She told Henriette how shehad chanced to be present when the old woman was forced to leave herhomestead.
"Ah, Mademoiselle, she is heart-broken!" declared Henriette, quiteeschewing English now. "Yes, heart-broken! She arrived at our housewith only two pullets. All the others were stolen by the Americans,"and the girl tossed her head angrily.
"How about the forty francs she was given in lieu of the pullets?" Ruthasked, laughing. "Did she tell you about that?"
"But yes," returned the French girl, rather taken aback. "But that wasgiven to her by Major Henri Marchand. He is so good!"
"True. But it is probable that she will make application to theAmerican officers and will be reimbursed a second time," Ruth saiddryly. "As far as the pullets go, Henriette, I believe they are asmall loss to Aunt Abelard."
"But her house! Her home!" ejaculated the French girl.
"Of what use would that be to her had she remained and there shouldcome the bombardment that everybody says is coming? The German shellsmay tear her cottage to bits."
Henriette shrugged her truly French shoulders. She evidently did notbelieve in the threatened bombardment. The guns of the front had beenquiet for two days.
So she nodded to Ruth rather coldly and drove on into town. But Ruthwent away smiling. She was quite convinced that Henriette and herfamily would soon find out their mistake, and then they would be onfriendly terms with her again. The Latin nature is easily offended;but it is usually just.
She saw nobody else in her walk to the chateau. There she had to waitfor some minutes at the gate for Dolge to answer her summons.
"The Mademoiselle Fielding," he said, bowing. "I am sure the countesswill approve my asking you in at once. She is fond of you,Mademoiselle."
"I am glad, Dolge. I like to have people approve of me," smiled Ruth.
"Ah, yes, Mademoiselle. And the major--our Henri, our cadet! I amsure _he_ approves of you, Mademoiselle."
The American girl flushed warmly, but managed to hide her disturbedcountenance from the old serving man.
"He is not at home, is he, Dolge?" she quietly asked.
"But, no, Mademoiselle. He went hurriedly yesterday. And would youbelieve it?"
"Believe what?"
"He went in one of those flying machines. _Oui_! _Oui_! Right upinto the sky, Mademoiselle," went on the old man excitedly. "Yonder hemounted it beyond the gates. Ah, these times! It is so that soon onewill take an aeroplane as one takes a taxicab in the city. Is it not?"
Ruth listened and marveled. Major Marchand flying into the air fromthe chateau here on yesterday, when it was only yesterday that she methim, in his brave uniform, taking pity on a poor old woman who wasdriven out of the battle zone?
Suddenly her mind caught the point. The cogs slipped intojuxtaposition, as it were, and everything unrolled in its propersequence before her.
It was on yesterday, as she went toward the Dupay farm, that she hadseen the rising aeroplane, from which had been dropped the paper bomb,wherein Ruth had found the message from Tom Cameron. It was from justbeyond the gates that Dolge said the machine rose that had borne awayMajor Marchand from the chateau.
"The time, Dolge?" she demanded, stopping short in the walk and lookingat the surprised old servant. "The time that Major Henri flew away?"
"Oh, la! It was around one of the clock. Not later."
That was the hour! Ruth was confident she was making no mistake now.It was either the major, or the pilot of the plane, that had droppedthe message to her. Two hours and a half later she had seen the majorat the cot of Aunt Abelard. He might easily have flown clear beyondthe German lines and back again by that time. And he might easily haveworn his major's uniform beneath his other garments.
But Tom's message. That was the point that puzzled her. If dropped byMajor Marchand, how had he obtained it? What did the French officer,whose loyalty she doubted, have to do with Tom Cameron, whose loyaltyshe never for a moment doubted?
Ruth went on ahead of the wondering Dolge, vastly troubled. At everyturn she was meeting incidents or surprising discoveries that entangledher mind more and more deeply in a web of doubt and mystery.
Where was Tom? Where did the major fly to? Where was he coming fromwhen she had seen him walking down that country road where Aunt Abelardwas having her unfortunate argument with the American soldiers?
The twists and turns of this mystery were enough to drive the girldistracted. And each incident which rose seemed to be dovetailed tosome other part of the mystery.
Now she was suddenly sorry that she had not opened her heart entirelyto Monsieur Lafrane. She wished she had told him about Tom Cameron,and the fears she felt for him, and what was said about him by hiscomrades. He might at least have been able to advise her.
She came to the chateau, therefore, in a most uncertain frame of mind.She was really in no mood for a social call.
But there was the countess walking on the paved court before the maindoor of the chateau. It was a fine day, and she walked up and down,with a shawl about her shoulders, humming a cheerful little song.
"Dear Mademoiselle Ruth!" she said, giving the girl her hands--soft andwhite, with a network of blue veins on their backs. "I am charmed. Ifit were not for you and our little Hetty I should scarcely feel I had asocial life at all."
She spoke to Dolge as he hobbled away.
"Tell them to make tea," she said.
"Yes, Madame la Countess," he mumbled.
She took the arm of the strong young girl and walked with her up anddown the portico.
"Henri will be disappointed in not seeing you, Mademoiselle. He wentyesterday--called back to his duties."
"And by aeroplane, they tell me," answered the girl.
"Think!" exclaimed the countess, shrugging her shoulders. "A fewmonths ago the thought of one of my boys mounting into the air wouldhave kept me awake all of the night. And I slept like a child!"
"We grow used to almost everything, do we not?" Ruth said.
"War changes our outlook on life. Of course, I am not assured that hesafely landed yesterday----"
"I can assure you of that, Madame, myself," said Ruth, without thinkingfar ahead when she said it.
"_You_, Mademoiselle?"
"Yes. I saw him--on the ground. He was all
right," the girl added,dryly.
"You saw him after he left here!" exclaimed the countess. "I do notunderstand."
The girl saw she would have to go into particulars. But she did nottell the countess she had taken her trip to the field hospital with thesecret agent, M. Lafrane.
"Dear me! That was so like him," the countess observed when she hadheard the story of Aunt Abelard and her pullets. "His brother, too----"
"Is Count Allaire like his brother?" Ruth asked quietly.
"Yes. In many ways."
"I have never seen a picture of the count, have I?" the American girlpursued.
"But, yes! You have but to look at Henri," laughed the countess. "Alittle older. Perhaps a little more serious of expression. But thesame tall, slim, graceful figure, both. Pardon my pride in my sons,Mademoiselle. They are my all now. And they are both like me, Ibelieve," she added softly.
Ruth looked at her with luminous eyes.
"Like you in every way, Madame? Given so entirely to the service oftheir country?"
"But yes! Too recklessly patriotic, I fear," said the countess. Then,with a start, she exclaimed: "What is this? Do my eyes deceive me? Isit that wicked Bubu, running wild and free again?"
Ruth turned quickly. Crossing the wide lawns she saw the greyhoundpass swiftly. He was without his blanket, and it seemed to Ruth asthough the barrel of his body was much lighter of color than his chestand legs. Like a flash he was behind the chateau.
"_Ma foi_!" gasped the countess. "What is---- Something----"
She started to follow the dog. As she still clung to Ruth's arm thegirl must perforce go with her. Through Ruth's mind was swirling amultitude of suspicious thoughts.