CHAPTER IV

  UNDER FIRE

  The day was fading into evening as the car went over the first ridgeand dropped out of sight of Clair and the sprawling hospital in whichRuth Fielding had worked so many weeks.

  She felt that she had grown old--and grown old rapidly--since coming toher present work in France. She was the only American in thathospital, for the United States Expeditionary Forces had only of latetaken over this sector of the battle line and no changes had been madein the unity of the workers at Clair.

  They all loved Ruth there, from the matron and the surgeon-in-chiefdown to the last orderly and porter. Although her work was supposed tobe entirely in the supply department, she gave much of her time to thepatients themselves.

  Those who could not write, or could not read, were aided by theAmerican girl. If there was extra work in the wards (and that happenedwhenever the opposing forces on the front became active) Ruth wascalled on to help the nurses.

  Thus far no American wounded had been brought into the ClairHospital--a fact easily understood, as the entire force save Ruth wasFrench. It would not be long, however, before the American Red Crosswould take over that hospital and the French wounded would be sent tothe base hospital at Lyse, where Ruth had first worked on coming toFrance.

  Up to this very moment--and not an unexciting moment it was--RuthFielding had never been so far away from Clair in this direction. Inthe distance, as they mounted another ridge, she saw the flaring lightswhich she had long since learned marked the battle front. The gunsstill muttered.

  Now and again they passed cavities where the great shells had burst.But most of these were ancient marmite holes and the grass was againgrowing in them, or water stood slimy and knee-deep, and, on the edgesof these pools, frogs croaked their evensong.

  There were not many farmhouses in this direction. Indeed, this part ofFrance was "old-fashioned" in that the agricultural people lived inlittle villages for the most part and went daily to their fields towork, gathering at night for self-protection as they had done sincefeudal times.

  Now and again the ambulance passed within sight of a ruined chateau.The Germans had left none intact when they had advanced first into thispart of the country. They rolled through two tiny villages whichremained merely battered heaps of ruins.

  Orchards were razed; even the shade trees beside the pleasant roads hadbeen scored with the ax and now stood gaunt and dead. Some weresplintered freshly by German shells. As the light faded and the roadgrew dim, Ruth Fielding saw many ugly objects which marked the"frightfulness" of the usurpers. It all had a depressing effect on thegirl's spirits.

  "Are you hungry, Miss Ruth?" Charlie Bragg asked her at last.

  "I expect I shall be, Charlie," she replied. "Our tea at the chateauwas almost a fantom tea."

  "Gosh! isn't it so?" he said slangily. "What these French folks liveon would starve me to death. Mighty glad to have regular Yankeerations. But," he added, "we'll be too late to get chow when we cometo the hospital, I am afraid. We'll try Mother Gervaise."

  "Who is Mother Gervaise?" asked Ruth, glad to have some topic ofconversation with the ambulance driver.

  "She's an old woman who used to be cook at one of these chateaux here,they say. She'll feed us well for four francs each."

  "Four francs!"

  "Sure. Price has gone up," said Charlie dryly. "These French folk arebound to think that every American is a millionaire. And I don't knowbut it is worth it," and he grinned. "Think of being looked on as aJohn D. Rockefeller everywhere you go! I'd never rise to such a heightin the States."

  "No, I presume not," Ruth admitted with a laugh. "But how is it thatthis Mother Gervaise, as you call her, is not afraid to stay here?"

  "She stays to watch the gold grow in her stocking," Charlie replied,shrugging his shoulders almost as significantly as a Frenchman.

  "Oh! Is she that much of a miser?"

  "You've said it. She stayed when the Germans first came and fed them.When they retreated she stayed and met the advancing British (theFrench did not come first) with hot soup, and changed her price frompfennigs to shillings. Get her to tell you about it. It is worthlistening to--her experience."

  Charlie Bragg stopped the car suddenly and got out. Ruth looked aheadwith curiosity. The road seemed rather smooth and quite unoccupied.There was a group of trees, tortured by gunfire, which hid a turn inthe track and what lay beyond. Charlie was tinkering with the engineof the machine.

  "What is the matter?" Ruth ventured to ask.

  "Nothing--yet," he returned. "But we've got to get around that nextturn in a hurry."

  "Why?"

  "It's a wicked corner," said Charlie. "I might as well tell you--thenyou won't squeal if anything happens."

  "Oh! Do you think I am a squealer?" she demanded rather tartly.

  "I don't know," and he grinned again. He was an imp of mischief, thisCharlie Bragg, and she did not know how to take him.

  "You're not 'spoofing me,' as our British brothers put it?"

  "It's an honest-to-goodness bad corner--especially at night," Charliereturned quite seriously now. "Boches know we fellows have to useit----"

  "You mean the ambulances?"

  "Yep. They spot us. We run without lights, you know; but every oncein a while they drop a shell there. They have the range perfectly.They caught one of my bunkies there only a week ago."

  "Oh, Charlie! An American?"

  "No. Scotch. Only Scotty in this section, and a mighty nice fellow.Well, he'll never drive that boat again."

  "Oh!" gasped Ruth. "Was he killed?"

  "Shucks! No!" scoffed Charlie. "But his ambulance was smashed tobits. Luckily he hadn't any load with him at the time. But it wouldhave been all one to the Boches."

  Bragg got in beside the girl again, tried out his levers, and suddenlyshot the car ahead.

  "Hang on!" cried Charlie Bragg under his breath.

  The ambulance shot down to the corner. It was all black shadow there,and, as Charlie intimated, he dared use no lights. If there was anobstruction they would crash into it!

  The dusk had fallen suddenly. The sky was overcast, so not a starflecked the firmament. Through the gloom the ambulance raced, theyoung fellow stooping low over the steering wheel, trying to peer ahead.

  How many hundreds of times had he made similar runs? Ruth had neverbefore appreciated just what it meant to be driving an ambulancethrough these roads so near the battle front.

  For five minutes a heavy gun had not spoken. Suddenly the horizonahead lit up with a broad white flare. There came the resonant reportof a huge gun--so distant that Ruth knew it could be nothing but aGerman Bertha.

  Almost instantly the whine of a shell was audible--coming nearer andnearer! Ruth Fielding, cowering on the seat of the automobile, felt asthough the awful missile must be aimed directly at her!

  The car shot around the curve where the broken trees stood. With ayell like that of a lost soul--a demon from the Pit--the shell wentover their heads and exploded in the grove.

  The ambulance was spattered with a hail that might have been shrapnel,or stones and gravel--Ruth did not know. The hood sheltered her. Shewas on the far side of the seat, anyway.

  And then, with a shout of warning, Charlie shut down and tried to stopthe car within its own length. Ruth saw a hole yawning before them--apit in the very middle of the road.

  "They've dropped one here since I came along!" yelled the young man,just as the ambulance pitched, nose first, into the cavity.

  They were stalled. Suppose the Boches sent another shell hurtling tothis spot? They were likely to be wiped out in a breath.

 
Alice B. Emerson's Novels
»Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill; Or, Jasper Parloe's Secretby Alice B. Emerson
»Betty Gordon at Boarding School; Or, The Treasure of Indian Chasmby Alice B. Emerson
»Betty Gordon at Bramble Farm; Or, The Mystery of a Nobodyby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding at Snow Camp; Or, Lost in the Backwoodsby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding at the War Front; or, The Hunt for the Lost Soldierby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding on Cliff Island; Or, The Old Hunter's Treasure Boxby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding in Moving Pictures; Or, Helping the Dormitory Fundby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding in the Great Northwest; Or, The Indian Girl Star of the Moviesby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding at Briarwood Hall; or, Solving the Campus Mysteryby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding and the Gypsies; Or, The Missing Pearl Necklaceby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding At College; or, The Missing Examination Papersby Alice B. Emerson
»Betty Gordon at Mountain Camp; Or, The Mystery of Ida Bellethorneby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding at Silver Ranch; Or, Schoolgirls Among the Cowboysby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding In the Saddle; Or, College Girls in the Land of Goldby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding At Sunrise Farm; Or, What Became of the Raby Orphansby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding on the St. Lawrence; Or, The Queer Old Man of the Thousand Islandsby Alice B. Emerson
»Ruth Fielding Down East; Or, The Hermit of Beach Plum Pointby Alice B. Emerson
»Betty Gordon in Washington; Or, Strange Adventures in a Great Cityby Alice B. Emerson