“Quite so, Mademoiselle,” he rejoined again with gravity. “I would ask you to do nothing that will make you feel an atom of disgrace. No, no! A mere call—and you shall return here in an hour.”
Ruth knew it was a command as well as a request. She hurried for her wrap, for the evening was damp. But she did not remove her costume of the Red Cross.
As she came down to the waiting car she saw that she was peered at by several of the nurses. Some wind of what was going on evidently had got about the hospital.
Ruth ran down the steps and jumped into the car, the tonneau door of which was held open by the man with whom she had talked in the matron’s office. Instantly the engine began to purr and the car slipped away from the steps.
Lafrane bowed to Ruth again, and said, with a gesture, as though introducing her:
“My comrades, Mademoiselle Fielding. Be of good courage. Like myself, Mademoiselle, they admire the courage of les Americaines.”
Ruth could say nothing to that. She felt half stifled with seething emotions. Her heart beat rapidly. What was now going to happen to her? She had endured many strange experiences since coming to France; but she had to admit that she was not prepared for this occurrence.
The car shot through the tortuous roads swiftly. Suddenly she noted that they were taking the hilly road to the Dupay farm—the longer way. They mounted the hill toward the chateau gate.
A light flashed ahead in the roadway. The car was pulled down to a stop before the entrance to the Chateau Marchand. Another soldierly looking man—this one in uniform—held the lantern and pointed to the gateway of the estate. To Ruth’s surprise the wide gates were open.
The guard said something swiftly that the girl did not catch. The chauffeur manipulated the clutch and again the car leaped ahead. It turned directly into the private drive leading up to the chateau.