The great main road was now dark with transport and infantry under the moonlight, and across the fields squadron of cavalry could be seen going at the trot. Every gun-flash near and far, every movement, had its message for General Rousseau. He talked of '70, ran on in reminiscence as he stared out into the night; and finally was silent, as if a great weight had been laid on his heart. Phil understood that the signs which the old soldier read were not good.
"They are the lucky ones, our officers and men who are fighting," he said. "It's so simple—fighting! You forget everything. You do your all for France. I was twice wounded, Monsieur. All night I crawled and hid in a barn till I got stronger; and then I worked my way through the German lines and fought till I was too weak to stand in the siege. Yes, that was good—so simple!"
Was it to be '70 over again? His army, his France to submit to the old fate? A second and final tragedy coming?
"Yes, yes—and," said the General, a new note in his voice, as if an inspiration had come to him, "and I may still serve not only France, but you in America—all democracy, all civilisation. Monsieur, you will tell Madame Ribot if she does not see me again that I had to look after an important affair. I am going to locate some commander of ours who will pass me onto the staff. Yes, tell Madame that I kiss her hand."
His old legs seemed to have found new life as he parted from Phil.
CHAPTER XIV
"IF I WISH IT!"
When the two sisters went upstairs, Henriette turned to go to her room, then whirled and followed Helen.
"Well, did you tell him?" she demanded, with a kind of ferocity.