There was a raised daïs or platform of earth, approached from two sides by steps of stone. There were two stone benches above, and upon one of them, leaning forward toward a small oak tree in the center of the guarded space, sat the dark figure which had carried the lantern. The eyes of the Légionnaire, now grown accustomed to the glow of the light, made sure that the figure had not moved, nor was aware of his silent and furtive approach. Two plans of action suggested themselves, one to move behind the foliage to the right and intercept the monk with the lantern should he attempt to flee toward the lights of the house nearby, the other to risk all in a frank statement, a plea for charity and asylum.
But as the figure remained as before, staring past the lantern at the solitary oak tree as though lost in contemplation of its branches, the Légionnaire rose, silently crossed the lawn, and reached the stone steps where the crackle of a twig beneath his foot with a sudden and startling clearness revealed his presence. He was aware of the dark figure above him springing to its feet and turning with a swift graceful motion which swept the dark cowl from its curly head and betrayed the identity of its owner--a girl--quite lovely in her fear of this tattered brown ghost that had come upon her vigils.
In an awed whisper, she spoke a few words in a language he did not understand and then was silent, watching him, frightened.
"Bitte, Fräulein," he began softly.
The sound of his voice reassured her. She turned toward him and seemed to search his figure more intently. And then in French peremptorily, "What do you want? Who are you?" she said.
At the sound of the French tongue spoken rapidly and without a trace of accent, the brown ghost smiled eagerly. "Ah, Mademoiselle is French. Then I am sure of her charity and forgiveness."
He had put one foot upon the lowest step of the daïs when she took a pace toward him and extended her cloaked arms as though barring the way, repeating her former questions.
"What are you doing here? And what do you want?" "I am hungry, Mademoiselle, also thirsty, for I have come far."
Her glance swept his figure and then, as though identifying him, returned with more assurance to his face.
"You are a soldier, a Frenchman?"