So often Barbara thought of this during the long hours of the morning.
Sometimes she was whirling about with the children in a ring, singing at the top of her voice to keep their attention engaged. Yet at the same moment her thoughts were all concentrated upon what was going on in the house with Eugenia. Whom had she in hiding all these weeks, risking her own liberty for his or her safety? And how was it possible that any human being could escape from Belgium whom the Germans wished to detain?
Yet not a carriage nor a human being approached the house from the front. Of this Barbara was absolutely certain. Always when it was possible she had kept a watchful lookout. Besides, there was Jan who had appointed himself sentinel.
The boy could not consciously have been expecting disaster. Not a human being had given him a hint of what was to take place. Yet he simply refused to play when the other children invited him.
When Barbara explained that Eugenia insisted he remain out of the house, he made no effort toward disobedience. He merely took up a position as far away as possible, but one where he could still see the house and at the same time keep a lookout ahead. For his quiet gray eyes would study the landscape beyond him sometimes for five minutes, then he would turn his head and gaze toward the house. Satisfied that he could discover nothing wrong there, he would again begin his former scrutiny.
He was an interesting figure; Barbara studied him whenever she had a chance. Here was a child whom the war had not so far injured physically. Although ill some weeks before he had since recovered. Yet he would bear the scars that the war had made upon his spirit so long as he should live. Bibo's lameness was as nothing to this boy's hurt. There was a look of abnormal gravity in his eyes, of an understanding of sorrows that a child of ten should know nothing of. He was fearful and frightened and yet there was something indomitable in the child's watching.
He recalled the gallant army of children crusaders who, led by Stephen of France, went forth to wrest Jerusalem from the infidels. So their little sentinels must have waited wide-eyed and courageous, yet sick with dread, for the ravenous hosts to overpower them.
Another possibility worried Barbara and the children all morning. There was a prospect that rain might come and so spoil their luncheon party. Suppose they should be compelled to scamper for shelter just at the critical moment in Eugenia's plans?
The rain did not come. It must have been just a little after twelve o'clock when Eugenia finally walked down the front steps into the yard. She did not look toward Barbara, but her appearance was enough. Whatever she had wished to accomplish was now over.