There could be no doubt of Captain Castaigne’s sincerity at this moment. Nona and Barbara, who were listening with intense interest to his plea, were deeply moved by the tribute he thus paid the Red Cross work. But if Eugenia felt this she did not reveal it.
“I prefer not to discuss the accident,” she returned, rising from her chair and preparing to leave. “Certainly I realize that you would not have desired to injure me personally had you known I was a Red Cross nurse. But I cannot see that you are justified in sending that great beast of a dog to attack wayfarers, simply because you do not chance to know who they are.”
Barbara and Nona had also gotten up intending to withdraw with their friend. Actually at this moment Barbara had the temerity to giggle, although no one but Nona was aware of it. It was so absurd to hear Eugenia lecturing a French officer with regard to his duties and privileges. It was even funnier to see the spirit in which he accepted his snubbing!
“But, Mademoiselle,” he continued, shrugging his slender shoulders, decorated with the gold braid of his rank, “surely you must appreciate that in these war times we have many dangerous visitors to our entrenchments. One cannot permit a wanderer to remain at large who refuses to give an account of himself? Besides, my dog would have injured no one. He had his orders merely to hold the prisoner until I could reach him.”
Captain Castaigne laid his boyish hand on the head of the great dog, who at once rose up clumsily and stood beside him. “Some day, Mademoiselle, I shall pray that my dog and I may do you a service to atone for our mistake. To many a wounded soldier Le Duc has brought aid on the battlefield. In any case the offense was mine, while his only that of obedience to a stupid master. Say at least that you forgive my dog?”
The young officer spoke so winningly that even Eugenia was compelled to relent slightly. However, she still retained an uncomfortable vision of herself, face downward upon the ground with this young Captain Castaigne holding the light above her and gazing down on her prostrate form.
Nevertheless, she accepted the large paw that Duke stretched forth to her. As the eyes of Eugenia and the dog met, the ghost of an understanding passed between them.
The next instant, after saying farewell to their hostess, she departed, the other three Red Cross girls following her.
“What a very objectionable young woman,” the Countess Amélie remarked to her son in French, when speaking of their guests a short time afterwards. The young officer did not inquire which one of the four girls she meant.