However, nothing was said at breakfast about her proceedings, but later Barbara followed Eugenia about their little house, regarding her suspiciously.
Desultory firing was still going on; occasionally one could hear the cracking of a score of rifles or the shriek of a bursting shell. But this had become a common experience in the past nine months to the American Red Cross girls and would hardly explain Eugenia’s unusually serious view of the situation.
Finally Barbara managed to corner the older girl in the kitchen, where she laid her hand quietly on her arm.
“Tell me, Eugenia, please, have you any special reason for believing that the fighting is to be more serious in this neighborhood than any we have yet seen? Have the soldiers or officers told you to expect unusual trouble? Tell me the truth. I would rather know, and I think I can promise not to be such a coward as I was when our war nursing started.”
For a moment Eugenia hesitated. Her face was serious but not severe this morning and the two expressions were very unlike.
“I am going to tell you exactly the truth, Barbara, when I say that no one has given me information of any kind. I have only heard, just as you have, that after months of fighting in this locality the Germans evacuated their trenches and moved back of the line of their own accord. But the truth is, I have been feeling horribly uneasy ever since I became aware of the impression this had made on the French army near here. I have always feared it was a piece of clever strategy on the part of the Germans to gain time and perhaps to bring up more guns. And all last night, while the cannonading was going on, after weeks of comparative quiet, I became more and more convinced of my idea. Of course, it may be absurd, but just the same I have the feeling that we ought to be prepared for perhaps the most strenuous times of our lives.”
Suddenly Eugenia placed her hands on either side Barbara’s cheeks, which had grown round and rosy as a child’s again, with the weeks of outdoor life and the easier work.
“I want you to promise me something, Barbara; promise for yourself and if you can to use your influence with the other girls. If by chance the enemy should conquer this part of France and our field hospital be forced to move further back, you will go back with them. But if anything should happen to make this impossible, go to the Countess Amélie and remain with her. She is a stranger, but she is an older woman and I’d feel ever so much happier to have you under her protection.”
Trying her best to show no signs of uneasiness at Eugenia’s speech, nevertheless Barbara Meade’s face unconsciously whitened and her blue eyes grew dark.
“That is a rather impossible promise,” she returned, smiling, although her voice was not quite steady. “Of course, I am not convinced that you are right in your fears in the first place, but if you should be, why are you asking me to influence the other girls to leave this neighborhood? You have a great deal more influence that I have. Do you mean that you don’t intend to go with us?”