The Wages of Virtue

by Percival Christopher Wren

"Seenyoreena Carmelita is the whitest little woman as ever lived," growled the American. "She's a blowed-in-the-glass heart-o'-gold. Yew can put yure shirt on Carmelita.... Yew know what I mean--yure bottom dollar.... Ef it wasn't fer that filthy Eye-talian sarpint, she'd jump at the chance of giving this Roosian gal her last crust.... I don't care John whether you shoot him up or nit. I'm gwine ter slug him till Hell pops. Let him fight his dirtiest an' damnedest--I'll see him and raise him every time, the double-dealin' gorilla...."

"I am ready, Monsieur," said the girl Olga to John Bull. "But I do not want you, Monsieur, nor these other gentlemen, to make trouble for yourselves on my account.... I have brought this on myself, and there is no reason why you..."

"Oh, shucks! Come on, little gal," broke in the Bucking Bronco. "We'll see yew through. We ain't Loojeys...."

"Of course, we will. We shall be only too delighted," agreed Rupert. "Don't you worry."

"Pull yourself together and swagger all you can," advised John Bull. "It might ruin everything if the Sergeant of the Guard took it into his head to turn you back. I wonder if we had better go through in a gang, or let you go first? If we are all together there is less likelihood of excessive scrutiny of any one of us, but on the other hand it may be remembered that you were last seen with us three, and that might hamper our future usefulness.... Just as well Feodor isn't here.... Tell you what, you and I will go out together, and I'll use my wits to divert attention from you if we are stopped. The others can come a few minutes later, or as soon as someone else has passed."

"That's it," agreed Rupert; "come on."

With beating hearts, the old soldier and the young girl approached the little side door by the huge barrack-gates. Close by it stood the Sergeant of the Guard. Their anxiety increased as they realised that it was none other than Sergeant Legros, one of the most officious, domineering and brutal of the Legion's N.C.O.'s. Luck was against them. He would take a positive delight in standing by that door the whole evening and in turning back every single man whose appearance gave him the slightest opportunity for fault-finding, as well as a good many whose appearance did not.

As they drew near and saluted smartly, the little piggish eyes of Sergeant Legros took in every detail of their uniform. The girl felt the blood draining from her cheeks. What if they had made a mistake? What if red trousers and blue tunic should be wrong, and the ordre du jour should be white trousers and blue tunic or capote? What if she had a button undone or her bayonet on the wrong side? What if Sergeant Legros should see, or imagine a speck upon her tunic? ... Had she been under his evil gaze for hours? Was the side of the Guard House miles in length? ... Thank God, they were through the gate and free. Free for the moment, and if the good God were merciful she was free for ever from the horrors and fears of that terrible place. Could anything worse befall her? Yes, there were worse places for a girl than a barrack-room of the French Foreign Legion. There was a Russian prison--there was the dark prison-van and warder--there was the journey to Siberia--there was Siberia itself. Yes, there were worse places than that she had just left--until her secret was discovered. A thousand times worse. And she thought of her friend, that poor girl who had been less fortunate than she. Poor, poor Marie! Would she herself be sent back to Russia to share Marie's fate, if these brave Englishmen and Carmelita failed to save her? What would become of Feodor? ... Did this noble Englishman, with the gentle face, love this girl Carmelita? ... Might not Carmelita's house be a very trap if the loathsome Italian brute owned its owner?...

"Let's stroll slowly now, my dear," said John Bull, "and let the others overtake us. The more the merrier, if we should run into Rivoli and his gang, or if he is already at Carmelita's. I don't think he will be. I fancy he puts in the first part of his evening with Madame la Cantinière, and goes down to Carmelita's later for his dinner.... If he should be there I don't quite see what line he can take in front of Carmelita. He could hardly molest you in front of the woman whom he pretends he is going to marry, and I don't see on what grounds he could raise any objection to her befriending you.... It's a deuced awkward position--for the fact that I intend to kill Rivoli, if I can, hardly gives me a claim on Carmelita. She loves the very ground the brute treads on, you know, and it would take me, or anybody else, a precious long time to persuade her that the man who rid the world of Luigi Rivoli would be her very best friend.... He's the most noxious and poisonous reptile I have ever come across, and I believe she is one of the best of good little women.... It is a hole we're in. We've got to see Carmelita swindled and then jilted and broken-hearted; or we've got to bring the blackest grief upon her by saving her from Rivoli."

"Do you love her too, Monsieur?" asked Olga.