"Does it sound like something that a young woman would claim were it untrue?" she asked, and I was forced to admit that it did not. "I will tell you something further," she continued, "I dare not return to New York at the present time or I should be put in jail. For the last time I was there I was jailed for some of my writings. I obtained my freedom on bail of three thousand dollars, and, hearing that I was to be railroaded to prison, I jumped it."
"Why do you tell a stranger like myself this story?" I asked. "How do you know that I am not going to report you to the police?"
"I know you are not going to report me to the police," she answered coolly, "because if you did I would shoot you."
"Do you carry much of your artillery on your person?" I asked, laughing. And seeing that I was taking it all as a joke, she joined in the laugh.
"It's your turn, madam," said the porter to her, and she passed out of the line into the office of the consul, giving me a charming smile and curtsy as she left.
Whether her story was the result of mischief, insanity, or conviction, I really have no idea; but I do know that I have in my life passed many more tedious and less interesting hours than the one I passed while awaiting my turn at the office of the British Consul that day.
CHAPTER XXII
IN A CHÂTEAU HOSPITAL
Early in the conflict, after the Germans had been pushed back from their rush on Paris, the French were in a bad way for many of the necessities of a country at war. Among the necessities that France lacked was sufficient hospital accommodation for the sick and wounded of her armies, and for the first year of the war this shortage was partially supplied by voluntary ambulances—the word ambulance in French being employed for a field hospital. Many rich Americans gave valuable service at this time to their sister republic, the American ambulances at Neuilly and Juilly being among the most noted of the war hospitals.
It was not at all difficult to get staffs for these hospitals, for thousands of young Americans with red blood in their veins and the love of romance in their hearts were only awaiting the opportunity to do something useful anywhere between Paris and the firing line. Between the people of the United States and the French there has always been a deep sympathy, possibly engendered up to half a century ago by their common antipathy to England, a sentiment forever removed by mutual sufferings and common interests and ideals in this war. A witty writer one time said that "good Americans, when they die, go to —— Paris"; jokingly showing the love which the people of the southern half of this continent have for the French. But, no matter what the reasons, the greatest republic in the world was early in responding to the call, and so placed her sister republic, France, under deep obligations for assistance of surgeons, nurses, and hospitals long before Mr. Wilson led the United States to join with the other civilized peoples in their fight against barbarism.