"I go to Fontanes. There's a dressing station on the road. It appears that your young man's heart hasn't quite stopped yet——"
The girl rose excitedly to her feet, but the gendarme gently forced her back into her seat and laid the reins in her hands. To the airman he growled:[pg 213]
"I did not tell this poor child to hope; I merely informed her that her friend yonder is still breathing. But he's as full of holes as a pepper pot!" He frowned at Maryette: "Allons! My comrade here goes to Sainte Lesse. Drive him there now, in God's name, before the Uhlans come clattering on your heels!"
He turned, strode away to the ambulance once more, climbed in, and placed one big arm around the sick driver's shoulder, drawing the man's head down against his breast.
"Bonne chance!" he called back to the airman, who had now seated himself beside Maryette. "Explain to our little bell-mistress that we're taking her friend to a place where they fool Death every day—where to cheat the grave is a flourishing business! Good-bye! Courage! En route, brave Sister of the World!"
The Sister of Charity turned and smiled at Maryette, made her a friendly gesture, threw in the clutch, and, twisting the steering wheel with both sun-browned hands, guided the ma[pg 214]chine out onto the road and sped away swiftly after the cloud of receding dust.
"Drive on, mademoiselle," said the airman quietly.
In his accent there was something poignantly familiar to Maryette, and she turned with a start and looked at him out of her dark blue, tear-marred eyes.
"Are you also American?" she asked.
"Gunner observer, American air squadron, mademoiselle."