IX—TALE OF THE LOVERS' TREACHERY
When the Germans first poured over France, trenches were dug at frequent intervals behind Paris and right down towards the great seaport of Havre. Later on these earthworks were strengthened and completed by the labour section of the Army Service Corps. A member of the Corps, Private Ronald Barrow, tells the following experience in connection with the work round Etretat. This village lies in a rock-bound valley, at the end of which is an old Gothic church named St. Vallery.
The ruins of this church were at first ordered to be destroyed in order to give a clear sweep for the guns, but the colonel of Engineers in charge decided not to proceed with this demolition. Hard by the ruins was a tiny auberge, and it was here that Private Barrow encountered Chrysale Duigin.
Barrow had been a school-teacher; and his knowledge of French gave him the opportunity of making the young woman's acquaintance. Witty, shrewd, spiteful, she was nevertheless a most interesting personage, for she was beautiful, possessed means, and was full of little touches of wisdom.
Chrysale had two lovers; one a fisherman, a rough, strong fellow, the other a puny little conscript, who, in happier days, collected taxes. Hervé, the conscript, had been invalided home from Verdun, having lost his right arm. Galen, the fisherman, was exempt from military service. Between the two there was naturally a great rivalry. Hervé said much, and did nothing; Galen said nothing, and brooded.
Thus matters stood, until one evening Galen embarked on an armed trawler that had been fitted out at the port to seek for mines floating down the Channel towards Havre. He had become a matelot in the French navy. One morning at dawn the vessel was struck by a mine outside the very roads of Etretat. Putting out, the lifeboat saved only one man—Galen, the fisherman. In rescuing him one man was lost overboard. That man was Hervé, Chrysale's lover, and Galen's rival in her affections. Nothing more was seen of him. A heavy sea was running, and he must have been carried away by the tide.
When Galen was brought ashore he was still unconscious. On his head was a deep wound, where he had been struck by a boat-hook handled by one of the rescuers. Taken to his house, Galen lay at death's door for some days, but his great physical strength pulled him through. They saved his life, but not his reason; his brain had become hopelessly deranged.
A fortnight later Barrow, who knew the principal actors in the pitiful tale, saw one of the crew of the lifeboat. In the meantime, Barrow had been employed on the docks at Havre.
"It's a sad enough story," said the fisherman, in response to Barrow's questioning. "It's a pity we ever took young Hervé aboard with us."