Robert Chambers - The Maids of Paradise стр 5.

II

THE GOVERNMENT INTERFERES

There is a short cut across that meadow, said the young girl, raising a rounded, sun-tinted arm, bare to the shoulder.

You are very kind, said I, looking at her steadily.

And, after that, you will come to a thicket of white birches.

Thank you, mademoiselle.

And after that, she said, idly following with her blue eyes the contour of her own lovely arm, you must turn to the left, and there you will cross a hill. You can see it from where we stand

She glanced at me over her outstretched arm. You are not listening, she said.

I shifted a troubled gaze to the meadow which stretched out all glittering with moist grasses and tufts of rain-drenched wild flowers.

The girls arm slowly fell to her side, she looked up at me again, I felt her eyes on me for a moment, then she turned her head toward the meadow.

A deadened report shook the summer air the sound of a cannon fired very far away, perhaps on the citadel of Strasbourg. It was so distant, so indistinct, that here in this peaceful country it lingered only as a vibration; the humming of the clover bees was louder.

Without turning my head I said: It is difficult to believe that there is war anywhere in the world is it not, mademoiselle?

Not if one knows the world, she said, indifferently.

Do you know it, my child?

Sufficiently, she said.

She had opened again the book which she had been reading when I first noticed her. From my saddle I saw that it was Molière. I examined her, in detail, from the tips of her small wooden shoes to the scarlet velvet-banded skirt, then slowly upward, noting the laced bodice of velvet, the bright hair under the butterfly coiffe of Alsace, the delicate outline of nose and brow and throat. The ensemble was theatrical.

Why do you tend turkeys? I asked.

Because it pleases me, she replied, raising her eyebrows in faint displeasure.

For that same reason you read Monsieur Molière? I suggested.

Doubtless, monsieur.

Who are you?

Is a passport required in France? she replied, languidly.

Are you what you pretend to be, an Alsatian turkey tender?

Parbleu! There are my turkeys, monsieur.

Of course, and there is your peasant dress and there are your wooden shoes, and there also, mademoiselle, are your soft hands and your accented speech and your plays of Molière.

You are very wise for a hussar, she said.

Perhaps, said I, but I have asked you a question which remains parried.

She balanced the hazel rod across her shoulders with a faintly malicious smile.

One might almost believe that you are not a hussar, but an officer of the Imperial Police, she said.

If you think that, said I, you should answer my question the sooner unless you come from La Trappe. Do you?

Sometimes.

Oh! And what do you do at the Château de la Trappe?

I tend poultry sometimes, she replied.

And at other times?

I do other things, monsieur.

What things?

What things? Mon Dieu, I read a little, as you perceive, monsieur.

Who are you? I demanded.

Oh, a mere nobody in such learned company, she said, shaking her head with a mock humility that annoyed me intensely.

Very well, said I, conscious every moment of her pleasure in my discomfiture; under the circumstances I am going to ask you to accept my escort to La Trappe; for I think you are Mademoiselle Elven, recently of the Odéon theatre.

At this her eyes widened and the smile on her face became less genuine. Indeed, I shall not go with you, she said.

Im afraid Ill have to insist, said I.

She still balanced her hazel rod across her shoulders, a smile curving her mouth.

Monsieur, she said, do you ride through the world pressing every peasant girl you meet with such ardent entreaties? Truly, your fashion of wooing is not slow, but everybody knows that hussars are headlong gentlemen Nothing is sacred from a hussar, she hummed, deliberately, in a parody which made me writhe in my saddle.

Mademoiselle, said I, taking off my forage-cap, your ridicule is not the most disagreeable incident that I expect to meet with to-day. I am attempting to do my duty, and I must ask you to do yours.

By taking a walk with you, beau monsieur?

Im afraid so.

And if I refuse?

Then, said I, amiably, I shall be obliged to set you on my horse. And I dismounted and went toward her.

Set me on on that horse? she repeated, with a disturbed smile.

Will you come on foot, then?

No, I will not! she said, with a click of her teeth.

I looked at my watch it lacked five minutes to one.

In five minutes we are going to start, said I, cheerfully, and stood waiting, twisting the gilt hilt-tassels of my sabre with nervous fingers.

After a silence she said, very seriously, Monsieur, would you dare use violence toward me?

Oh, I shall not be very violent, I replied, laughing. I held the opened watch in my hand so that she could see the dial if she chose.

It is one oclock, I said, closing the hunting-case with a snap.

She looked me steadily in the eyes.

Will you come with me to La Trappe?

She did not stir.

I stepped toward her; she gave me a breathless, defiant stare; then in an instant I caught her up and swung her high into my saddle, before either she or I knew exactly what had happened.

Fury flashed up in her eyes and was gone, leaving them almost blank blue. As for me, amazed at what I had done, I stood at her stirrup, breathing very fast, with jaws set and chin squared.

She was clever enough not to try to dismount, woman enough not to make an awkward struggle or do anything ungraceful. In her face I read an immense astonishment; fascination seemed to rivet her eyes on me, following my every movement as I shortened one stirrup for her, tightened the girths, and laid the bridle in her half-opened hand.

Then, in silence, I led the horse forward through the open gate out into the wet meadow.

Wading knee-deep through soaking foliage, I piloted my horse with its mute burden across the fields; and, after a few minutes a violent desire to laugh seized me and persisted, but I bit my lip and called up a few remaining sentiments of decency.

As for my turkey-girl, she sat stiffly in the saddle, with a firmness and determination that proved her to be a stranger to horses. I scarcely dared look at her, so fearful was I of laughing.

As we emerged from the meadow I heard the cannon sounding again at a great distance, and this perhaps sobered me, for presently all desire of laughter left me, and I turned into the road which led through the birch thicket, anxious to accomplish my mission and have done with it as soon as might be.

Are we near La Trappe? I asked, respectfully.

Had she pouted, or sulked, or burst into reproaches, I should have cared little in fact, an outburst might have relieved me.

But she answered me so sweetly, and, too, with such composure, that my heart smote me for what I had done to her and what I was still to do.

Would you rather walk? I asked, looking up at her.

No, thank you, she said, serenely.

So we went on. The spectacle of a cavalryman in full uniform leading a cavalry horse on which was seated an Alsatian girl in bright peasant costume appeared to astonish the few people we passed. One of these foot-farers, a priest who was travelling in our direction, raised his pallid visage to meet my eyes. Then he stole a glance at the girl in the saddle, and I saw a tint of faded color settle under his transparent skin.