The Girl from Alsace Part 19

He could hear her moving softly about the room; he could hear the rustle of what he took to be the bed-clothes; then the bed creaked as she sat down upon it. What was she doing? Why should she work in the dark, alone, without asking him to help? Was it because he could not help--was of so little use----

"You may light the candle now, my friend," she said, in a low voice.

Stewart had a match ready--had had it ready for long minutes!--and in a trice the wick was alight and the flame shot up clear and steady.

After one glance, he sprang in amazement to his feet, for there before him stood a youth--the handsomest he had ever seen--Peter Pan come to earth again!--his hand at the visor of his traveling-cap in mock salute.

"Well!" said Stewart, after a moment of amazed and delighted silence. "I believe you are a witch! Let me look at you!" and he caught up the candle and held it above his head.

The face upturned to his flamed crimson at the wonder and admiration in his eyes, but the dimple was sparkling at the corner of her mouth as she turned obediently before him and stepped slowly across the room. There is at the heart of every woman, however virginal and innocent, a subtle delight in knowing that men find her beautiful, and there could be no question of what Stewart thought at this moment.

At last she came to a stop facing him.

"Well?" she asked. "Will I do?"

"Will you do?" Stewart echoed, and Meredith's phrase recurred to him--"an imp in porcelain"--how perfectly it described her! "You are entirely, absolutely, impeccably--oh, I haven't adjectives enough! Only I wish I had a hundred candles instead of one!"

"But the clothes," she said, and looked doubtfully down at them. "Do I look like a boy?"

"Not in the least!" he answered, promptly.

Her face fell.

"But then----"

"Perhaps it is just because I know you're not one," he rea.s.sured her.

"Let me see if I can improve matters. The trousers are too large, especially about the waist. They seem in danger of--hum!" and indeed she was clutching them desperately with one hand. "We will make another hole in that belt about three inches back," and he got out his knife and suited the action to the word. "There--that's better--you can let go of them now! And we'll turn up the legs about four inches--no, we'd better cut them off." He set the candle on the floor, picked up the scissors, and carefully trimmed each leg. "But those feet are ridiculous," he added, severely. "No real boy ever had feet like that!"

She stared down at them ruefully.

"They will seem larger when I get them full of mud," she pointed out. "I thought of putting on a pair of your shoes, but gave it up, for I am afraid I could not travel very far in them. Fortunately these are very strong!"

He sniffed skeptically, but had to agree with her that his shoes were impossible.

"There is one thing more," and she lifted her cap and let her tucked-up hair fall about her shoulders. "This must be cut off."

"Oh, no," protested Stewart, drawing back in horror. "That would be desecration--why, it's the most beautiful hair in the world!"

"Nonsense! In any case, it will grow again."

"Why not just tie it up under your cap?"

But she shook her head.

"No--it must come off. I might lose the cap--you see it is too large--and my hair would betray us. Cut it off, my friend--be quick."

She was right, of course, and Stewart, with a heavy heart, snipped away the long tresses. Then he trimmed the hair as well as he was able--which was very badly indeed. Finally he parted it rakishly on one side--and only by a supreme effort restrained himself from taking her in his arms and kissing her.

"Really," he said, "you're so ridiculously lovely that I'm in great danger of violating our treaty. I warn you it is extremely dangerous to look at me like that!"

She lowered her eyes instantly, but she could not restrain the dimple.

Luckily, in the shadow, Stewart did not see it.

"We must make my clothing into a bundle," she said, sedately. "I may need it again. Besides, these people must not suspect that I have gone away disguised like this. That will give us a great advantage. Yes, gather up the hair and we will take it too--it would betray us. Put the cigars in your pocket. I will take the pipe and tobacco."

"Do you expect to smoke? I warn you that that pipe is a seasoned one!"

"I may risk a puff or two. I have been told there is no pa.s.sport like a pipe of tobacco. No--do not shut the bags. Leave them open as though we had fled hurriedly. And," she added, crimsoning a little, "I think it would be well to disarrange the bed."

Stewart flung back the covers and rolled upon it, while his companion cast a last look about the room. Then she picked up her little bag and took out the purse and the two letters.

"Which pocket of a man's clothes is safest?" she asked.

"The inside coat pocket. There are two inside pockets in the coat you have on. One of them has a flap which b.u.t.tons down. Nothing could get out of it."

She took the coins from the purse, dropped them into the pocket, and replaced the purse in the bag. Then she started to place the letters in the pocket, but hesitated, looking at him searchingly, her lips compressed.

"My friend," she said, coming suddenly close to him and speaking in the merest breath, "I am going to trust you with a great secret. The information I carry is in these letters--apparently so innocent. If anything should happen to me----"

"Nothing is going to happen to you," broke in Stewart, roughly. "That is what I am for!"

"I know--and yet something may. If anything should, promise me that you will take these letters from my pocket, and by every means in your power, seek to place them in the hands of General Joffre."

"General Joffre?" repeated Stewart. "Who is he?"

"He is the French commander-in-chief."

"But what chance would I have of reaching him? I should merely be laughed at if I asked to see him!"

"Not if you asked in the right way," and again she hesitated. Then she pressed still closer. "Listen--I have no right to tell you what I am about to tell you, and yet I must. Do you remember at Aix, I looked at you like this?" and she caught her lower lip for an instant between the thumb and little finger of her left hand.

"Yes, I remember; and you burst into tears immediately afterward."

"That was because you did not understand. If, in answer, you had pa.s.sed your left hand across your eyes, I should have said, in French, 'Have we not met before?' and if you had replied, 'In Berlin, on the twenty-second,' I should have known that you were one of ours. Those pa.s.swords will take you to General Joffre himself."

"Let us repeat them," Stewart suggested. In a moment he knew them thoroughly. "And _that's_ all right!" he said.

"You consent, then?" she asked, eagerly.

"To a.s.sist you in every way possible--yes."

"To leave me, if I am not able to go on; to take the letters and press on alone," she insisted, her eyes s.h.i.+ning. "Promise me, my friend!"

"I shall have to be governed by circ.u.mstances," said Stewart, cautiously. "If that seems the best thing to do--why, I'll do it, of course. But I warn you that this enterprise would soon go to pieces if it had no better wits than mine back of it. Why, in the few minutes they were searching you back there at the station, I walked straight into a trap--and with my eyes wide open, too--at the very moment when I was proudly thinking what a clever fellow I was!"

"What was the trap?" she asked, quickly.

"I was talking to that officer, and babbled out the story of how I came to go to the Kolner Hof, and he seemed surprised that a member of the police should have recommended it--which seems strange to me, too," he added, "now that I think of it. Then he asked me suddenly how you knew I was there."