OVER THE SEA
Evelyn had told the truth. Professor Morris was a changed man. For the
first time in all his orderly humdrum student existence, he had had to
face war and death and murder, and all the crimes that stalk through a
land at such times.
It had accomplished what all the arguments, all the lecturing, all the
entreaties in the world would never have accomplished. Professor Morris
had been shaken out of himself. There had been sleepless nights when his
life had looked very poor and thin and useless. What was his book, a dry
thing of many pages, when he compared it to the needs of the dear
children who had been so loyal and so true to him? It came to him that
culture may be made as selfish and as harmful as any vice there is.
But Benjamin Morris was, after all, a man; and late as it was, it was
not too late for him to humbly resolve to be a better father, and a more
valuable citizen. And he kept his word.
Presently Ivan returned. The boy had purposely kept away until the
reunited family had had time to talk everything all over. When he
entered, Professor Morris sat looking at him, with his eyes narrowed and
a puzzled look on his face. Evelyn knew that look, and wondered what was
passing in her father's mind. He sat quite silent, and after a little
left the room. When he returned, he brought the Princess Olga, who was
leading the little Rika as though she dared not leave her out of her
sight.
"We have been talking things over," said Princess Olga. "Of course the
only reasonable thing for Professor Morris to do is to return to America
without delay. He has no right to remain here and possibly endanger the
lives of so many young people, and there is nothing that he can do for
us. Some day we will want help, and then we know that you will all come
to our aid. Ivan, we have been talking it all over with my husband, the
Prince, and we have decided that the best thing for you to do is to go
also. Wait," she said as Ivan shook his head. "My boy, our country is in
ruins. Your father is at the front, we know not where. You can not serve
him by remaining here where you are, every moment in danger of being
arrested and held as a prisoner or worse. Your estates are in ruins; but
not withstanding, you are, after your father, the head of your house.
You owe to Poland the one thing you can now do for her. You must
preserve and safeguard your life. And you must go to the University
where Professor Morris is such an eminent instructor. You must learn
statesmanship. Some day, Ivan, Poland will need you. What chance have
you here now in this stricken land?
"I want you to go, Ivan. We will take the responsibility. And I want you
to take these jewels, and use them for your expenses and education!" She
held out a glittering handful of priceless gems.
"No," said Professor Morris firmly. "Princess, you will need all you
have. It happens that I have plenty of money, and we live very simply,
so there is enough and to spare for the two children we hope to take
with us."
"Two?" said the Princess.
"The baby," said the Professor. "I confess the needs of an infant seem
too complex and difficult for me to cope with, but my daughter
entertains no fears, and insists upon taking the little fellow with us."
"It's a girl, father," corrected Evelyn.
"Ah, yes," said the Professor, bowing. "I believe you did say that he is
a girl."
"I have told him at least a dozen times," said Evelyn in a whisper to
Warren.
"I suppose we have got to take her along, no matter what he is," Warren
whispered back.
"However," said the Professor, glancing reprovingly at the children,
"there is plenty of money, in reason, and if Ivan prefers, we will keep
an account of his educational expenses, and at some future date he can
repay what I shall deem necessary to expend for him."
"That is better," said the Princess. She turned to Ivan.
"You will go, Ivan."
"Yes," said Ivan. Then sadly, "But I wish I could see my father."
"It is indeed hard," said the Princess. "We feel that he must be unhurt
however, and I know that he will be so relieved, and glad to know that
you are in a place of safety. So that is settled." She smiled.
"Now there is one more thing to be done. I have here a permit from the
General in charge of the city. It gives us safe conduct on the roads to
Warsaw and return, to get the baby. I have arranged for one of the
nurses to go with the new chauffeur and Warren. I will take part of her
duties, and Evelyn may assist me. She will get the baby and bring it
here to us. They can go tonight, and return tomorrow. All will then be
ready for your departure, if in the meantime Professor Morris can
arrange to get your passports and your sailing privileges."
"It sounds easy," said Warren to Evelyn. "When do you suppose we will
start?"
"As soon as the car is ready," said the Princess. "Get wraps for
yourself, Warren. The nurse is ready, and she has everything needful for
the baby."
"Oh, Warren, be careful, begged Evelyn. I declare I have half a mind to
go with you!"
Warren laughed. "I have a whole mind that you will not!" he said,
patting her shoulder. "You stay right here and don't go out of the
place, and keep father and Ivan and Elinor where you can see them all
the time. And if we are not back by noon tomorrow, don't begin to worry.
Just lay our delay to a puncture or something of that sort. We won't be
molested. The paper from the General is as good as a regiment of men.
You had better believe that no one would dare hurt us, or even detain us
while I have that to show them."
"Well, be careful just the same," begged Evelyn.
"I surely will," promised Warren.
Everything went as smoothly as Warren had anticipated. The trip to
Warsaw was without a hitch. Again and again they were stopped by
soldiers, and each time the paper from the Commanding General acted like
magic. Indeed, they were more than once assisted on their way, or
directed to short cuts. In Warsaw it was the same. Warren, however,
avoided that part of the city where he thought he might come in contact
with Captain Handel, and driving by another route, approached the house
of the neighbor who had so kindly taken care of the homeless little
waif. The child was safe and well, having suffered less than they had
feared from its terrible experience. With a thousand thanks and promises
to write, Warren left the good, motherly woman and started on the return
trip.
They slept at an obscure little village that night in peace. The town
had been overlooked in the tempest of war, and was untouched.
At the inn they found good food and plenty of it. In the morning, when
they started, they found every available part of the car crammed with
offerings for the wounded soldiers. The chauffeur had spent a busy
evening talking to the horrified villagers and it is to be believed that
the terrors he had witnessed in Lodz and elsewhere did not lose in the
telling. So there were all sorts of offerings for the wounded; bread and
dried fish and cheese; and money, sometimes gold, sometimes a single
kopek wrapped in scraps of paper, written over with heartfelt prayers of
pity. There was scarcely room for the passengers to crowd in the car.
Warren took the wheel, and the chauffeur, still the hero of the
occasion, stood on the running board and waved his cap and called his
farewells as long as they were in sight.
The baby slept most of the time. It was a good baby, and Warren began to
regard it with less distrust. They reached Lodz without accident and as
they drew up at the palace, now only a hospital, Warren's watch stood at
twelve. It had been a wonderful trip.
Everything was going well. The Prince was stronger, and his wife, the
beautiful Princess, was smiling happily.
All that day and the next the Professor and the three boys went from
office to office and back again to the army headquarters, getting the
necessary papers.
It was a difficult matter to get everything adjusted, but finally it was
done, and there was no longer any reason for them to remain.
They said good-bye to the Princess and her children, and at last started
on the journey home.
It was a time to be remembered as long as they lived. All of Europe was
plunged in gloom. Even the neutral countries they touched or crossed in
their roundabout way were oppressed by such sorrow that it was almost as
bad as war.
Reaching a seaport at last, they secured passage on a slow American
boat, and it was not until they watched the shore receding from their
view that they actually believed that they were on the way home.
"Just the things we have seen coming over from Lodz would fill a book,"
said Warren to the group at the rail.
"I wouldn't want to read it," said Jack, shuddering.
"Nor I!" said Evelyn. "Oh, boys, you don't know how funny you look in
the clothes you have on!"
"What's the matter with my clothes?" said Warren, looking down at the
very short trousers and very long coat he was wearing. "I don't see but
what I am all right, but doesn't Jack look cuty-cute? Kind of Lord
Fauntleroy effect!"
Everyone stared at Jack, who looked himself over in surprise. "It is all
they had at that store we went to that would fit me. I try to turn those
pants up, but they keep coming down." Everyone laughed as Jack stooped
and once more tried to turn up the loose trousers which enveloped his
slim legs. Left to themselves, they reached half way to his ankles, so
Jack, who was used to knickerbockers, had carefully rolled them to his
knee. The result was that most of the time one leg or the other hung
dismally down its full length. His jacket was a short roundabout,
something like an Eton jacket, and his shirt was soft and frilled.
"I don't see why we didn't just wear the things we had on," he
complained.
"I guess not!" said Warren. "Those work clothes? Why, Jack, see how
dressy we are now! We look like somebody; a bunch of 'em! We have got
sample clothes from half the countries in Europe. See how neutral that
makes us! Take yourself, Jack. Your feet are Polish, and your pants are
German, and the top of you looks Dutch. Is it?"
"My cap came from home," said Jack furiously, "and so did my face! The
minute we get out here a way, I am going to yell Hurrah for America as
loud as ever I can."
"Wow!" said Warren. "Excuse me, Jack, old fellow, I didn't mean to be
disrespectful. We are all in the same fix as far as clothes go. Even
Evelyn looks a little queer. 'All the world is a little queer,' he
quoted, 'and thee is a little queer.'"
Safe on board ship, our party found that they were utterly tired out.
They slept hour after hour; they were furiously hungry. The days went
swiftly, without accident. Professor Morris, true to his new
resolutions, spent a great part of each day with his children, and they
found him a most delightful and amusing companion. He developed an
alarming fondness for the baby, which he persisted in calling "him." He
was fond of holding the quiet little creature, but after one of his
lapses into the forgetfulness of the past, he happened to think of
something he wanted to do so he laid his newspaper in Evelyn's lap, and
before she could stop him placed the baby firmly in a waste paper box
head down.
After that Evelyn watched him. They had brought a young refugee with
them as nurse for the baby, so Evelyn was not burdened with too much
care.
The boys played games and made plans and wrote letters. Ivan commenced a
diary. He said he would never be able to remember every single thing
that was happening, and going to happen, and he didn't want to forget
it. Warren planned to have an evening with the home Scouts and tell them
all that had occurred.
"And you will be Exhibit A," he declared, clapping Ivan on the shoulder.
The voyage drew to an end, as all fortunate voyages will. The last night
came clear and fine. There was a stir of joyful anticipation on the
great ship. Everybody packed up what trifles they had been able to bring
away with them. Everybody talked and exchanged addresses and said
good-bye. The day of landing is always too, full and confused for
anything of that sort. Once more the Professor's manuscript seemed to
him to be a thing of value. He picked it up and put it down a thousand
times. It was a relief to everyone when the hour grew so late that even
the most restless turned in, and went to sleep or at least tried to.
At gray dawn Ivan was aroused by Warren shaking him.
"Get up, Ivan, get up!" he cried. "I can see it!" The boy was shaking
violently, and his teeth chattered.
"What ails you?" said Ivan, speaking in Polish. "See what?"
Warren answered in English. "America. Home, the little old United
States!" A dry sob choked him. "Oh!" he said, "I didn't know I felt like
this! Hurry up, old Scout! Dress and let's get out!"
Voices sounded through the ship; people stirred and hurried with their
dressing. It was as though a shock of electricity had stirred them.
Certainly there had been no spoken call.
As the boys hurried to the deck, the risen sun, a ball of gold, blazed
like a celestial blessing, a flood of glory on the marvelous shore line
ahead. Warren rushed forward.
But Ivan, without a look, turned and made his solitary way to the stern
of the ship, and there, all alone, looked away over the empty sea.
For long he gazed. His eyes were filled with tears.
"Good-bye, my father," he said. "Good-bye, my country. I will come back
to you." He flung his hand out in a passionate gesture of farewell. Then
with a last look, Prince Ivan, homeless, countryless, and fatherless,
slowly turned, and, the boy Ivan went soberly to join Warren, who, crazy
with joy, hung yelling over the rail at the prow.
Before them, like the vision of an enchanted land, rose the wonderful
shore line of the harbor; and before them, nearer and nearer, clearer
and clearer, the Statue of Liberty, wise, strong, majestic, with the
only true majesty of earth on her beautiful brow, the majesty of Freedom
and of Truth.
They had reached America.
THE END