Ruth's daily tasks did not often bring her into contact with the chief
of her unit. This was a very large hospital--one of the most extensive
base hospitals in France. There were thousands of dollars' worth of
supplies in Ruth's single department.
At present the American Red Cross at this point was caring for French
and Canadian wounded. As the American forces came over, were developed
into fighting men, and were brought back from the battlefield hospitals
as _grands blessés_, as the French call the more seriously wounded, this
base would finally handle American wounded only.
Ruth went through some of the wards in her spare hours, for she had
become acquainted with several of the nurses coming over. The appeal of
the helpless men (some of them blinded) wrenched the tender heart of the
girl of the Red Mill as nothing she had ever before experienced.
She found that in her off hours she could be of use in the hospital
wards. So many of the patients wished to write home, but could do so
only through the aid of the Red Cross workers. This task Ruth could
perform, for she could write and speak French.
Nobody interfered with her when she undertook these extra tasks. She saw
that many of the girls in her own unit kept away from the wards because
the sight of the wounded and crippled men was hard to bear. Even Clare
Biggars had other uses for her spare moments than writing letters for
helpless _blessés_.
Ruth was not forced into contact with the chief of her unit, and was
glad thereof. Her weekly reports went up to Madame Mantel, and that was
quite all Ruth had to do with the woman in black.
But the girl heard her mates talking a good deal about the woman. The
latter seemed to be a favorite with most of the unit. Clare Biggars
quite "raved" about Madame Mantel.
"And she knows so many nice people!" Clare exclaimed. "I wish my French
was better. I went to dinner last night with Madame Mantel at that
little café of the Chou-rouge. Half the people there seemed to know her.
And Professor Perry----"
"Not the man who came over on the steamer with us?" Ruth asked with
sudden anxiety.
"The very same," said Clare. "He ate at our table."
"I don't suppose that little Italian chef, Signor Aristo, was among
those present, too?" Ruth asked suspiciously.
"No. The only Italian I saw was not lame like Signor Aristo. Madame said
he was an Italian commissioner. He was in uniform."
"Who was in uniform? Aristo?"
"Why, no! How you talk! The Italian gentleman at the restaurant. Aristo
had a short leg, don't you remember? This man was dressed in an Italian
uniform--all red and green, and medals upon his coat."
"I think I will go to the Chou-rouge myself," Ruth said dryly. "It must
be quite a popular place. But I hope they serve something to eat besides
the red cabbage the name signifies."
Again her suspicions were aroused to fever heat. If Professor Perry was
Legrand disguised, he and Mrs. Mantel had got together again. And
Clare's mention of the Italian added to Ruth's trouble of mind, too.
José could easily have assumed the heavy shoe and called himself
"Aristo." Perhaps he was an Italian, and not a Mexican, after all. The
trio of crooks, if such they were, had not joined each other here in
Lyse by accident. There was something of a criminal nature afoot, Ruth
felt sure. And yet with what evidence could she go to the Red Cross
authorities?
Besides, something occurred to balk her intention of going to the café
of the Chou-rouge to get a glimpse of the professor and the Italian
commissioner. That day, much to her surprise, the medical major at the
head of the great hospital sent for the girl of the Red Mill.
"Miss Fielding," he said, upon shaking hands with her, "you have been
recommended to me very highly as a young woman to fill a certain special
position now open at Clair. Do you mind leaving your present
employment?"
"Why, no," the girl said slowly.
"I think the work at Clair will appeal to you," the major continued. "I
understand that you have been working at off hours in the convalescent
wards. That is very commendable."
"Oh, several of the other girls have been helping there as well as I."
"I do not doubt it," he said with a smile. "But it is reported to me
that your work is especially commendable. You speak very good French. It
is to a French hospital at Clair I can send you. A representative of the
Red Cross is needed there to furnish emergency supplies when called
upon, and particularly to communicate with the families of the
_blessés_, and to furnish special services to the patients. You have a
way with you, I understand, that pleases the poor fellows and that fits
you for this position of which I speak."
"Oh, I believe I should like it!" the girl cried, her eyes glistening.
It seemed to be just the work she had hoped for from the
beginning--coming in personal touch with the wounded. A place where her
sympathies would serve the poor fellows.
"The position is yours. You will start to-night," declared the major.
"Clair is within sound of the guns. It has been bombarded twice; but we
shall hope the _Boches_ do not get so near again."
Ruth was delighted with the chance to go. But suddenly a new thought
came to her mind. She asked:
"Who recommended me, sir?"
"You have the very best recommendation you could have, Miss Fielding,"
he said pleasantly. "Your chief seems to think very highly of your
capabilities. Madame Mantel suggested your appointment."
Fortunately, the major was not looking at Ruth as he spoke, but was
filling out her commission papers for the new place she had accepted.
The girl's emotion at that moment was too great to be wholly hidden.
Rose Mantel to recommend her for any position! It seemed unbelievable!
Unless----
The thought came to Ruth that the woman in black wished her out of the
way. She feared the girl might say something regarding the Robinsburg
fire that would start an official inquiry here in France regarding Mrs.
Mantel and her particular friends. Was that the basis for the woman in
black's desire to get Ruth out of the way? Should the latter tell this
medical officer, here and now, just what she thought of Mrs. Mantel?
How crass it would sound in his ears if she did so! Rose Mantel had
warmly recommended Ruth for a position that the girl felt was just what
she wanted.
She could not decide before the major handed her the papers and an order
for transportation in an ambulance going to Clair. He again shook hands
with her. His abrupt manner showed that he was a busy man and that he
had no more time to give to her affairs.
"Get your passport viséed before you start. Never neglect your passport
over here in these times," advised the major.
Should she speak? She hesitated, and the major sat down to his desk and
took up his pen again.
"Good-day, Miss Fielding," he said. "And the best of luck!"
The girl left the office, still in a hesitating frame of mind. There
were yet several hours before she left the town. Her bags were quickly
packed. All the workers of the Red Cross "traveled light," as Clare
Biggars laughingly said.
Ruth decided that she could not confide in Clare. Already the Western
girl was quite enamored of the smiling, snaky Rose Mantel. It would be
useless to ask Clare to watch the woman. Nor could Ruth feel that it
would be wise to go to the French police and tell them of her suspicions
concerning the woman in black.
The French have a very high regard for the American Red Cross--as they
have for their own _Croix Rouge_. They can, and do, accept assistance
for their needy poilus and for others from the American Red Cross,
because, in the end, the organization is international and is not
affiliated with any particular religious sect.
To accuse one of the Red Cross workers in this great hospital at Lyse
would be very serious--no matter to what Ruth's suspicions pointed. The
girl could not bring herself to do that.
When she went to the prefect of police to have her passport viséed she
found a white-mustached, fatherly man, who took a great interest in her
as an _Americaine mademoiselle_ who had come across the ocean to aid
France.
"I kiss your hand, Mademoiselle!" he said. "Your bravery and your regard
for my country touches me deeply. Good fortune attend your efforts at
Clair. You may be under bombardment there, my child. It is possible. We
shall hope for your safety."
Ruth thanked him for his good wishes, and, finally, was tempted to give
some hint of her fears regarding the supposed Professor Perry and the
Italian Clare had spoken of.
"They may be perfectly straightforward people," Ruth said; "but where I
was engaged in Red Cross work in America these two men--I am almost sure
they are the same--worked under the names of Legrand and José, one
supposedly a Frenchman and the other a Mexican. There was a fire and
property was destroyed. Legrand and José were suspected in the matter,
but I believe they got away without being arrested."
"Mademoiselle, you put me under further obligations," declared the
police officer. "I shall make it my business to look up these two
men--and their associates."
"But, Monsieur, I may be wrong."
"If it is proved that they are in disguise, that is sufficient. We are
giving spies short shrift nowadays."
His stern words rather troubled Ruth. Yet she believed she had done her
duty in announcing her suspicions of the two men. Of Rose Mantel she
said nothing. If the French prefect made a thorough investigation, as he
should, he could not fail to discover the connection between the men and
the chief of the Red Cross supply unit at the hospital.
Ruth's arrangements were made in good season, and Clare and the other
girls bade her a warm good-bye at the door of their pension. The
ambulance that was going to Clair proved to be an American car of famous
make with an ambulance body, and driven by a tall, thin youth who wore
shell-bowed glasses. He was young and gawky and one could see hundreds
of his like leaving the city high schools in America at half-past three
o'clock, or pacing the walks about college campuses.
He looked just as much out of place in the strenuous occupation of
ambulance driver as anyone could look. He seemingly was a "bookish"
young man who would probably enjoy hunting a Greek verb to its lair. Tom
Cameron would have called him "a plug"--a term meaning an over-faithful
student.
Ruth climbed into the seat beside this driver. She then had no more than
time to wave her hand to the girls before the ambulance shot away from
the curb, turned a corner on two wheels, and, with the staccato blast of
a horn that sounded bigger than the car itself, sent dogs and
pedestrians flying for their lives.
"Goodness!" gasped Ruth when she caught her breath. Then she favored the
bespectacled driver with a surprised stare. He looked straight ahead,
and, as they reached the edge of the town, he put on still more speed,
and the girl began to learn why people who can afford it buy automobiles
that have good springs and shock absorbers.
"Do--do you _have_ to drive this way?" she finally shrilled above the
clatter of the car.
"Yes. This is the best road--and that isn't saying much," the
bespectacled driver declared.
"No! I mean so fa-a-ast!"
"Oh! Does it jar you? I'll pull her down. Got so used to getting over
all the ground I can before I break something--or a shell comes----"
He reduced speed until they could talk to each other. Ruth learned all
in one gush, it seemed, that his name was Charlie Bragg, that he had
been on furlough, and that they had given him a "new second-hand
flivver" to take up to Clair and beyond, as his old machine had been
quite worn out.
He claimed unsmilingly to be more than twenty-one, that he had left a
Western college in the middle of his freshman year to come over to drive
a Red Cross car, and that he was writing a book to be called "On the
Battlefront with a Flivver," in which his brother in New York already
had a publisher interested.
"Gee!" said this boy-man, who simply amazed Ruth Fielding, "Bob's ten
years older than I am, and he's married, and his wife makes him put on
rubbers and take an umbrella if it rains when he starts for his office.
And they used to call me 'Bubby' before I came over here."
Ruth could appreciate that! She laughed and they became better friends.