_Faith and Unfaith_
WITHIN the next weeks Major Jimmie Hersey found himself much less lonely
than during the earlier part of his stay in the occupied city of
Coblenz. Of late a pleasant friendship had been developing between the
young Countess Charlotta and himself.
After her too lengthy walk, Bianca Zoli had been ill and not able to
spend as much time with her new friend as she formerly had.
At first Charlotta had been inconsolable, blaming herself for Bianca's
breakdown and refusing to amuse herself in any of her accustomed ways.
But with the arrival of spring it became impossible for her to remain
indoors, especially as she was only permitted to see Bianca for a few
moments each day. It was not that Dr. and Mrs. Clark particularly blamed
Charlotta, Bianca being entirely responsible for her own actions.
Moreover, Dr. Clark did not believe that any one exhausting experience
had been the cause of Bianca's illness but an accumulating number of
them, especially her presence in Chateau-Thierry under such strange
conditions during one of the final battles of the war.
Yet it was Bianca's breakdown which was the beginning of a relation
approaching friendship between the young United States officer and the
Countess Charlotta Scherin.
As Bianca had been in a nearly fainting condition when she was brought
finally to the American Red Cross hospital, naturally Major Hersey
called there the next day to inquire for her.
By chance, as Charlotta had haunted the hospital all day, she and Miss
Pringle were leaving the moment Major Hersey arrived.
As his inquiry occupied only a short time, he was able to overtake the
young girl and her chaperon before they had gotten any distance away.
"I don't know what we should have done if you had not been riding
horseback yesterday, Major Hersey," Charlotta declared. "I don't believe
Bianca could possibly have walked back, or waited very long while we
tried to find a vehicle. I'm afraid too that I actually enjoyed my own
ride even under such circumstances. You cannot realize how much I have
missed riding in these last weeks. I think until my accident, or
whatever one may choose to call it, I had been on horseback every day of
life from the time I was five years old. I am envious of you. Do you
suppose it would be possible for me to get hold of a horse in Coblenz
which I could use? Any kind of horse will be better than none."
Ordinarily, Jimmie Hersey was shy, finding it difficult to talk to young
women or girls without embarrassment. Yet one could scarcely be shy with
the Countess Charlotta, she was so frank and direct herself and so free
from any affectation.
"I don't know, I expect it would be hard work to find a woman's riding
horse in Coblenz these days. The horses that were any good were
requisitioned for the German cavalry. But there is just a chance that I
may be able to borrow one of our own American horses for you
occasionally. I can't promise of course, but it would be jolly if you
could ride with me."
"I should love it," the Countess Charlotta answered.
"But I suppose we ought to have some one else with us; it won't do under
the circumstances for us to ride alone," Major Hersey added.
During this speech the young officer colored slightly, since it was not
among his usual duties to chaperon a girl. However, he knew what was
fitting and intended that the conventions should be obeyed.
Glancing toward him, the little countess was about to demur, insisting
that, although of course it might be advisable to have an escort,
nevertheless, she did not wish to be deprived of opportunities to ride
for such a reason. However, observing Major Jimmie's expression rather
surprisingly she remained silent. In spite of his boyish appearance, his
gentle brown eyes and sometimes almost diffident manner, there was a
firmness in his mouth and chin which few persons ever misunderstood.
It was during one of their afternoon rides together, about ten days
later, when they were accompanied by Sergeant Donald Hackett and Nora
Jamison, that unexpectedly Charlotta turned to her escort.
"You don't approve of my having come away from home in the way that I
did, do you, Major Hersey? Oh, I know you have never said anything of
course, since you do not consider that we know each other sufficiently
well to discuss personalities, yet just the same you do disapprove of
me."
Jimmie Hersey shook his head.
"Certainly I do not disapprove of you." Then he flushed and laughed.
"May I say instead that I approve of you highly. You don't mind my being
a little complimentary?"
"Oh, if you mean to be flattering me, you need not think I am not
pleased. But what I meant was that you do not approve of my action.
Please answer me truthfully. I shall not be offended. After all, you
see I am asking you the question, so you cannot be blamed for telling me
the truth."
Still the young American officer hesitated.
"Well, Countess Charlotta, you must always remember that I am a soldier,
and that in so far as possible I try to live up to a soldier's ideals.
One of them is to face the music, never to run away. But there, that
seems an extremely impolite thing for me to have said! You know how glad
I am personally that you did come to Coblenz."
To the latter part of Major Hersey's remark, Charlotta apparently paid
no attention.
She dropped her chin for a moment and stared straight ahead of her.
This afternoon she was wearing a brown corduroy riding habit and brown
leather boots and a close fitting corduroy riding hat. Her father had
not been so obdurate that he had not sent Charlotta a large trunk of her
clothes soon after he learned of her safe arrival in Coblenz.
"You mean to say as kindly as possible that you think I am a coward,"
she returned finally. "That is what Mrs. Clark thinks also, only she has
not said so, I suppose because I have never asked her. Sometimes, I have
wondered since my arrival in Coblenz, if I should go back home and ask
my father's forgiveness, making him understand that I shall never marry
any one for whom I do not care. But my problem is, would he accept an
apology which did not include obedience? You see that is what my new
American friends cannot understand in my father's and my attitude to
each other. Besides, I do so want to go to the United States when Mrs.
Clark and Bianca and several of her Red Cross nurses return home. Mrs.
Clark tells me that she and Dr. Clark only intend remaining in Coblenz
until after the Germans have signed the treaty of peace. Dr. Clark then
feels that he must go back to his New York city practice and be relieved
by a younger man. Three or four of the American Red Cross nurses will be
sailing at the same time. You simply cannot guess how I long to travel.
Think of being as restless a person as I am and shut up in a tiny
country like Luxemburg! I have never been anywhere else except just into
Germany in all my life."
"Hard luck of course, and you would enjoy the United States! You are
just the kind of girl to appreciate it. You must do what you think is
right yourself since after all another fellow's judgment is not worth
much," Major Hersey replied, not altogether pleased with the idea of his
new friends vanishing from Coblenz when his own duties might keep him
there an indefinite time.
Later that afternoon, at about dusk, on his way toward home, Major James
Hersey was considering a number of matters somewhat seriously. He was a
United States officer with nothing to live upon save his pay. Up to the
present his one desire had been to continue to serve his country.
In Germany at this time there was a good deal of intensely bitter
feeling. With the delay in the presentation of the peace terms a less
friendly attitude toward America and the Americans was developing than
during the weeks first following the German defeat.
In the interior the poorer people were said to be hungry, war weary and
anxious to resume their normal business life.
In Coblenz there was especial dissatisfaction with the present German
government, Coblenz having been a centre of pan-Germanism and
pro-Kaiserism.
Carefully concealed as such ideas were supposed to be from the members
of the American Army of Occupation, there were United States officers
who appreciated that there were groups of prominent Germans at this time
desiring the return of the Kaiser and some form of monarchial control.
It was not known in March that the Kaiser might be tried by an
international court.
Quietly Major Hersey had been informed that the United States Secret
Service was endeavoring to discover the men who had been the Kaiser's
closest friends in Coblenz before his inglorious departure into
Holland.
There were still, Major Jimmie reflected, many interesting ways to serve
one's country, even if the great war were past.
This afternoon it struck him that this might become more of a sacrifice
than he had anticipated, but notwithstanding his country must always
remain first!
At the threshold of his own door he stopped, slightly puzzled. Some one
was already in his sitting-room, which was unusual at this hour. His
rooms were cleaned in the morning and he was seldom interrupted
afterwards either by a servant or any member of the household.
But probably a fellow officer had dropped in to see him and was awaiting
his return.
Suddenly, with this idea in mind, Major Hersey thrust his door open.
Then he stood stock still in a slightly apologetic attitude.
His room was occupied and by the head of the German household in which
he was at present living, Colonel Liedermann.
Major Hersey had not come into contact with him but once since his own
arrival in Coblenz several months before.
The old German Colonel, wearing civilian clothes, was standing examining
an American rifle, which the young American army officer had carelessly
left propped up against the wall in one corner of his room.
The older man wheeled sharply at the younger one's entrance.
Colonel Liedermann had the typical German face, broad, with heavy,
overhanging brows, small, stern blue eyes, and drooping jaws.
His face reddened at the present moment, but he said courteously: "I owe
you an apology for entering your room when you were not present. I came
to ask you if you would do me the favor of permitting me to look over
some of your American newspapers. Germany is not being informed of all
that is taking place in the world these days and I should like very much
to know. But it is not for myself alone that I make this request. I am
an old man and may not live long enough to see the new Germany if it is
ever possible for Germany to arise out of the ashes of the past. But my
son, as you know, has never recovered from his last and most serious
wound. To lie always in bed after so active a life, grows exceedingly
irksome. I find it difficult to keep him even fairly content. It was for
him I was asking the loan of your newspapers. I presume the fact that we
have so recently been enemies will not preclude your doing me this
kindness. If so, I regret my intrusion."
A little overcome by the old German officer's haughty manner and set
speech, Major Jimmie only murmured that he would be very glad of course
to permit his American newspapers to be read, if Colonel Liedermann and
his son did not feel that they would too greatly resent the American
point of view.
As he made this statement, although not pleased by the German officer's
request, Major Hersey was searching diligently for the latest bundle of
American papers which he had received.
As he handed them to the former German Colonel, the old officer said,
speaking in a more human fashion,
"I was interested in looking at this American rifle of yours. Naturally
as an old soldier I remain interested in firearms, although I shall not
live to see another war, however little I believe in a permanent world
peace. Clever piece of mechanism! I am told the American rifle is the
finest in the world!"
Not feeling called upon to reply to this speech and anxious that the old
officer should depart, Major Hersey made no response.
A little later, when he had finally gone, with an unusual expression
upon his boyish countenance, Major Jimmie Hersey sank down into his arm
chair.
Was it singular that one could not recover from the sensation of acute
distrust in the presence of a German? Among them there must be certain
individuals who were truthful and straightforward. Yet after a century
of training that the end justified the means, among German army officers
one could not expect to find any other standard, than the standard which
regarded the treaty of Belgium as a "scrap of paper." Betray any friend,
any cause, any country to accomplish one's purpose. And tonight,
although a member of Colonel Liedermann's household, Major Jimmie Hersey
knew he would always remain their foe, no matter with what appearance of
courtesy he might be treated.
It was an actual fact that never since his casual conversation with
little Gretchen, the baby of the family, had he the same sense of
untroubled serenity in the midst of this German military home.
Was it true that Captain Ludwig Liedermann was still unable to move from
his bed? If so why had little Gretchen told so ingenious a falsehood?
One would scarcely expect a little girl of six to make up so useless a
story. But if Captain Liedermann were well why should he continue to
make a pretence of illness? There were no penalties attached to the fact
that he had been a German officer. Could it be possible that he so
intensely disliked the idea of coming into contact with the troops
General Pershing had led to victory, that he preferred invalidism to
this other form of martyrdom?
There was just one point upon which Major Jimmie Hersey was able to make
up his mind during this one evening's meditation.
He would suggest to Miss Jamison that she make no more visits to the
Liedermann home. He had been surprised to find her returning not once
but several times of late. She must understand that the Red Cross nurses
were not supposed to make friends with the families of Germans until
after peace was declared.
The little Freia had not been seriously hurt, having entirely recovered
from her fright and injury by the next day. Nevertheless, Miss Jamison
had made not one, but four or five other calls since her introduction to
Frau Liedermann.
Of course, as he knew Miss Jamison but slightly, advice from him might
prove embarrassing. She was in reality more Hackett's friend than his,
although Sergeant Hackett would deny this fact. He had tried being
friendly with Nora Jamison as she attracted him, but she did not seem to
care for other interests than her Red Cross nursing and the children
who surrounded her like tiny golden bees about a honey pot.
Her ride this afternoon had been her one concession; however, after
reaching the Red Cross hospital, she had said it would be impossible for
her to ride again, although she had greatly enjoyed it. In the future
nursing and other work she had recently undertaken would occupy all her
time.
It might be difficult to see Nora Jamison alone in order to warn her
against any too great intimacy with the Liedermann family. Yet as a
fellow American Major Hersey intended making the effort.
He would watch and if she came again to the Liedermann house, join her
on her way back to the American Red Cross hospital.