He felt the call now of three great forces: America, Humanity, and his
soul--but the greatest of these was Humanity! Each held him by a new, a
strong appeal; each looked confidently to the best there was in him,
wrapped him in entreating arms that struggled to inspire the highest
type of courage.
Carefully the little refugees followed him out into the calm moonlight,
the tots whose minds had gone back to shadowland acting as automatons
under the silent direction of their sister. He stopped once, as though
with indecision, and looked at them; then set his teeth fast and again
went on. Hugging the snagged walls, crossing open places on hands and
knees, they came finally to the spot Jeb had previously selected for
them to wait, while he crept ahead to reach the pyramids of stacked
rifles before letting his presence be known.
He could distinctly hear the sounds of digging now, but there was no
exchange of words--doubtless the stilled sentry had been the only
loquacious spirit among them. This presence of human beings laboring in
silence at dead of night made his task decidedly ticklish, and minutes
passed before he gained a position behind the last pile of rubble,
overlooking the hole.
Besides the fourteen Germans he had expected to see below, he now made
out one other, an officer, who, doubtless because he sat well beneath
the opposite wall, had escaped observation during the first
reconnaissance. This brought the total to fifteen--three clips of
cartridges and no misses, he told himself, if it came to a fight. The
men toiled surlily, as though that beaver-like industry, everywhere
displayed by the German army in fatigue work, had about reached the
quitting point. It was, moreover, possible that they sulked for having
been detailed to a duty which meant almost certain death.
Jeb did not know how to challenge them, but a pointed rifle and a stern
command in any language is never difficult of translation between
soldiers of opposing armies. He saw now that six of them were laboring
with a large stone, and there could be no more favorable time for him to
act. With a bound he reached the edge.
"Hands up!" he barked.
The fifteen faces turned to him were blank with astonishment.
"Hands up!" he repeated.
The officer, first to recover, made a quick reach for his pistol, and
Jeb dropped him in his tracks. This shot, and its effect, broke the
spell. Spades and picks were thrown aside, the stone fell with a crash,
and the men, thoroughly cowered, raised their hands, calling: "Kamerad!
Kamerad!"--the same old cry that has rung from Verdun to the sea,
although Jeb was hearing it for the first time.
By gesture he commanded them to climb out, one at a time, and in single
file to march farther away from the rifles, since at some personal cost
they might have yet attempted a rush and overpowered him. But there was
no rush in these exhausted men, and, except for a few who showed signs
of relief, they took the situation with stolid gravity.
In a hundred yards he halted them and called the child, who came bravely
out of hiding with the remnants of her family; but, confronted by the
grimly uniformed line, she drew back screaming.
"It's all right, little one," Jeb called reassuringly. "These are your
horses; come quickly, hop up and ride!"
One of the prisoners, understanding French, began to laugh as he
translated this to his comrades, but Jeb peremptorily stopped all
conversation. To let these fellows get an inch beyond the strictest
discipline was to invite disaster. Yet now he could give orders through
this interpreter, and soon the column was marching silently southward,
its first three men each bearing on his shoulders a wan little victim
from the "empire of death." The others followed obediently enough, while
Jeb, in a position to enfilade the column--thus maintaining a command of
each file--brought up the rear. From his attitude and voice the captives
seemed to know that he was on a very dangerous tension, and that the
slightest hesitation on their part would mean instant death. They had no
desire to test his skill further than that one snap shot through their
officer's brain.
His first concern was to drive straight southward and get clear of the
machine-gun redoubts, which he felt sure were being extended westward;
and as the success of this plan hinged largely upon absolute silence, he
had promised fourteen inches of bayonet to the first man who spoke,
coughed, sneezed, or stubbed his toe. Moreover, he was recklessly
prepared to execute this threat without a second's hesitation, fully
realizing that if he would hold supremacy against such overpowering odds
he must let his words and acts mesh with the nicety of machine gears, or
his authority would vanish.
From time to time, when the burden of this responsibility began to wear
down his courage, and fear came creeping in at the sheer audacity of
this undertaking, he would raise his eyes to the three little tots
ahead--and feel every nerve grow steady. As a consequence, the men were
thoroughly in hand, stepping with caution and showing every disposition
to carry out his orders.
In this way they covered perhaps a mile, reaching a ground of
comparative safety where their silence might have relaxed without
bringing about disaster. But Jeb would take no chance, and forced the
column to proceed with the same scrupulous care. As he was skirting a
group of the dead, that looked frightfully grotesque in the pale
moonlight, a voice almost at his back sent terror to his soul--then joy.
"Well, w'ot d'ye know about thot!" it said guardedly.
"Tim!" he cried, instantly calling a halt. There could be no mistaking
that voice, were it heard anywhere on earth. "Tim, where are you?"
"If it ain't Jeb, may I be shot for a spy! B'ys, deliverance is come!"
And the sergeant raised himself to a sitting position, while several
forms about him also began to stir.
"You blessed Irishman," said Jeb, delightedly, "if I could take my eyes
off this bunch, darned if I wouldn't kiss you!"
"Ye've brought better'n a kiss, lad--but ye can do thot yit, mind ye, if
I see inither sun!"
"Are you too badly hurt to be carried in?"
"Thot's a divil av a question, now! Sure, me an' the b'ys is too
continted to move for annything, lest 'tis a pitcher av ice-water----"
his voice seemed to crack at the mention of this.
Through the interpreter Jeb ordered a man to lift him; and as a big
fellow stepped forward, Tim chuckled:
"If this don't beat the Dutch, may I be shot--ow! me leg! Here, ye
butcher, don't ye know better'n to handle a mon like a trunk! Kneel, ye
spalpeen, whilst I straddle the neck av ye!"
When the German arose with Tim firmly astride his shoulders Jeb sent out
another prisoner, then another, until nine wounded were prepared for
transport rearward.
"You're sure there aren't any more, Tim?" he asked.
"Faith, an' I wisht there was, lad," the sergeant answered soberly.
"Pass me up me rifle, like a good b'y, forinst we start! I see be the
black-and-gold button on me ar-rmy mule thot he's a Landstrumer, an'
they's tricky b'ys, at times!"
There was a cheer so spontaneous about this Irishman, whose very genius
for happiness had lightened many a heavy burden, that his mount began
to shake with laughter; whereupon Tim, in spite of a wound that pained
grievously, grinned down at him.
"Laugh away, ye fat-headed Fritz," he said. "But don't go tryin' to buck
me off, or 'tis Tim Doreen'll crack yer periscope--bein' as he's settin'
on it! Jeb, ye've two spare ar-rmy mules--let thim bring in all the
rifles, like a good lad!"
They had gone but a little way when Tim caught the German by the ear,
saying:
"Gee-haw, ye beggarly Boche! Turn 'round, an' take me to the boss av
this job!"--but, as the prisoner did no more than flinch, he called
back: "Jeb, order this outcast to halt, whilst ye come up to us!"
When this had been accomplished through the interpreter, and the two
friends were moving side by side, the sergeant asked:
"D'ye think there's no fear av this divil understandin' God's language?
Thin, I've a mind to ask w'ot's come over ye, lad--but ye mustn't be
takin' it amiss! Ye know thot whin I saw ye last, ye wasn't w'ot I'd
call love-sick for a scrap!"
"Tim," he answered, in an awed voice, "it was the sight of those
children!"
"The childer, ye say! Thim w'ot's forinst us?"
"Yes. They did it! God, but they were a terrible sight to see--it sort
of made me crazy!"
"'Tis a Christian kind av insanity, lad," the sergeant mused. "I hope
ye'll be havin' a domn fine lot av it!"
Thus, when the low-lying moon flooded the dressing-station quadrangle,
Jeb, with fourteen prisoners, nine wounded comrades and three little
citizens from the "empire of death," was challenged by lookouts of a new
regiment that had arrived during the night to occupy the old front line
trench. The next minute cheers were ringing from a thousand throats.
Crossing the narrow bridge Tim, though weak from pain, yelled:
"Sind a squad after us, lads, an' ye can have our mules whin they're
unloaded!"
* * * * *
Dr. Bonsecours had turned with a sigh of relief from the last of his
cases and stepped outside for a breath of air, when the sound of
cheering reached him.
"There is some good news," he called to Marian, who came and stood
nearby, listening. Yet, even at that moment, his thoughts were of her,
and he turned, saying gently: "You must rest; I really insist upon it!
If you don't, I--I shall break down, myself."
She looked at him searchingly, reading well the fatigue, the unutterable
strain, which marked his face, and whispered:
"You're the one who needs it! Don't you realize how helpless we would be
here without you?"
"And how helpless I would be without _you_?" he murmured. "Oh, my
wonderful Marian----!" He checked himself with an effort; yet, had the
moon been brighter, he would have seen the pallor in her face yield to a
flood of warm color.
The tramp of men was coming nearer, men who slipped and stumbled down
the steep road, and then a group of curious figures staggered into view,
seeming in the uncertain light scarcely to be human. Turning right they
marched heavily to the dressing-station entrance and, at Jeb's command,
halted.
Bonsecours, with mouth agape, stepped back at their approach, while
Marian drew slightly closer to him. There is nothing in the French
language which exactly corresponds to our expression of amazement:
"Well, I'll be damned!" but whatever comes nearest to it is what the
great surgeon now said, like a common sapper. At the same instant the
nurse at his side gave a low cry. She was not looking at Jeb, but at the
children.