BOOKS BY MARGARET VANDERCOOK
THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES
THE RANCH GIRLS AT RAINBOW LODGE
THE RANCH GIRLS' POT OF GOLD
THE RANCH GIRLS AT BOARDING SCHOOL
THE RANCH GIRLS IN EUROPE
THE RANCH GIRLS AT HOME AGAIN
THE RANCH GIRLS AND THEIR GREAT ADVENTURE
THE RED CROSS GIRLS SERIES
THE RED CROSS GIRLS IN THE BRITISH TRENCHES
THE RED CROSS GIRLS ON THE FRENCH FIRING LINE
THE RED CROSS GIRLS IN BELGIUM
THE RED CROSS GIRLS WITH THE RUSSIAN ARMY
THE RED CROSS GIRLS WITH THE ITALIAN ARMY
THE RED CROSS GIRLS UNDER THE STARS AND STRIPES
STORIES ABOUT CAMP FIRE GIRLS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT SUNRISE HILL
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AMID THE SNOWS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE OUTSIDE WORLD
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS ACROSS THE SEA
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS' CAREERS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN AFTER YEARS
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS IN THE DESERT
THE CAMP FIRE GIRLS AT THE END OF THE TRAIL
THE RED CROSS GIRLS IN BELGIUM
[Illustration: "LIEUTENANT HUME!" (_See page 117._)]
The Red Cross Girls in Belgium
By
MARGARET VANDERCOOK
Author of "The Ranch Girls Series," "Stories
about Camp Fire Girls Series," etc.
Illustrated
The John C. Winston Company
Philadelphia
Copyright, 1916, by
THE JOHN C. WINSTON CO.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. UNDER OTHER SKIES 7
II. A MODERN KNIGHT ERRANT 23
III. A SECRET MISSION 35
IV. PLANS FOR THE FUTURE 47
V. ST. GUDULA 58
VI. THE LOCKED DOOR 69
VII. A TRIANGLE 83
VIII. A PRISON AND A PRISONER 97
IX. A SECOND ACQUAINTANCE 110
X. A DISCUSSION, NOT AN ARGUMENT 121
XI. MONSIEUR BEBÉ 131
XII. THE GHOST 144
XIII. AN ARREST 157
XIV. A MONTH LATER 174
XV. POWERLESS 185
XVI. LOUVAIN 200
XVII. "SISTERS UNDER THE SKIN" 215
XVIII. DIFFICULTIES 227
XIX. EN ROUTE 241
XX. NOEL 258
THE RED CROSS GIRLS IN BELGIUM
CHAPTER I
_Under Other Skies_
After six months of nursing in the British trenches the four American
Red Cross girls were inspired to offer their services to the French
soldiers. An autumn and a winter they spent together in southern France,
keeping house in the little French "Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door."
Here the girls were so interested and so happy that for a little time
they almost forgot the tragedies near at hand.
During the first months there had come a lull in the fighting along the
borders of Alsace-Lorraine, where the American girls were now stationed.
So they had opportunity for enjoying the fragrant woods, "the pool of
Melisande" and the romantic atmosphere of the French country.
Their farmhouse was close upon the borders of an old chateau and
belonged to its owner, the Countess Castaigne. After a slight
misunderstanding a friendship develops between the old Countess and
three out of the four American girls. And here in the dignified old
Louis XIV drawing room they meet for the second time young Captain Henri
Castaigne, whom in Paris they had seen decorated with the Cross of the
Legion of Honor.
But between Eugenia Peabody, the New England girl who confesses herself
to have been born an "old maid," and the gifted young Frenchman, there
seems to be an immediate antagonism. Nevertheless, when the Germans
finally surprise the French by an unexpected attack during the French
retreat, it is Eugenia who alone rescued and cared for the wounded young
officer. The other girls, with the Countess Amélie, join the French army
in their new position. Later, when the French retake their old
trenches, they return to the former neighborhood.
But for weeks Eugenia has devoted herself to concealing Captain
Castaigne from the Germans and to nursing him back to health. Naturally
at the end of this time a change in their relations has taken place.
Captain Castaigne has developed a deep affection for Eugenia. But it is
difficult to understand her attitude toward him.
In any case, she makes up her mind that it is wiser for the four
American Red Cross girls again to change their field of labor. So at the
close of the story of "The Red Cross Girls on the French Firing Line,"
they have decided to leave for Belgium.
"We simply must get into Brussels some time this afternoon," Barbara
Meade declared. She was wearing her nurse's uniform and her manner and
expression were more than ordinarily professional.
About ten days before the four American Red Cross girls had arrived in
Belgium.
They were now seated on piles of loose brick and stone looking out
toward a brilliant sunset. Before them the land lay bleak and desolate,
while a half-burned house formed their background.
Nevertheless, as it was early summer time, tiny blades of green were
peeping up from the dry stubble. On the single apple tree that had been
left standing in a once comfortable orchard, a few apples at the top
were slowly ripening. Except for this there were few other signs of
summer's fulfilment.
In response to Barbara's speech Eugenia Peabody now shook her head with
her usual decision.
"Sorry, but I can't go with you," she answered abruptly. "I have
something more important to do. Tell them at the headquarters I'll try
and come another day."
Then without glancing at any one, Eugenia rose and stalked away. She
walked toward a small one-room cottage at some distance behind the
ruined house. There she stood with her hands clasped before her. The
place was utterly still and deserted. Yet it was difficult to tell
whether Eugenia was listening for some unusual sound, or whether she was
thinking upon a subject hundreds of miles from the present scene.
The girls were living in a big house a few miles outside of Brussels.
This was only a temporary arrangement, as they had not yet received
their orders for work from the Belgian Red Cross headquarters.
Barbara at this moment dug her shoe reflectively into the soft earth, in
the meanwhile staring after her friend.
"Do you know, girls, Eugenia Peabody has become a mystery to me lately?
When we started off on our expedition to Europe together, I thought I
understood her character better than either of you. Now I simply don't
see through her at all!"
Barbara frowned meditatively.
"Here she has been an heiress all this time, much richer even than
Mildred Thornton, when we believed her as poor as a church mouse! But
how could any human being have suspected Eugenia of riches when she wore
such dreadful clothes?"
So plaintively did Barbara conclude her speech that her two companions
laughed. Since arriving in tragic little Belgium they had not been able
to laugh frequently. But being only girls they welcomed every
opportunity.
Nona nodded agreement with her friend's point of view. The next moment
she turned from one to the other of them. Her expression had grown more
serious.
"We were hurt with Eugenia for not taking us into her confidence sooner,
weren't we?" she remarked, not so much in the manner of asking a
question as of making a statement.
If there had not been a rose-colored light on her face from the sunset
Nona would seem to have flushed at this instant.
"I was wounded," she went on, "even though Eugenia explained that she
had not meant to deceive us. She grew up very poor and when an old
bachelor uncle left her a fortune she never learned how to spend her
money because of her frugal New England training."
"Well, she is learning to spend it on other people now," Mildred
Thornton interrupted. "It seems tremendously kind for Eugenia to have
brought the little French girl, Nicolete, over to Belgium with us. She
really shocks Eugenia every five minutes in the day, but I suppose Gene
is trying to turn the child into a Puritan. Really, she had no reason in
the world for being interested in Nicolete except that she was helpful
when Captain Castaigne was ill. Then I presume Eugenia felt she might
get into trouble with no one to look after her, as she would spend her
time amusing the French soldiers."
"Mildred!" Barbara Meade whispered, "do be more careful. You know we
promised to say nothing of Nicolete's French origin. She would never
have been allowed to come into Belgium if her nationality had been
known. And Eugenia is dreadfully nervous for fear the child may be
suspected as a spy. No one is too young to escape suspicion these days!"
Barbara made this speech in hushed tones all the time looking carefully
about her.
The countryside was for the time being deserted, but at any moment a
group of German soldiers might pass by on the way to their barracks. A
well-traveled road ran along in front of the place where the Red Cross
girls were seated.
About an hour before they had come out together for a walk before dinner
and were now resting on their journey back to their new Belgian
headquarters.
At this moment Nona Davis got up and stood facing her other two friends.
"I have something to tell you," she began, "and I expect I had best not
put it off any longer. I had it in mind when I spoke of Eugenia's
secrecy, for you see we have all grown so intimate that we are almost
like sisters. I--I too have a confession to make. I tried to tell you
when we were crossing on the steamer together. Then it seemed to me I
had no right to think you would be interested, and probably you won't be
interested now."
Barbara was leaning her rounded chin on her hand. Mildred's lips were
parted and her breath coming a little quicker by reason of her interest.
For she and Barbara both recalled Nona Davis' previous hesitation when
talking of herself. They only knew a few facts concerning her history.
She had been brought up by her father, an old southern soldier, in the
city of Charleston, South Carolina. She had led a very lonely, secluded
life. These were all their facts.
But since Nona was still hesitating Barbara smiled at her, wrinkling up
her small nose in the absurd fashion she had when particularly in
earnest.
"Go on, Nona, tell us at once. Are you a princess in disguise? I am
quite prepared to believe it. To tell you the honest truth, it would not
surprise me half so much as Eugenia's turning into an heiress. Alas,
that I am what I am, a maid without a mystery!"
However, Nona was not in the humor to be diverted by her friend's
nonsense.
"I am sorry my story is not in the least like that. So I am afraid it
won't be of interest to you. Perhaps I am foolish to speak of this,
since I have never, never talked of it to any one before."
Nona's brown eyes were clear and straightforward, although her chin
quivered sensitively.
"I know nothing about my mother," she went on speaking quickly, now that
she had made up her mind to the confidence. "Of course, I remember her
when I was a very little girl in our old house in Charleston. But after
she went away my father would never talk of her nor answer any of my
questions. I do know, however, that she was a great deal younger than
he, and I think she was French and came from New Orleans. There must
have been something strange about my mother or her family; I never could
decide and no one would ever tell me. Even after I grew up and asked
questions of my father's old friends there was always the same silence.
This was one of the reasons why I made up my mind to come away from
Charleston," Nona finished quietly.
She had not been tragic or dramatic in the telling of her story, and yet
neither of her two girl friends knew exactly what to answer.
But since the silence must somehow be broken, Mildred Thornton
murmured, "How very odd; perhaps you are mistaken, Nona!" Then she
realized that she had made an absurd speech.
Barbara was even more visibly embarrassed. "Possibly your mother was a
princess or something!" she ejaculated vaguely. "I always insisted that
you were one of the most aristocratic persons I ever knew, both in your
appearance and manner, Nona," her friend continued, desiring to be
comforting and yet appreciating that her remarks were also rather
ridiculous.
Nona, however, was not to be turned aside in her confession.
"I have only spoken of this because I wanted you girls to know the facts
in my life that are important. Of course, I realize this problem of mine
cannot mean a great deal to you. But it has puzzled me all my life. You
see, I don't even know whether my mother is living or dead. I have
supposed that she was dead, and my father always talked as if she were;
but I really am not sure of even that."
Nona then extended a hand to each of her friends.
"Please let us never speak of this again," she asked. "Of course, I mean
to tell Eugenia, for it was because we were hurt by her lack of
confidence in us that I nerved myself for my confession."
Nona then sat down again as if the entire subject were closed forever.
So, although the other girls had dozens of questions at the tips of
their tongues, they remained politely silent.
In order to conceal her embarrassment Mildred Thornton glanced around to
try to find Eugenia. She discovered that the older girl had at last been
disturbed from her reverie. Indeed, she had risen and was walking toward
the road. For a noise with which they had grown familiar in the past
fifteen months was drawing nearer and nearer. It was the tramping of
soldiers' feet.
But this time there was a sound accompanying it which was even more
disturbing.
The other girls heard the same sound and almost at the same time jumped
up from their seats. They went a few paces forward and then stopped and
stared.
A number of German soldiers were driving a group of Belgian people
before them like so many sheep. There were two old men and two
middle-aged women with several small children.
Running further forward, Barbara slipped her arm inside Eugenia's.
"What does this mean?" she queried, her eyes suddenly blurring with
tears.
Yet she realized that the prisoners had probably been disloyal to their
conquerors. They may have refused to obey the rules imposed by the
German military commander of their district; they may have stolen food,
or been insolent to the soldiers.
Although she appreciated their possible offences, Barbara felt deeply
sympathetic.
For the past year and more she had been witnessing the suffering of the
wounded soldiers in the British and French lines. She had thought that
nothing else could ever touch her so deeply. Yet in the last ten days
she had been stirred in a different way. The soldiers were fighting for
the cause nearest their hearts and enjoyed the enthusiasm and the glory
of the soldier's life. But in Belgium so many of the people appeared
both helpless and hopeless; these were the old men, the women and the
children.
Barbara was thinking of this now as she watched the pitiful little
company before her. She had not even noticed that Eugenia had made her
no answer. Now she was startled because the older girl had broken loose
from her and was stalking out into the road.
Barbara was next amazed to see Eugenia deliberately plant herself in
front of the German officer in command.
She spoke excellent German, knowing more of the language than any one of
the four Red Cross girls. Now Barbara could only guess what Eugenia was
saying. But whatever it was, the German sergeant had stopped and was
apparently listening respectfully. There must have been something
impressive in her voice and manner.
Three minutes afterwards the other three girls were the more surprised
to observe Eugenia returning toward them. Because in her arms she was
carrying a tiny, black-eyed baby, while a small boy and a small girl
clung to either side of her skirt. The boy was about nine or ten years
old and was lame.
"Why, what does this mean, Eugenia?" Nona demanded, dropping on her
knees to take the boy's small, cold hand in her own warm one. But the
boy seemed to prefer Eugenia, for he crept closer to her.
"Oh, it was nothing of any importance," Eugenia began explaining
quietly. "The sergeant told me he had orders to take the men and women
into Brussels. They are suspected of something or other and are to be
put into prison. He said he had brought the children along because there
was nothing else to do with them, so I offered to look after them."
"But, but," Mildred Thornton faltered. "I know it is a painful
situation, Eugenia dear, but what _can_ you do with three babies? Our
house is already so full----"
Eugenia nodded. "Yes, I understand, but I have already decided what to
do. I'll stay here in the little one-room house with the children
tonight. I looked it over the other day. There isn't any furniture, but
we must manage for the night. You girls bring me over whatever covers
you can spare and ask Nicolete to bring all the food she can get hold
of."
"But you don't mean to stay here alone with these children in this
perfectly forsaken place," Barbara expostulated, dimly conscious that
Eugenia was becoming more of a puzzle than ever. Do old maids now and
then represent the real mother spirit? "I'll stay with you, Eugenia,"
she added faintly, not altogether enjoying the prospect.
But the older girl shook her head. "You have your own work to do, Bab.
Only one of us can be spared. What possible danger could come to these
little kiddies and me?"
Looking backward a few moments later, the three girls discovered that
Eugenia and the children had already disappeared inside the little
house.