JANE'S LOVE AFFAIR
The battle raged; the German hordes pushed forward; the great retreat
began. Paris seemed about to fall and there was anxiety in the Allied
forces. Prodigies of valor were chronicled in a few lines of space;
the British army, greatly outnumbered, was holding the enemy. The
advance was slow, a wonderful retreat, perhaps the most heroic known
until almost equaled by the Russians later on.
Then came the news that the enemy was checked, they in turn were driven
back when Paris seemed within their grasp. The Germans were held and
the situation saved. It was marvelous, and the "little army," under
Sir John French was covered in glory. Britain thrilled at the news of
her soldiers' bravery. They fought as of old, fought as at Waterloo,
at Inkerman, at the Alma, and Balaklava. They had not degenerated, the
same spirit animated them; they knew how to die, and how to win. For
forty years the Germans had been trained for war, and their masses were
held up by men who had known peace for many years.
The Sherwoods had their chance and took it. The Uhlans were no match
for them; they were bowled over like ninepins. Men and horses fell in
heaps before the terrible charge. Captain Chesney was in the thick of
it all. Rash, brave, knowing no danger, he was a typical cavalry
officer; and that master of cavalry tactics, Sir John French, heard of
his bravery and recognized it. After their first action Alan Chesney
was the idol of the Sherwoods. The men followed him into the jaws of
death and cheered as he led them on. Nothing could stand before them,
their impetuosity overcame all obstacles; they lost many men but gained
imperishable renown.
Eve Berkeley read the meager accounts of the fighting and grew
impatient, longing for more, wondering why publicity was not given to
the doings of the bravest of the brave. Alan's name cropped up once or
twice, she gathered from the vague lines that he had done wonders, that
his bravery was conspicuous, that his men loved him, and she was proud
of him.
Week after week passed and she only had one or two lines from him.
There was no time to write long letters, she must wait until he was out
of the saddle for an hour or two. She knew how difficult it must be to
write, yet longed to hear, and each morning looked for a letter. When
it did not come she scanned the papers in fear and trembling. She
little knew the narrow escapes he had already experienced, and he came
out of terrible frays with hardly a scratch. When horses were shot
under him a trooper was always ready with another for him with a "take
mine, sir." Alan reveled in the fury of the charge; his whole body
thrilled as he galloped down on the Uhlans at headlong speed. This was
soldiering indeed; no playing; deadly, grim earnest, a toss-up for life
or death. He grieved at the loss of men, but the fewer in number the
more they were united and proved irresistible. During the retreat they
were here and there and everywhere, scouting, thwarting the enemy,
breaking up his plans, a thorn in his side pricking deep. Seldom out
of the saddle, he had little time to think of home and Eve Berkeley.
At Trent Park things went on much as usual. Eve went over
occasionally; her visits were in no way resented, everything was made
smooth for her.
At the stud she was always welcome. Sam Kerridge appreciated her at
her full worth; said she knew more about horses than half the men he
met, that she had an eye for a good 'un, and could fault the inferior
sort.
"Blest if I couldn't leave her in charge for a month without the
slightest fear of anything going wrong," he said.
Alfonso had taken the place of Mameluke, and there seemed every chance
of his being as popular with owners of mares, but the shadow of war
over the land was likely to have some effect on the big studs. Already
there was talk of cutting down expenses and selling off.
Carl Meason still had his rooms at the Sherwood Inn and Abel Head
wondered if he were right in his surmise that he was a spy. He argued
that a spy would hardly bury himself at Little Trent in war time;
still, there was no telling. Meason went out in his motor at night
more than usual; moreover he carried a very powerful light and there
was an unusually strong one inside the car.
"What's this for?" asked Abel as he examined it.
"The police are very particular about lights, so I've got this ready in
case one of the others goes out," was the reply.
"Must give a powerful glare," commented Abel.
"It does. Nothing like seeing far enough ahead," said Carl.
Abel was not satisfied. He had never seen such big lamps inside a car
before and he did not believe Meason's reason for having it. Although
he had plenty on hand Carl Meason found time to meet Jane Thrush.
After much persuasion he induced her to go in his car to Nottingham to
see the sights, and strange to say Tom raised no objections. Thrush
seemed favorably impressed with Meason; no doubt an occasional fiver
helped in this direction, for Tom was fond of money.
"Where's the harm?" he said to himself. "Jane's a clever girl, knows
more than the ordinary, and she's good enough for any man. He seems
sweet on her. No reason why he should not marry her. There's money,
not a doubt or he couldn't sling fivers about like he does."
All the same he questioned Jane closely after her return from
Nottingham; but she was reticent. Not given to talking much himself he
did not pay so much notice to this as he might otherwise have done.
Carl Meason was a man to attract a girl like Jane Thrush. He could be
agreeable when he chose; his face concealed his real feelings--it was a
mask and effectually changed the man to outward appearances. Meason
was making the mistake of his life. He was fast becoming infatuated
with Jane Thrush, subordinating certain objects to her, spending time
in her company. The work he had in hand brooked no interference. It
was sufficiently dangerous; there must be no leakage. Not a hint or a
whisper must get about or he would be in grave danger on both sides.
His employers were ruthless, and the authorities in England would not
be likely to spare even his life if they got wind of his purpose and
how he was working.
Jane Thrush held him in the hollow of her hand did she but know it. At
present she was too innocent to suspect his real nature and she never
dreamed what he was about. She would not have understood his affairs
had they been explained to her. Jane merely saw in him a well-to-do
man, who talked to her with respect, and was evidently more than half
in love with her. She was not conceited although she had a proper
sense of her importance and good looks, which was fostered by her
father.
During the drive to Nottingham and back Carl Meason made love to her in
ardent fashion and she had not repulsed him although she was careful to
keep him within bounds. One thing Tom Thrush had effectually taught
his daughter and that was the perils to which pretty girls are exposed.
He had made no bones about it, spoke out plainly, and Jane learned the
lesson well.
"Her's got no mother," Tom said to himself, "and it's my place to warn
her. She'd best know what's what and then she can't stumble with her
eyes open," and in his rough way he saw farther than people who avoided
responsibilities in this direction.
Jane was therefore well armed against the wiles of unprincipled men,
although it had hitherto been her good fortune not to encounter any.
There had been kisses and embraces and Jane accepted them without much
enthusiasm or response. Carl Meason's lovemaking left her cold;
somehow she hardly thought it real. She did not tell Tom of these
embraces and he forebore to push inquiries. His occupation made him
suspicious and watchful; he was the terror of poachers and evil-doers
among the game, and had tracked many notorious men down. Although he
loved money he surmised that Carl Meason's occasional fivers were not
given for nothing, they were to smooth the way for Jane's favor.
If the man meant well by his daughter there was no harm done; if ill,
then he would settle with him in a way that would astonish before any
damage was done.
Carl Meason quickly discovered he would have to play straight with Jane
Thrush, also her father, and for once in a way he was inclined to do
this; it was after all the easiest to get what he wanted.
So far he had never given much thought to taking a wife, but when he
considered everything, turning the pros and cons over, he came to the
conclusion Jane Thrush was worth some sort of sacrifice. He would not
surrender any of his liberty, once she was his he would mold her to his
will; he fancied this would be easy--he was mistaken, as better men
have been.
It was a relief from his work to talk and make love to Jane, also to
think about her at night when touring round the country in his motor.
There were other things to think about, and sometimes he dreaded what
might happen when the time came for the devilish engines of destruction
to work. Carl valued human life little, except in the care of his own
body, and had been instrumental in sending many to death. He knew
there were thousands of Germans in the country; they had been spying
out the land for years, and he wondered at the supineness of the
authorities in allowing it. He cared little who won the war so long as
he reaped his reward. He would have been willing to accept pay from
both sides had it been feasible.
If he had a better side to his nature Jane Thrush seemed likely to find
it, but even she would have to walk warily if in his power. Jane's
pretty face had won a sort of victory over him; he acknowledged his
submission with a wry grimace, thinking she would be called upon to
submit in her turn.
Meanwhile Jane hesitated as to what she would do if he asked her to be
his wife, as she believed he would. To solve her doubts, she asked her
father. Tom eyed her curiously; he was sleepy and barely grasped her
question.
"What did yer say, lass?" he asked.
"If Mr. Meason asks me to be his wife what answer shall I give him?"
Tom was awake now. This was important.
"He'll ask, you reckon?"
"I believe he will."
"Then please yourself, lass. He's a well-favored man, seems well off,
he'd make a good husband," said Tom.
"Perhaps he would," said Jane doubtfully.