BEARING THE BURDEN
It was dusk before Ruth Fielding arrived at the Clair Hospital after
her exciting call at the Chateau Marchand. She had refused to allow
Major Marchand to accompany her to the village, for she learned he must
be off for the front lines later in the evening, and would in any case
have but a few hours with his mother.
Ruth had conceived a plan.
She had been in serious conference with Major Marchand and the
countess. Neither, of course, knew the particulars of Tom Cameron's
arrest at Merz, beyond the German lines. However, they sympathized
with her and applauded her desire to help Tom.
For there was a chance for Ruth to aid the young American lieutenant.
The major admitted it, and the countess admired Ruth's courage in
suggesting it.
The brief announcement of Tom's arrest sent by Count Marchand by Bubu,
the greyhound, together with facts that the major knew, aided Ruth in
gaining a pretty clear understanding of Tom Cameron's situation.
He had volunteered for this dangerous service and had been assigned to
work with the French secret agents on both sides of the battle line.
After his own comrades' suspicion was fixed on him, it was decided, Tom
agreeing, that he would be able to do better work in Germany. Major
Marchand had himself guided the American lieutenant to Merz, and
introduced him to Count Allaire Marchand.
"And we both consider him, Mademoiselle," said the major generously, "a
most promising recruit. We arranged for him to enter Merz in the guise
of a wealthy Bavarian Hauptman on leave. Merz, you must understand,
was quite a famous health resort before the war. Many foreigners, as
well as Germans, went there to drink the waters. That is why we had a
summer estate on the outskirts of Merz."
In addition, the major told of Tom's early successes in getting
acquainted with the chief men of the town--particularly with the gouty
old Prussian general, who was the military governor of the district.
Information which Tom had gained, the major whispered, had spurred the
American authorities in this sector to remove the civilian population
for several miles back of the trenches.
There was soon to be a "surprise" attack upon the Americans, and the
huge guns being brought up for the bombardment before the infantry
advance might utterly wreck the open country immediately back of the
American trenches.
Tom Cameron, posing as Captain Von Brenner, was apparently awaiting at
Merz's best hotel the appearance of his sister, who, he declared, would
join him before the conclusion of his furlough. At first the old
general and the other authorities had accepted the American at his face
value.
Somehow, suspicion must have been aroused within the last twenty-four
hours. The message that had come by Bubu stated that Tom was under
arrest as a suspicious person, but that he was detained only in the
general's quarters.
It was something that might blow over. Finesse was required. Ruth had
suggested a plan, which, although applauded by the major and his
mother, they could not advise her to carry out. For, if it failed, her
own peril would be as great as Tom Cameron's. In fact, the result of
failure would be that both of them would be shot!
But the American girl was inspired for the task. So, urged by the
countess, her son had agreed to assist Ruth in an attempt which he
could but approve. Had Count Allaire Marchand, or any of his French
operatives in and near Merz, attempted to assist in Tom Cameron's
escape out of Germany, they would merely lay themselves open to
suspicion, and possibly to arrest.
Ruth saw a code message written to the count, who was hiding on what
had been the Marchand estate before the war, and then saw Bubu called
into the library and the twist of oiled paper secreted in the dog's
mouth. When the greyhound was released for his return journey to Merz,
Ruth, likewise, left the chateau. A short time later, as has been
said, she arrived safely at the hospital in the village.
Just as she was about to enter the gateway, a heavy touring car rumbled
up the road from the south. It stopped before the hospital gate.
There was a uniformed officer on the seat beside the chauffeur; but the
only occupants of the tonneau were two women.
"We wish to see Miss Fielding," said one of these women, rising and
speaking hastily to the sentinel who had presented arms before the
gateway.
"I shall have to call somebody from inside, Mademoiselle," said the old
territorial who was on guard duty. "There is such a name here, I
believe."
"Never mind calling anybody!" Ruth suddenly exclaimed, springing
forward. "Miss Fielding is here to answer the call. Will you girls
tell me what under the sun you have come here for? I thought you would
know enough to remain safely in Paris!"
"Ruthie!" shrieked Helen Cameron, fairly throwing herself from the
automobile into Ruth's arms. "It is she! It is her! It is her
owniest, owniest self!"
"Hold on," said the second occupant of the automobile tonneau,
alighting more heavily. "Leave a bit for me to fall on, Nell."
"Don't you dare, Heavy Stone!" cried Ruth. "If you fell upon my
frailness----"
"Hush! Tell it not in Gath," cried Jennie sepulchrally. "I have lost
flesh--positively."
"Yes," agreed Helen, quite dramatically. "She barked her knuckle.
Every little bit counts with Heavy, you know."
Ruth welcomed the plump girl quite as warmly as she did her own
particular chum. Immediately the military automobile rolled away. The
visitors both carried handbags.
"How did you come to get here--and where under the sun will you stay?"
Ruth demanded again.
"Now, never mind worrying about us, Martha," Jennie Stone returned.
"We will get along very well. Isn't there a hotel?"
"A hotel? In Clair?" gasped the girl of the Red Mill.
"I--should--say--not!"
"Very well, dear; we'll put up wherever you say," said Helen airily.
"We know you are always a favorite wherever you go, and you must have
loads of friends here by this time."
"The unqualified nerve of you!" gasped Ruth. "But come in. I'll speak
to _Madame la Directrice_ and see what can be done. But how did you
ever get permission to come here?" she repeated.
"It is our furlough. We have earned it. Haven't _you_ earned a
furlough yet?" Helen demanded, making big eyes at her chum.
"It never crossed my mind to ask for one," admitted the girl of the Red
Mill. "But merely your having a furlough would not have won you a
visit so near the front."
"Really?" asked Jennie. "Do you mean to say this _is_ near the battle
line?"
"You'd think so at times," returned Ruth. "But answer me! How did you
get your passports viséed for such a distance from Paris?"
"Forget not," said Jennie, "that Mr. Cameron was over here on
Government business. Helen can do almost anything she likes with these
French officials."
"Humph!" was all that came from Ruth in answer to this.
"You don't seem glad to see us at all, Ruthie Fielding!" cried Helen,
as they crossed the courtyard and mounted the steps to the hospital.
But Ruth was frankly considering how she could make the best use of her
two college chums, now that they were here. In less than twenty-four
hours she expected to leave Clair for an extended absence. She had
been troubled regarding her duty to the Red Cross.
Circumstances had played into her hands. She could trust Helen and
Jennie to do her work here at the Clair Hospital while she was absent.
She found the matron and took her aside before introducing her to the
newcomers. She did not explain her reason for wishing to absent
herself from duty for some days, nor did the tactful Frenchwoman ask
after she was told that the Countess Marchand approved. But she told
the matron about her two girl friends who had arrived so unexpectedly.
"They are good girls, and capable girls, and I can show them very
briefly my ordinary duties, Madame."
"It is well, Mademoiselle Fielding," the woman said with cordiality.
"Let me now greet your friends."
So Helen and Jennie were introduced, and the matron said she would find
two rooms in the nurses' quarters for the visitors. But first the
three girls must go to Ruth's little cell and have tea while they
talked.
"First of all," Helen began. "How is Tommy-boy?"
"He is perfectly well as far as I know," Ruth said gravely.
"Goodness! You are not _mad_ with him?"
"Of course not. How silly," her chum returned.
"Well, but don't you see him every day or two?"
Ruth Fielding stared at her chum, not alone with gravity, but with
scorn.
"I think it is well you have come up here to visit," she said. "Don't
you know yet that we are in this war, Helen Cameron?"
"I don't know what you mean," returned Helen, pouting. "If we were not
at war with Germany, do you think I would be away from Ardmore College
at this time of year?"
"Tom is on active service," Ruth said quietly. "I am rather busily
engaged myself. I have seen him just twice since I have been at Clair.
But I happened to learn to-day that--beyond peradventure--he is in
health."
"That's good enough!" exclaimed Helen. "And I suppose you can get word
to him so he'll know Jennie and I are here?"
"I will try to get word to him," agreed Ruth soberly.
"He can ask off and come to see us, can't he?"
"Not being in military charge of this sector, I cannot tell you," the
girl of the Red Mill said dryly. "But if you remain here long enough I
hope Tom will come to see you, my dear."
She could tell them no more. Indeed, to-night she did not even wish
the girls to know that she proposed absenting herself from the hospital
for a time and expected Helen and Jennie to do her work.
She had a burden to shoulder that she could not share with her friends.
She sent them to their beds a little later to sleep confidently and
happily after their long journey from Paris.
As for Ruth Fielding, she scarcely closed her eyes that night.