"Yes. He's again wounded and in hospital."
"Oh-h, terrible! tha'z to you good news?"
"Yes. Look, monsieur; he has, at the front, the chance to be hit so
many times. If he's hit and only wounded his chances to be hit again
are made one less, eh? And while he's in hospital they are again two
or three less. Shall we not be glad for that? And moreover, how he
got his wound, that is better. He got that taking, by himself, nine
Boches! And still the best news is what he writes about his friend
Castanado."
"Ah, Mélanie! And you hold that back till now? And you know we are
without news of him sinze a month! He's promote'? He's decorate'?"
"He's found a treasure. I think maybe you'll get his letter to-morrow.
Me, I got mine soon; passing the post-office I went in and asked."
"But how, he found a treasure? and what sort?"
"He just happened to dig it up, in a cellar, in Rheims. He's
betrothed.'
"Mélanie! What are you saying?"
"What he says. And that's all he says. I hope you'll hear all about
that to-morrow."
"Oh, any'ow tha'z the bes' of news!" Castanado said, kissing his wife's
hand and each temple. "Doubtlezz he's find some lovely orphan of that
hideouz war; we can trus' his good sense, our son. But, Mélanie, he
muz' have been sick, away from the front, to make that courtship."
"I do not know. Everything happens terribly fast these days. I hope
you'll hear all about that to-morrow."
Castanado playfully lifted a finger: "Mélanie, how is that, you pass
that poss-office, when it is up-town, while you--?" The question hung
unfinished--maybe because Mélanie turned so red, maybe because the
door-bell rang again.
Enlivened by the high art they had been enjoying and by the fresh night
air, a full half-dozen came in: M. and Mme. De l'Isle, whom the others
had chanced upon as they left the theatre; Dubroca and his wife; Mme.
Alexandre; and finally Beloiseau. "Mélanie!" was the cry of each of
these as he or she turned from saluting madame; this was one of
madame's largest joys; to get early report from larger or smaller
fractions of the coterie, on the good things they had seen or heard,
from which her muchness otherwise debarred her. The De l'Isles,
however, were not such a matter of course as the others, and Mme. De
l'Isle, as she greeted Mme. Castanado, said, in an atmosphere that
trembled with its load of mingled French and English:
"We got something to show you!"
In the same atmosphere--"And how got you away from yo' patient?" Mme.
Alexandre asked her daughter as they embraced a second time.
"I tore myself," said Mélanie, while Castanado, to all the rest, was
saying:
"And such great news as Mél'----"
But a sharp glance from Mélanie checked him. "Such great news as we
have receive'! Our son is bethroath'!--to a good, dizcreet, beautiful
French girl; which he _foun_', in a cellar at Rheims!" When a
drum-fire of questions fell on him he grew reticent and answered
quietly: "We have only that by firz' letter. Full particular' pretty
soon, perchanze to-morrow."
"Then to-morrow we'll come hear ab-out it," Beloiseau said, "and tell
ab-out the movie. Mme. De l'Isle she's also got fine news, what she
cann' tell biffo' biccause"--he waved to Mme. De l'Isle to say why, but
her husband spoke for her.
"Biccause," he said, "'tis all in a pigture, war pigture, on a New York
Sunday paper, and of co'se we coul'n' stop under street lamp for that;
and with yo' permission"--to Mme. Castanado--"we'll show that firz' of
all to Scipion."
Beloiseau put on glasses and looked. "'General Joffre--'" he began to
read.
"No, no! not that! This one, where you know the _général_ only by the
back of his head."
"Ah--ah, yes; 'Two _aviateur_' riceiving from General Joffre'--my God!
De l'Isle--my God! madame,"--Scipion pounded his breast with the
paper--"they are yo' son and mine!"
The company rushed to his elbows. "My faith! Castanado, there are
their name'! and 'For destrugtion of their eighteenth enemy aeroplane,
under circumstance' calling for exceptional coolnezz and intrepid-ity!'"
There was great and general rejoicing and some quite pardonable
boasting, under cover of which Mélanie and her mother slipped out by
the inside way, without mention of the young Dubroca, his prisoners,
sickness, or letter, except to his father and mother, who told of him
more openly when the Alexandres were safely gone. That brought fresh
gladness and praise, a fair share of which was for Mélanie.
So presently the remaining company vanished, leaving Mme. Castanado
free to embrace her kneeling husband and boast again the power of
prayer.