the lost road-第91部分

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the　eyes　of　Anfossi　were　turned　toward　her。　　His　face　was　expressionless。
His　eyes　neither　accused　nor　reproached。　　And　with　the　joy　of　one　who
has　looked　upon　and　then　escaped　the　guillotine；　Marie　ran　down　the
steps　to　the　waiting　automobile。　　With　a　pretty　cry　of　pleasure　she　leaped
into　the　seat　beside　Thierry。　　Gayly　she　threw　out　her　arms。　　〃To　Paris！〃
she　commanded。　　The　handsome　eyes　of　Thierry；　eloquent　with
admiration；　looked　back　into　hers。　　He　stooped；　threw　in　the　clutch；
and　the　great　gray　car；　with　the　machine　gun　and　its　crew　of　privates
guarding　the　rear；　plunged　through　the　park。

〃To　Paris！〃　echoed　Thierry。

In　the　order　in　which　Marie　had　last　seen　them；　Anfossi　and　the
staff　officer　entered　the　room　of　General　Andre；　and　upon　the
soldiers　in　the　hall　the　door　was　shut。　　The　face　of　the　staff
officer　was　grave；　but　his　voice　could　not　conceal　his　elation。

〃My　general；〃　he　reported；　〃I　found　this　man　in　the　act　of　giving
information　to　the　enemy。　　There　is　a　wireless…〃

General　Andre　rose　slowly。　　He　looked　neither　at　the　officer　nor
at　his　prisoner。　　With　frowning　eyes　he　stared　down　at　the　maps
upon　his　table。

〃I　know；〃　he　interrupted。　　〃Some　one　has　already　told　me。〃　　He
paused；　and　then；　as　though　recalling　his　manners；　but　still
without　raising　his　eyes；　he　added：　〃You　have　done　well；　sir。〃

In　silence　the　officers　of　the　staff　stood　motionless。　　With　surprise
they　noted　that；　as　yet；　neither　in　anger　nor　curiosity　had　General
Andre　glanced　at　the　prisoner。　　But　of　the　presence　of　the　general
the　spy　was　most　acutely　conscious。　　He　stood　erect；　his　arms　still
raised；　but　his　body　strained　forward；　and　on　the　averted　eyes　of　the
general　his　own　were　fixed。

In　an　agony　of　supplication　they　asked　a　question。

At　last；　as　though　against　his　wish；　toward　the　spy　the　general
turned　his　head；　and　their　eyes　met。　　And　still　General　Andre　was
silent。　　Then　the　arms　of　the　spy；　like　those　of　a　runner　who　has
finished　his　race　and　breasts　the　tape　exhausted；　fell　to　his　sides。
In　a　voice　low　and　vibrant　he　spoke　his　question。

〃It　has　been　so　long；　sir；〃　he　pleaded。　　〃May　I　not　come　home？〃

General　Andre　turned　to　the　astonished　group　surrounding　him。　　His
voice　was　hushed　like　that　of　one　who　speaks　across　an　open　grave。

〃Gentlemen；〃　he　began；　〃my　children；〃　he　added。　　〃A　German　spy；　a
woman；　involved　in　a　scandal　your　brother　in　arms；　Henri　Ravignac。
His　honor；　he　thought；　was　concerned；　and　without　honor　he　refused
to　live。　　To　prove　him　guiltless　his　younger　brother　Charles　asked
leave　to　seek　out　the　woman　who　had　betrayed　Henri；　and　by　us　was
detailed　on　secret　service。　　He　gave　up　home；　family；　friends。　　He　lived
in　exile；　in　poverty；　at　all　times　in　danger　of　a　swift　and　ignoble　death。
In　the　War　Office　we　know　him　as　one　who　has　given　to　his　country
services　she　cannot　hope　to　reward。　　For　she　cannot　return　to　him　the
years　he　has　lost。　　She　cannot　return　to　him　his　brother。　　But　she　can
and　will　clear　the　name　of　Henri　Ravignac；　and　upon　his　brother
Charles　bestow　promotion　and　honors。〃

The　general　turned　and　embraced　the　spy。　　〃My　children；〃　he　said；
〃welcome　your　brother。　　He　has　come　home。〃

Before　the　car　had　reached　the　fortifications；　Marie　Gessler　had
arranged　her　plan　of　escape。　　She　had　departed　from　the　chateau
without　even　a　hand…bag；　and　she　would　say　that　before　the　shops
closed　she　must　make　purchases。

Le　Printemps　lay　in　their　way；　and　she　asked　that；　when　they
reached　it；　for　a　moment　she　might　alight。　　Captain　Thierry
readily　gave　permission。

From　the　department　store　it　would　be　most　easy　to　disappear；
and　in　anticipation　Marie　smiled　covertly。　　Nor　was　the　picture
of　Captain　Thierry　impatiently　waiting　outside　unamusing。

But　before　Le　Printemps　was　approached；　the　car　turned　sharply
down　a　narrow　street。　　On　one　side；　along　its　entire　length；　ran　a
high　gray　wall；　grim　and　forbidding。　　In　it　was　a　green　gate　studded
with　iron　bolts。　　Before　this　the　automobile　drew　suddenly　to　a　halt。
The　crew　of　the　armored　car　tumbled　off　the　rear　seat；　and　one　of
them　beat　upon　the　green　gate。　　Marie　felt　a　hand　of　ice　clutch　at　her
throat。　　But　she　controlled　herself。

〃And　what　is　this？〃　she　cried　gayly。

At　her　side　Captain　Thierry　was　smiling　down　at　her；　but　his
smile　was　hateful。

〃It　is　the　prison　of　St。　Lazare；〃　he　said。　　〃It　is　not　becoming；〃
he　added　sternly；　〃that　the　name　of　the　Countess　d'Aurillac
should　be　made　common　as　the　Paris　road！〃

Fighting　for　her　life；　Marie　thrust　herself　against　him；　her
arm　that　throughout　the　journey　had　rested　on　the　back　of　the
driving…seat　caressed　his　shoulders；　her　lips　and　the　violet　eyes
were　close　to　his。

〃Why　should　you　care？〃　she　whispered　fiercely。　　〃You　have　me！　Let
the　Count　d'Aurillac　look　after　the　honor　of　his　wife　himself。〃

The　charming　Thierry　laughed　at　her　mockingly。

〃He　means　to；〃　he　said。　　〃I　am　the　Count　d'Aurillac！〃



THE　DESERTER

In　Salonika；　the　American　consul；　the　Standard　Oil　man；　and
the　war　correspondents　formed　the　American　colony。　　The
correspondents　were　waiting　to　go　to　the　front。　　Incidentally；
as　we　waited；　the　front　was　coming　rapidly　toward　us。　　There
was　〃Uncle〃　Jim；　the　veteran　of　many　wars；　and　of　all　the
correspondents；　in　experience　the　oldest　and　in　spirit　the
youngest；　and　there　was　the　Kid；　and　the　Artist。　　The　Kid
jeered　at　us；　and　proudly　described　himself　as　the　only　Boy
Reporter　who　jumped　from　a　City　Hall　assignment　to　cover　a
European　War。　　〃I　don't　know　strategy；〃　he　would　boast；　〃neither
does　the　Man　at　Home。　　He　wants　'human　interest'　stuff；　and　I　give
him　what　he　wants。　　I　write　exclusively　for　the　subway　guard　and
the　farmers　in　the　wheat　belt。　　When　you　fellows　write　about　the
'Situation；'　they　don't　understand　it。　　Neither　do　you。　　Neither　does
Venizelos　or　the　King。　　I　don't　understand　it　myself。　　So；　I　write　my
people　heart…to…heart　talks　about　refugees　and　wounded；　and　what
kind　of　ploughs　the　Servian　peasants　use；　and　that　St。　Paul　wrote
his　letters　to　the　Thessalonians　from　the　same　hotel　where　I　write
mine；　and　I　tell　'em　to　pronounce　Salonika　'eeka；'　and　not　put
the　accent　on　the　'on。'　　This　morning　at　the　refugee　camp　I　found
all　the　little　Servians　of　the　Frothingham　unit　in　American　Boy
Scout　uniforms。　　That's　my　meat。　　That's　'home　week'　stuff。　　You
fellows　write　for　the　editorial　page；　and　nobody　reads　it。　　I　write
for　the　man　that　turns　first　to　Mutt　and　Jeff；　and　then　looks　to　see
where　they　are　running　the　new　Charlie　Chaplin　release。　　When
that　man　has　to　choose　between　'our　military　correspondent'　and
the　City　Hall　Reporter；　he　chooses　me！〃

The　third　man　was　John；　〃Our　Special　Artist。〃　　John　could　write
a　news　story；　too；　but　it　was　the　cartoons　that　had　made　him
famous。　　They　were　not　comic　page；　but　front　page　cartoons；　and
before　making　up　their　minds　what　they　thought；　people　waited　to
see　what　their　Artist　thought。　　So；　it　was　fortunate　his　thoughts
were　as　brave　and　clean　as　they　were　clever。　　He　was　the　original
Little　Brother　to　the　Poor。　　He　was　always　giving　away　money。
When　we　caught　him；　he　would　prevaricate。　He　would　say　the　man
was　a　college　chum；　that　he　had　borrowed　the　money　from　him；
and　that　this　was　the　first　chance　he　had　had　to　pay　it　back。　　The　Kid
suggested　it　was　strange　that　so　many　of　his　college　chums　should
at　the　same　moment　turn　up；　dead　broke；　in　Salonika；　and　that
half　of　them　should　be　women。

John　smiled　disarmingly。　　〃It　was　a　large　college；〃　he　explained；
〃and　coeducational。〃　　There　were　other　Americans；　Red　Cross
doctors　and　nurses　just　escaped　through　the　snow　from　the
Bulgars；　and　hyphenated　Americans　who　said　they　had　taken
out　their　first　papers。　　They　thought　hyphenated　citizens　were
so　popular　with　us；　that　we　would　pay　their　passage　to　New　York。
In　Salonika　they　were　transients。　　They　had　no　local　standing。　　They
had　no　local　lying…down　place；　either；　or　place　to　eat；　or　to　wash；
although　they　did　not　look　as　though　that　worried　them；　or　place
to　change　their　clothes。　　Or　clothes　to　change。　　It　was　because　we
had　clothes　to　change；　and　a　hotel　bedroom；　instead　of　a　bench　in
a　cafe；　that　we　were　ranked　as　residents　and　from　the　Greek　police
held　a　〃permission　to　sojourn。〃　　Our　American　colony　was　a　very
close　corporation。　　We　were　only　six　Americans　against　300；000
British；　French；　Greek；　and　Servian　soldiers；　and　120；000　civilian
Turks；　Spanish　Jews；　Armenians；　Persians；　Egyptians；　Albanians；
and　Arabs；　and　some　twenty　more　other　races　that　are　not　listed。
We　had　arrived　in　Salonika　before　the　rush；　and　at　the　Hotel　Hermes
on　the　water…front　had　secured　a　vast　room。　　The　edge　of　the　stone
quay　was　not　forty　feet　from　us；　the　only　landing　steps　directly
opposite　our　balcony。　　Everybody　who　arrived　on　the　Greek
passenger　boats　from　Naples　or　the　Piraeus；　or　who　had　shore
leave　from　a　man…of…war；　transport；　or　hospital　ship；　was　raked
by　our　cameras。　　There　were　four　windowsone　for　each　of　us
and　his　work　table。　　It　was　not　easy　to　work。　　What　was　the　use？
The　pictures　and　stories　outside　the　windows　fascinated　us；　but
when　we　sketched　them　or　wrote　about　them；　t