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CHAPTER III
The Retreat
“As soon as we finish breakfast I think it wiser that you girls make your arrangements to start on toward Paris at once.”
In the old kitchen of the French château the Camp Fire girls were seated about an ancient oak table, eating as quietly as if nothing had occurred to disturb them in the night.
The noise of the firing, which had interrupted Mrs. Burton’s and Yvonne’s conversation, had not lasted long, and no one knew from what source it had come, whether the Germans were making a surprise attack nearby, or the allied troops repulsing one.
At dawn, hearing a knocking at the kitchen door, Mrs. Burton had admitted an old French peasant woman and her small grandson. At present they were having their breakfast of coffee and bread in a corner of the big kitchen, having preferred not to sit at the table. With them they had brought the news that the Germans had endeavored to cross the river about ten miles from the Château Yvonne, but had been driven back. Also they reported that the roads were becoming constantly more crowded with refugees, and as soon as they had a little food and rest they wished to journey on.
Following her demand, a little to the Camp Fire guardian’s surprise, no dissenting voice greeted her.
Instead Alice Ashton replied immediately:
“I entirely agree with you, Tante. The sooner all of you make the effort to reach Paris the better under the present conditions. I am afraid your strength will not hold out if you continue waiting much longer in this uncertainty. You understand that I cannot go with you. I must stay here until Sally arrives with Aunt Patricia, if they ever do arrive. Sally is younger than I am and not able to take care of herself in an emergency, so that if anything happened to her I should always feel responsible. I see now that to have allowed her to remain behind with Aunt Patricia and Vera was madness, and yet no one could have anticipated the turn events have recently taken. Still, in coming to France during war times each one of us understood the possibility of danger. During our work at our farmhouse on the Aisne we had a much quieter experience than any of us anticipated!”
Alice’s speech had made an impression upon her small audience, notwithstanding, Mrs. Burton shook her head.
“Sorry I can agree with only a part of what you have just said, Alice. You must go on to Paris with the other girls. I will stay on here to wait for Aunt Patricia, Sally and Vera. I shall be in no especial danger, unless the fighting actually reaches this château, which I doubt. But with you girls here with me the situation would be utterly different. Never so long as I live would I wish to face a member of your families. I know now that I should never have brought you with me to France until the war was actually ended! Personally I shall prefer staying on here for a few days to rest.”
Mrs. Burton now turned directly to Yvonne Fleury.
“Yvonne, I have not forgotten what you told me last night, nevertheless, you must go on to Paris. Remember the other girls need you to act as their guide, as you alone know the roads in this part of the country. It may be that after you have motored some of the way you may be able to board a train, so that you will reach Paris more quickly. I don’t know, I must leave details of the journey to your judgment. Some day, Mary Gilchrist, I intend writing your father what his gift of a motor to you has meant to us here in France.
“Also I think he need no longer regret having had no son to send to France; no one could have accomplished more useful work than you in these past few months, or handled a car more successfully.”
As she finished her suggestions, which she had made as casual and matter of fact as possible, Mrs. Burton half rose from the tall wooden stool, which was serving as her resting place, only to be drawn back again by Peggy Webster, who laid a firm hold on her.
“Don’t talk nonsense, Tante!” Peggy remarked coolly, although not with marked respect. “You know I would just as soon march out boldly and alone to meet the advancing German army as to leave you here in the château by yourself to await Miss Patricia’s coming. As a matter of fact all of us realize she may never reach here. There is no use avoiding the truth that there is every possibility the road may be cut off. Besides, you speak of the impossibility of your facing our families if misfortune should overtake one of us. Please think of the situation for me if I should some day have to confess to my mother that I had left you alone and ill, utterly deserted by all of us, to meet whatever may come. You are not well enough to be alone even under ordinary circumstances.”
Peggy Webster possessed certain obstinate characteristics of her father. Many years before when they were both young, Mrs. Burton and Mr. Webster had known each other intimately and been eternally at war.
Therefore, Mrs. Burton was secretly a little amused and a little annoyed at this moment by the firmness of Peggy’s crimson lips, the single frowning line that appeared between her dark level brows. Moreover, she knew that at present she had neither strength nor time for argument with her niece.
“We must either decide it is wisest for us all to leave here for Paris, or all to remain here,” Bettina Graham added at this instant. “Certainly, Tante, no one of us will consider going on without you, or even leaving just one of us here to face the situation with you. It is my opinion that the way to meet the present difficulty is to meet it together. Our chief trouble now is, not so much our own danger, as our uncertainty and worry over Aunt Patricia, Vera and Sally. It seems to me our original mistake was ever to have separated; either we should have waited with them at the farmhouse until we could have started off together, or insisted they come here to the château with us.”
Not alone was Bettina Graham’s opinion of influence among her group of Camp Fire associates, ordinarily Mrs. Burton was also equally responsive to it, Bettina possessing an unusual nature, a high sense of honor, unselfishness and above all else good breeding. And these characteristics were not due only to her parentage and training, but to something innate in the girl herself.
Yet this instant, and in spite of Peggy’s restraining hand, Mrs. Burton managed to rise from her place.
The next, she stood quietly facing the group of girls, who were gazing as intently upon her. And upon each face the Camp Fire guardian read the strongest spiritual opposition to her recent suggestion.
During the night Mrs. Burton had slept very little, she was now feeling more exhausted than she cared to confess. Nevertheless, she faced her present task with the courage and calmness characteristic of her in important moments.
Dressing had always been something of an art with Mrs. Burton, even in the days when as a girl, she, as Polly O’Neill, had little money to spend. Since that time Mrs. Burton had apologized for herself by declaring that clothes must do for her what natural beauty accomplished for other women. They must divert attention from her natural plainness.
But whether or not this were true, and most persons would not have agreed with her, Mrs. Burton always dressed with exquisite care.
This morning, even under the present trying conditions, her hair was as carefully arranged, her blue serge costume fitted with the same neatness and simplicity. Only her face revealed her fatigue and anxiety.
Nevertheless, as she stood gazing at her group of Camp Fire girls with a mixture of appeal and authority, some quality in her expression gave her a charm few persons ever possessed, a charm which had been partly responsible for her remarkable success as an actress. At present her eyes were very blue and determined, her mouth revealed both strength and tenderness.
“I am sorry,” she began, “perhaps you girls do not agree with me, perhaps it may be many years before you will understand what motive is back of my present decision. I cannot argue or explain to you now. Only by noon you must be prepared to leave here for Paris and for me to stay behind. I insist upon it. In the years I have been your Camp Fire guardian I don’t think I have often attempted to use my authority, or to follow any plan which has not met with your approval. But today I intend doing both those things. I will give you all the instructions I can and a letter to Senator Georges Duval. When you reach Paris he will see that you find a proper place to live. You will wait there until the rest of us either join you, or let you hear what to do next. Now we have already spent too much time in discussion, please get ready at once!”
As she concluded there was a finality in Mrs. Burton’s tones which few persons were ever able to disregard.
Moreover, she turned at once and left the room.
After she had gone the Camp Fire girls remained silent a moment and then Mary Gilchrist gave a despairing shrug to her shoulders.
“Well, at least I have no choice, if you girls are to go to Paris I must go with you to drive our motor. Yvonne, I think you are in the same situation that I am. We shall need you to tell us about the roads. Whatever the others think wisest I am willing to do. But assuredly I don’t believe we ought to leave Mrs. Burton here alone, and just as certainly I don’t see how we are to take her with us, unless we decide to do it by force.”
Peggy Webster, who, since the beginning of her aunt’s speech, had sat with her eyes downcast and her cheeks flushed, now leaned forward resting her elbows on the table.
“Girls, please listen and help me,” she pleaded. “It is my judgment that the rest of you must start for Paris, but that I must remain here. Tante will not go with us, or change her decision. I have known her all my life. At times she seems easily influenced, at others she is absolutely immovable. This is one of the times. So I must pretend that I mean to accompany you, I must make my preparations just as the rest of you will do, and at the last moment trust to some sudden inspiration which will allow me to stay behind. There is even the possibility that Aunt Patricia and Sally and Vera may appear before noon, though I confess I have not much faith in the idea. Recently, watching for their coming, I have felt a little like Sister Anne in the story of Bluebeard.”
At this moment Peggy attempted to laugh, although her merriment was not a conspicuous success.
Immediately after, without questioning Peggy Webster’s conclusion, the Camp Fire girls set about their preparations to join the groups of refugees, now retreating for the second time toward Paris.
There was not a great deal to be accomplished.
They had brought with them from their farmhouse on the Aisne only a few essential things, and no one had completely unpacked.
Fortunately, Yvonne Fleury had stored away at her home, not only sufficient food for their stay at the Château Yvonne, but enough to take with them whatever was required for the journey to Paris.
For two hours the girls worked industriously, Mrs. Burton assisting them in every possible way and never again referring to her own intention not to accompany them.
Only once for a few moments she had a short talk with her niece.
“I know, Peggy, that these are the days when everybody offers the most excellent advice to everybody else, so I suppose I am no exception. But please promise me not to worry about me, or to think of me, until we see each other in Paris. Then I shall be happy to receive any attention you wish to bestow upon me. In all probability the French and American troops will never allow the enemy to reach this neighborhood and I shall enjoy the rest here alone. But if anything occurs you are to tell my husband and your mother that it was my usual obstinacy which forced you girls to make this dangerous trip alone. By the way the old French peasant woman who came in this morning has promised to stay here with me if you will take her little grandson with you and see that no harm comes to him. So you see I shall be perfectly well looked after.”
“Yes,” Peggy answered non-committally, and went her way.
A little before noon Mary Gilchrist drove her motor car into a courtyard behind the French château.
The courtyard was built of stone.
On the further side a narrow road led on to the main one, which further on connected with the road to Paris.
A few moments after, the five Camp Fire girls came out of the house dressed for the journey. They wore their Camp Fire traveling costumes especially designed for their new service in France.
Mrs. Burton accompanied them, but there was nothing in her appearance or manner to suggest that she had changed her decision and intended to go on with them to Paris.
When four of the girls climbed into the motor, she stood nearby talking to them. Peggy Webster was only a few feet away, making no effort to enter, and yet with her preparations for the trip as complete as any one else.
“This is not goodbye, girls, merely the French adieu! Really I suppose both the farewells mean ‘God be with you till we meet again.’ As for me I shall see you soon, along with Aunt Patricia, Sally and Vera. Afterwards we shall remain in Paris until the Allies win the war. This cannot be far off, this temporary German success is the last flare of a dying fire. Come, Peggy dear, let me help you climb in.”
Mrs. Burton’s manner was persistently, almost annoyingly cheerful, though no one of her companions responded to it in the least degree.
“I suppose you might as well know the truth now, Tante,” Bettina Graham announced. “No one of us has ever meant to allow you to be here alone at the château. We have merely decided that Peggy is your niece and so has a greater right to stay than the rest of us. Goodbye, Peggy. If we hear you and Tante are in special danger we may return to you!”
Like many another person Mrs. Burton had believed in her own triumph before her battle had been finally won.
Now she walked over and put her hand on Peggy Webster’s shoulder.
“Come, dear, I think you understand I mean to be obeyed.”
Silently two pairs of eyes gauged each other, while two wills fought for supremacy.
But who would have conquered in the end no one was ever to find out.
At this instant there was an unexpected noise in the narrow road behind the courtyard of the château.
Forgetting Peggy for the moment, Mrs. Burton ran toward the gate which led from the courtyard into the road. For the moment she seemed to have lost courage. Few persons in the neighborhood had known of their presence in the Château Yvonne for the past few days.
She felt a sudden premonition of evil. Who could be appearing at this hour to interrupt the effort of the Camp Fire girls to reach Paris in safety?
Mrs. Burton stepped out into the road with Peggy Webster following close behind her.
A cavalcade seemed to be approaching them. Yet there was nothing to suggest danger.
Nevertheless, the spectacle they now beheld was startling even in war times.
A pair of heavy cart horses were moving up the road, drawing a large farm wagon.
Two cows, laden like beasts of burden and hitched to the wagon, were coming on behind.
On the front seat of the wagon was a tall, gaunt spinster, an old man and a boy. Miss Patricia Lord was driving.
Inside the wagon, surrounded by bundles and boxes of varying sizes, were two girls, Sally Ashton and Vera Lagerloff.
As the wagon drew near, Miss Patricia Lord stood up and began waving a long stick.
“Polly Burton, why are you and the Camp Fire girls not already on the road toward Paris? Perhaps you have not heard the Germans are breaking through at different points all along the Allied line! I will give you just five minutes to be ready to go on with us!”
CHAPTER IV
The Road to Paris
With so extraordinary a combination of vehicles the journey of the Camp Fire girls and their guardians to Paris became necessarily a slow and frequently interrupted one.
In contrast with a recently built American motor car, Miss Patricia’s present equipage suggested nothing more modern than Noah and his admirable Ark.
Yet the two groups of friends and refugees wished to keep within reasonable distance of each other. They both appreciated that if ever they were separated for any distance, they might never be able to make connections again.
The roads were becoming constantly more crowded with an increasing stream of vehicles and travelers afoot, yet among them all no equipage was so remarkable as Miss Patricia’s, or excited more interest.
Upon leaving the Château Yvonne, a quarter of an hour after Miss Patricia’s belated arrival, there had been opportunity for only a hastily arranged program.
At that time the plan had been for Mary Gilchrist, following Yvonne Fleury’s instructions, to drive straight ahead. At any point in the road, where a change of direction should be made, or any special instruction given, Mary was to draw her car aside out of the way of the other vehicles, there to await Miss Patricia’s slower approach.
The program possessed a good many obvious weaknesses and yet in the few moments at their disposal before their departure, no one of the Camp Fire party had a better plan to suggest.
Rather surprisingly well it succeeded in the beginning.
Even without the knowledge of Miss Patricia’s clumsy caravan in the background, Mary Gilchrist would not have been able to drive rapidly.
When her car reached the main road, it was found to be not merely filled with refugees seeking safety further behind the line. Reinforcements were being rushed from the opposite direction to stem the German tide.
Advancing slowly the Camp Fire automobile took its place in the long line of other vehicles. Now and then this line was halted by an officer, when heavier trucks and wagons were to be allowed to pass.
Finally, at a convenient crossroad, where she did not interfere with the other traffic, Mary halted.
Within less than half an hour Miss Patricia reached them. There she insisted upon alighting, ostensibly to make certain inquiries and to offer her usual advice, but in reality to discover the state of Mrs. Burton’s health. No one was in the least deceived.
However, as Mrs. Burton insisted she was bearing the journey remarkably well and was far more interested than frightened and that the Camp Fire girls were in the same state of mind, Miss Patricia returned to her wagon and the pilgrimage was resumed.
Toward late afternoon, the effort at a second reunion was less successful.
It was now between four and five o’clock. A great wave of weariness and depression appeared to be engulfing not only the Camp Fire travelers, but the entire band of French refugees.
When they spoke at all to one another, it was only to tell some depressing story. Surely the Germans would capture Paris with this latest victorious assault. Some one reported that the Germans had perfected a long-range gun which would bombard Paris at a distance of seventy miles.
The Camp Fire girls became subject to the same state of despondency. They talked very little; moreover, it was plain to all of them that Mrs. Burton was reaching the end of her reserve strength. Some time before, she had ceased to have anything to say.
Without discussing the question, each one of the girls now understood that they could not travel much further until morning. Some arrangement must shortly be made for the night.
At five o’clock Mary Gilchrist and Yvonne Fleury, who were on the front seat of the motor, discovered a small private road which led from the main road into the yard of a small cottage. Here they concluded to await the second coming of Miss Patricia.
Mrs. Burton they established on the tiny veranda in the front of the house, to rest and at the same time to watch for the approach of the others, while the girls went to make investigations. The house they had chosen seemed to be entirely deserted.
Too tired to care what was going on about her, for some time Mrs. Burton sat huddled in her heavy fur coat. She was too exhausted even to care what became of herself or of anyone else.
At first she scarcely noticed that the Camp Fire girls had left her a long time alone, or that Miss Patricia had failed to appear. But when more than half an hour went by she began to feel nervous.
One could readily imagine that Miss Patricia’s collection of farm animals might have given out from their long march and be unable to continue the journey.
Mrs. Burton also began to worry over Sally Ashton and Vera. She had not been able to exchange a word with either of them on their arrival at the château, and knew nothing of their experiences in the last few days since they had said goodby at the farmhouse on the Aisne.
The March winds were growing piercingly cold now that the sun was dying down. Still the little groups of refugees kept moving on past the yard of the cottage where Mrs. Burton sat waiting.
Finally the travelers seemed to be growing fewer in number; they too must have become exhausted by their long pilgrimage and be taking shelter or else resting along the roadside.
Stiff from the cold and having remained seated so long, as no one of the Camp Fire girls came back to join her, Mrs. Burton at length rose and walked out of the yard of the cottage toward the main road. It might be possible that catching sight of Miss Patricia’s approach she would be relieved of her anxiety.
After strolling on for a few yards, Mrs. Burton observed a crowd of refugees who must have halted to rest. They were seated in small groups along either side of the road. Drawing nearer, Mrs. Burton saw that their faces wore that look of patient endurance, which in the past few months she had witnessed so many times in the faces of the French peasants. They were not uncheerful, now that they were resting. Eating their evening meal life seemed to hold out fresh hope. After all, had they not been assured that the United States was each day landing thousands of fresh troops in France? Soon the enemy would be driven out of France forever!
Then, a little further on, Mrs. Burton beheld a familiar and well beloved figure.
Passing between the groups of refugees, most of them old men and women who had been traveling on foot, pushing perambulators or else drawing wagons laden with tiny children or their few household possessions, marched Miss Patricia Lord.
She appeared to be dispensing food to her fellow travelers, as on one arm she was carrying a large pail and on the other a basket.
Discovering Mrs. Burton she set both the pail and the basket down in the middle of the road and strode forward, and for once in her life Miss Patricia appeared apologetic.
“Polly, my dear, forgive me for keeping you waiting so long. I hope you are not utterly worn out; I am extremely worried about you and yet I could not resist what I am doing at present. I have had no opportunity to tell you that I brought away with me from our farmhouse nearly all the food supply we had in our possession. It was my intention then to feed as many refugees as possible along the road to Paris. I presume I should have thought of you first, but I believed you would feel obliged to wait for me somewhere and that you had journeyed far enough for today. Come with me.”
Meekly following Miss Patricia, who had by this time picked up her now empty basket and pail, Mrs. Burton walked on a few yards more.
In a little patch of grass, springing up near the roadside under the few warm rays of the March sun, Mrs. Burton found old Jean, the French peasant, milking one of Miss Patricia’s cows. Beside him and engaged in a similar occupation was a young French boy.
Drawn up out of the way of the other vehicles, that were still passing along the main road, Miss Patricia’s horses and wagon were waiting. Standing beside the wagon, was Vera Lagerloff. She was bestowing a small package of food upon anyone who requested it, but at the same time keeping careful watch on the main supply.
Not until a second glance, did Mrs. Burton discover what had become of Sally Ashton. Then she saw Sally standing listlessly a few feet away, making no effort to help either Vera or Miss Patricia and scarcely appearing to notice the people about her.
As her Camp Fire guardian approached, Sally tried to express a proper degree of enthusiasm and affection, yet Sally’s appearance frightened and puzzled Mrs. Burton.
She did not look at her directly, yet one could see that the expression of her eyes had changed. They had lost their childish look of dreaming and were wide open and startled. Her face had ceased to possess its former softly rounded curve and there were tiny hollows in her cheeks and lines about her mouth.
“Sally, I am tired, won’t you come with me? I do not feel strong enough to walk alone. The other girls and I have found a little cottage not far away which we think deserted. I believe we had best spend the night there. We are all too weary to go on any further and besides, darkness will be upon us in another hour. I will explain to Aunt Patricia, and she and Vera will join us later when they have finished feeding the little multitude.”
After a few words of explanation to Miss Patricia, Sally and Mrs. Burton went on toward the abandoned cottage, neither of them attempting any conversation.
Approaching them a few yards from the house were Alice Ashton and Bettina Graham. At once Alice took charge of her sister and Bettina of their Camp Fire guardian.
Both girls reported that the house they had discovered was entirely abandoned and that they had taken possession of it for the night. Supper was ready and waiting.
An hour after the entire party was asleep.
