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Red Cross Girls With The Russian Army

<h2>[53]CHAPTER IV</h2> <h3>An Encounter</h3> BARBARA had been writing a letter to Dick Thornton. She was seated on the side of her cot bed in a tiny room high up in a tower, with only one small window overlooking the courtyard below. Although it was well into the twentieth century, this room was just such an one as might have concealed the hapless Amy Robsart in the days of Lord Leicester and Kenilworth Castle. But although Barbara had not to suffer the thought of a faithless lover, at the present moment she was feeling extremely sorry for herself. Russia had no charms for her as it appeared to have for Mildred Thornton and Nona Davis. She disliked its bleakness, its barbarity and the strange, moody people it contained. Of course she realized that there was another side to Russian life, before the present war its society was [54]one of the gayest in the world. But these days, when the Germans were driving the Russian army backward and even further backward behind their own frontiers, were days for work and silence, not social amusements. Moreover, Barbara knew that she could never expect to have any part in Russian social life when her mission lay among the wounded. So far she had met only other Red Cross nurses, a few physicians and the soldiers who required her care. But really Barbara was not so foolish as to resent these conditions; she was merely homesick and anxious to see Dick Thornton, and if not Dick, then Eugenia. France had not seemed so far away from the United States and she had loved France and its brave, gay people. She had understood them and their life. Almost she had envied Eugenia her future possession of the old chateau and the little “Farmhouse with the Blue Front Door.” But then Eugenia had seemed to find France as strange and uncongenial as Barbara now considered Russia. Even after her marriage to Captain [55]Castaigne, Eugenia had confessed to the younger girl how she dreaded her own inability to become a Frenchwoman. She still feared that she would never be equal to the things Captain Castaigne had a right to expect of her, once the war was over. Eugenia had merely cared too much to be willing to give him up, but was too wise to expect that her problems would end with marriage. So with this thought Barbara Meade finally removed a tear from the end of her nose. It had trickled quite comfortably out of her eyes, but as her nose was somewhat retroussé, it had hesitated there. After all, an American marriage was best for an American girl! Barbara tried to convince herself that she should be rejoicing instead of lamenting. Certainly Dick was the most agreeable and to be desired person in the entire world. But then there was another side to this! Had he not been, perhaps she would not at this moment be missing him so terribly and at all the moments. Letters were so infrequent! Mrs. Thornton might posi[56]tively refuse to allow her son to marry so insignificant a person, and Dick forget all about her! But in the midst of this last and most harrowing thought, fortunately Nona Davis came into the room. She looked excited, but on catching sight of her friend’s face her expression changed. “Good heavens, Barbara!” she began. Then the next moment she walked over and tilted the other girl’s chin with her hand. “You are just homesick, aren’t you, and longing for some one who shall be nameless? You frightened me at first; I feared you had heard dreadful news. Come, get your coat and have a walk with me. We have both nearly two hours of freedom and I’ve permission to go outside the fortifications.” The other girl shook her head and shivered. “It is too cold, Nona dear, and besides, I’m afraid. I know the Russians are said to be holding the line of fortifications [57]beyond us, but then the Germans may break through at any time. Goodness knows, I don’t see what you and Mildred find so fascinating in Russia! I am afraid I am not brave enough to have come with you.” While Barbara was arguing Nona had taken her coat from its hook on the wall and was putting it about her friend. “Yes, I know all that, but just the same you are coming for a walk. As long as you are here you must keep strong enough to do your work. But there, I can’t scold half so well as Eugenia. I suppose if Dick belonged to me I should be as wretched as you are without him. You are a dear to have stuck by Mildred and me during this Russian work. But do come, I’ve something really interesting to tell you. Perhaps you may feel a tiny bit less lonely afterwards.” In the meantime Nona had put on her own coat and cap and the two girls started. They had to walk down a narrow stone corridor and then a long flight of winding stone steps to reach the courtyard below. [58]To the right the soldiers were drilling. One could hear the harsh clatter of their heavy boots and the crash of their rifles when they touched the frozen earth. It had turned unexpectedly cold, and yet without a spoken word both girls stopped and stared about them as soon as they reached the outdoors. Certainly the scene formed an extraordinary setting for two young American girls! The sky was gray, and although it was only early autumn, there were occasional flurries of snow. Behind them stood a long, low line of stone and iron fortifications with enormous guns mounted at intervals along the walls. At one end was an observation tower, where one could see miles on miles of trenches stretching in a kind of semicircle before the fortifications. Should the enemy destroy the trenches the Russian soldiers could then mass behind the fort and afterwards, if necessary, accomplish their retreat. For a small force could delay the enemy through the strength of their position and the use of their big guns. [59]Sheltered behind breastworks of earth, barbed wire entanglements and a natural protection of trees, the girls could barely discern the aerodrome. In this place were situated the machine shops for building and repairing aeroplanes, and also from here their flights and returns could be made. Yet in spite of these signs of active warfare, the place was curiously silent. Barbara felt puzzled. Only the endless tramp, tramp of the soldiers at drill and an occasional guttural command. The noises from the inside of the fort never penetrated to the outside. But then these Russians were a quiet people. Within a few moments the two girls showed their order to the sentry and were allowed to pass beyond the gate. They then started on their walk along the same road which Nona had traveled alone several days before. But actually this was the first chance the girls had for talking over Nona’s experiences together. True, they shared the same bedroom, so that on her return Nona had given a brief report. [60]But really they had been too tired at night to grasp the situation. Now naturally Barbara thought her companion meant to talk of her recent experience. Neither one of them attempted conversation at the beginning of their walk, for the main road was as filled with supplies of every kind that were being hauled to the great fort, as it had been on the day of Nona’s solitary excursion. But indeed this was a daily occurrence. So, as soon as possible, the girls got away from the road into a lane that was lined with peasants’ huts. This lay in an opposite direction from the path Nona had previously taken. She had no desire to meet her former acquaintance again until she had made up her mind as to her own attitude toward her. Neither Barbara nor Mildred had so far been able to give her any definite advice. Mildred really refused to consider that the older woman could have known Nona’s mother years before in their own country. Her story was too incredible to be believed. Barbara had not taken this same point [61]of view. At the present moment she was going over the situation in retrospection. In the first place, it was absurd to think that any train of circumstances could be impossible in such a surprising world. The woman, whom they had once known as Lady Dorian and whom they now were to think of by another name, had evidently once been a woman of wealth and culture, no matter what her present condition of poverty. She seemed to have traveled everywhere and she may of course have met Nona Davis’ family. There was actually no reason why she should not have known them, Barbara concluded in her sensible western fashion. Doubtless when Nona allowed the older woman to explain the situation it would not be half so mysterious as it now appeared. The really remarkable thing was, not that the other woman should be familiar with Nona’s mother’s history, but that her own daughter should be so in ignorance. For her part she intended to advise Nona to listen to whatever their former friend wished to tell her. But just as Barbara [62]opened her lips to offer this advice, her companion spoke. “Barbara, you have been in such a study you haven’t asked for the piece of news I have to give you. Do you remember almost quarreling with me because I did not wish to write a note to the English fellow we once knew when we were in Brussels, after you discovered him in prison there?” Barbara nodded, her mind immediately distracted from her former train of thought. “Lieutenant Hume? Why, do you know what has become of him?” she inquired. In reply Nona took a letter out of her pocket. “I had a note from him today. You see, after your lecture I continued writing him in prison every now and then during the year we spent in Belgium. Just occasionally he was allowed to send me a few lines in reply. Then a long time passed and I had almost forgotten him. Now he writes to say that by an extraordinary freak of fortune he has been returned home. It seems that he became very ill, so when the [63]Germans decided to agree on an exchange of prisoners, he and our little blind Frenchman, Monsieur Bebé, were both sent back to their own lands. Lieutenant Hume does not say what is the matter with him. His letter isn’t about himself. He is really tremendously anxious to hear news of us. He has just learned of Eugenia’s marriage to Henri Castaigne, and he thinks we are pretty foolhardy to have offered our services for nursing in Russia.” Instinctively Barbara held her companion’s arm in a closer grasp. “Far be it from me to disagree with him!” she murmured. For her attention had just been arrested by the noise of a horse’s hoofs approaching. Both girls looked up to see a young Cossack soldier riding toward them. He sat his horse as though he were a part of it, his feet swinging in long stirrups and his hands barely touching the reins. Both girls felt a stirring sense of admiration. But to their surprise, as the horse drew near the young soldier pulled up and slid quietly to the ground. [64]The next instant he came up toward Nona. “You will pardon me,” he said, speaking English, although with a noticeable accent, “but it will not be wise for you to continue to walk any further along this road. It is growing late and there are stragglers coming in from several villages where a German raid is feared.” He had taken off his pointed Cossack cap of lamb’s wool and held it in his hand as though he had been a young American meeting a group of friends upon an ordinary thoroughfare. Barbara was struck by the incongruity of his appearance and his behavior. He looked like a half-civilized warrior of centuries ago, and yet his manner was the conventional one of today. However, it would not be wise to expect him to remain conventional under unusual conditions. Barbara could see that the young Russian officer was a son of the east, not the west. He had a peculiar Oriental pallor and long, slanting dark eyes, and his small black moustache scarcely concealed the thin red lines of his lips. [65]Nona was frowning at him in a puzzled fashion. But the next instant she bowed with an expression of recognition. “Thank you, we will do as you suggest. It is odd to see you so soon again after our unexpected meeting the other afternoon. Lieutenant Orlaff, this is my friend, Miss Meade.” Barbara inclined her head, too surprised to do more. But as the Russian officer continued to walk beside them with his horse following, she soon understood where he and Nona had met each other. “Yes, she is an old friend, Sonya Valesky. I knew her years ago and then she went away into other countries.” The young Russian hesitated. Barbara and Nona were both watching his face closely, so that they could see the cloud of doubt, even of struggle, that swept over it. “You are strangers in my country, but you have come here to help us in our need,” he protested, almost as if he were thinking aloud. “I would not have you doubt my friend. [66]I cannot explain to you, and yet I wish to warn you. Do not be too intimate with Sonya Valesky. Russia is not like other countries in times of war or peace. She has many problems, tragedies of her own to overcome which the foreigner cannot understand. Forgive me if I should not have spoken.” Then before either girl could fully grasp what the young man’s confused speech could mean, he had bowed, mounted his horse and ridden off. Back to contents <hr /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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