interlude(玛丽罗茨莱因哈特惊人的幕间表演)-第31节
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on hand？ What； for instance； if they were about to attempt to drain the
inundation； smash the Belgian line； and march by the Dunkirk road to
Calais？
So； that night while Henri jested about Pierre's right elbow and
watched Sara Lee for a smile； he had difficult work before him。
Sometime near midnight he slipped away。 Jean was waiting in the
street； and wrung the boy's hand。
〃I could go with you；〃 he said rather wistfully。
〃You don't speak their ugly tongue。〃
〃I could be mute … shell shock。 You could be helping me back。〃
But Henri only held his hand a moment and shook his head。
〃You would double the risk； and … what good would it do？〃
Two pistols are better than one。〃
〃I have two pistols； my friend；〃 said Henri； and turned the corner of
the building； past the boards Rene had built in； toward the house of the
mill。 But once out of Jean's sight he stopped a moment； his hand resting
against that frail wall to Sara Lee's room。 It was his good…by to her。
For three days Jean stayed in the village。 He slept at the mill； but he
came for his meals to the little house。 Once he went to Dunkirk and
brought out provisions and the mail； including Sara Lee's monthly
allowance。 But mostly he sat in the mill house and waited。 He could not
read。
〃You do not eat at all； Jean；〃 Sara Lee said to him more than once。 And
twice she insisted that he was feverish； and placed a hand that was
somewhat marred with much peeling of vegetables； on his forehead。
〃I am entirely well； mademoiselle；〃 he would say； and draw back。 He
had anxieties enough just now without being reminded by the touch of a
woman's hand of all that he had lost。
Long before that Sara Lee had learned not to question Jean about
Henri's absences。 Even his knowledge； now； that she knew something of
Henri's work； did not remove the barrier。 So Sara Lee waited； as did Jean；
but more helplessly。 She knew something was wrong； but she had not
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Jean's privilege of going at night to the trenches and there waiting； staring
over the gray water with its ugly floating shadows； for Henri to emerge
from the flood。
Something rather forced and mechanical there was those days in her
work。 Her smile was rather set。 She did not sleep well。 And one night she
violated Henri's orders and walked across the softened fields to beyond the
poplar trees。
There was nothing to see except an intermittent flash from the clouds
that hung low over the sea at Nieuport； where British gunboats were
bombarding the coast； or the steady streaks from the Ypres salient； where
night and day the guns never rested。
》From the Belgian trenches； fifteen hundred feet or so away； there was
no sound。 A German electric signal blazed its message in code； and went
out quickly。 … Now and then a rifle shot； thin and sharp； rang out from
where； under the floating starlights； keen eyes on each side watched for
movements on the other。
Sara Lee sat down under a tree and watched for a while。 Then she
found herself crying softly。 It was all so sad； and useless； and cruel。 And
somewhere there ahead was Henri； Henri with his blue eyes； his smile； the
ardor of his young arms … Henri； who had been to her many friends。
Sara Lee had never deceived herself about Henri。 She loved him。 But
she was quite certain she was not in love with him； which is entirely
different。 She knew that this last was impossible； because she was engaged
to Harvey。 What was probably the truth was that she loved them both in
entirely different ways。 Men have always insisted on such possibilities；
and have even asserted their right； now and then； to love two women at the
same time。 But women are less frank with themselves。
And； in such cases； there is no grand passion。 There are tenderness；
and the joy of companionship； and sometimes a touching dependence。 But
it is not a love that burns with a white fire。
Perhaps Sara Lee was one of those women who are always loved more
than they love。 There are such women； not selfish； not seeking love； but
softly feminine； kind； appealing and genuine。 Men need； after all； but an
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THE AMAZING INTERLUDE
altar on which to lay tribute。 And the high； remote white altar that was
Sara Lee had already received the love of two strong men。
She was not troubling her head that night； however； about being an
altar； of a sort。 She cried a little at first； because she was terrified for Henri
and because Jean's face was growing pinched and gray。 Then she cried
very hard； prone on the ground and face down； because Henri was young；
and all of life should have been before him。 And he was missing。
Henri was undeniably missing。 Even the King knew it now； and set
down in his heart； among the other crosses there； Henri's full name； which
we may not know； and took to pacing his little study and looking out at the
spring sea。
That night Marie； having ladled to the bottom of her kettle； found Sara
Lee missing； and was told by Rene of the direction she had taken。 Marie；
muttering to herself； set out to find her； and almost stumbled over her in
the wood by the road。
She sat down on the ground without a word and placed a clumsy hand
on the girl's shoulder。 It was not until Sara Lee ceased sobbing that she
spoke：
〃It is far from hopeless； mademoiselle。〃
They had by now established a system of communication。 Sara Lee
spoke her orders in halting French； but general conversation was beyond
her。 And much hearing of English had taught the Belgian girl enough to
follow。
Sara Lee replied； then； in smothered English：
〃He is gone； Marie。 He will never come back。〃
〃Who can tell？ There are many missing who are not dead。〃
Sara Lee shuddered。 For spies were not made prisoners。 They had no
rights as prisoners of war。 Their own governments did not protect them。 To
Henri capture was death。 But she could not say this to Marie。
Marie sat softly stroking Sara Lee's hair； her own eyes tragic and
tearless。
〃Even if it were … the other；〃 she said； 〃it is not so bad to die for one's
country。 The thing that is terrible； that leaves behind it only bitterness and
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grief and no hope； mademoiselle； even with many prayers； is that one has
died a traitor。〃
She coaxed Sara Lee back at last。 They went through the fields； for
fresh troops were being thrown into the Belgian trenches and the street
was full of men。 Great dray horses were dragging forward batteries； the
heavy guns sliding and slipping In the absence of such information as only
Henri had been wont to bring it was best to provide for the worst。
The next day Jean did not come over for breakfast； and Rene handed
Sara Lee a note。
〃I am going to England；〃 Jean had written that dawn in the house of
the mill。 〃And from there to Holland。 I can get past the barrier and shall
work down toward the Front。 I must learn what has happened；
mademoiselle。 As you know； if he was captured； there is no hope。 But
there is an excellent chance that he is in hiding； unable to get back。 Look
for me in two weeks。〃
There followed what instructions he had given as to her supplies；
which would come as before。 Beautifully written in Jean's small fine hand；
it spelled for Sara Lee the last hope。 She read Jean's desperation through
its forced cheerfulness。 And she faced for the first time a long period of
loneliness in the crowded little house。
She tried very hard to fill the gap that Henri had left … tried to joke
with the men in her queer bits of French； was more smiling than ever； or
fear she might be less。 But now and then in cautious whispers she heard
Henri's name； and her heart contracted with very terror。
A week。 Two weeks。 Twice the village was bombarded severely； but
the little house escaped by a miracle。 Marie considered it the same miracle
that left holy pictures unhurt on the w
