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I came away. That sort of thing annoys me." And in the drawing-room, mother and son were saying a long farewell that was to last them for a few weeks. It would be some time before she could come down from London, Mrs. Priestly had said. The tears were falling fast down their cheeks. "You won't love any one else but mummy, will you, Maurie?"
"Your pardon," said he, "but are the wounded all cared for?" "As well as we are able to care for them at present," answered Beth. "And let me thank you, Jakob Maurie let us all thank you for the noble work you did for us to-day." "Pah! it was nothing," said he, shifting from one foot to another. "I enjoyed it, mamselle. It was such fun to dive into the battle and pull out the wounded.
"I suppose you wouldn't come into bed and cry it's much warmer." A sob broke in Sally's throat. Here now it had come so soon as this the fulfilment of Janet's prophecy. The curse of Eve was no mystery to her now. She knew. She knew what life lacked. "No; you must go to sleep now, Maurie," she said thickly. "You must go to sleep now. You mustn't cry any more."
"What's wrong?" asked Mr. Merrick, sticking his head from a window. "We nearly ran over a man," answered Jones, climbing down from his seat. "Our front wheels are right against him, but Maurie stopped in time." Lying flat upon his face, diagonally across the roadway, was the form of a man in the blue-and-red uniform of the Belgian army.
Maurie removed his cap and scratched the hair over his left ear reflectively. "Ah, yes, the blacksmith!" said he. "I suspected that blacksmith fellow was not reliable." "How many husbands has Clarette?" "With the blacksmith, there are two of us," answered Maurie, brightly. "Doubtless there would be more if anything happened to me, for Clarette is very fascinating.
I have rooms in London myself. I shall go to them. Good-bye." "But, Miss Bishop, you can't leave us like this. I must thank you properly for all your kindness. You can't leave us like this!" "It's the best way," said Sally; "I'd sooner this way. Good-bye." They shook hands silently. Mrs. Priestly got into the cab. Sally wondered would she tell Maurie that he would not see her again.
If the tears could have come then; but she laid the letter down on the table, and her eyes were aching and dry. The quaintness of the spelling, the almost complete absence of punctuation. That queer little repetition, of words "she is she is" none of these things moved her, even to smile. Maurie had said good-bye properly.
The man frankly stated that he had undertaken the task in order to get to Dunkirk, where he had friends, and he had been liberally paid by a German on crutches, who had one foot missing, and a little Belgian whom he had never seen before, but who, from the description given, could be none other than Maurie.
"Tell us," pleaded Patsy, who was one of the curious group surrounding him. "We had gone near to where a machine gun was planted, to pick up a fallen soldier, when without warning the Germans charged the gun. Maurie and I made a run for life, but Gys stood stock still, facing the enemy.
"A man can't run away from himself, sir; and perhaps you can understand the fascination I find in taunting the craven spirit within me." "No, I can't understand it. But suit yourself." "I shall drive," announced Maurie. "You may be recognized," said Patsy warningly. "Clarette will not be at the front, and on the way I shall be driving. Have you noticed how people scatter at the sound of our gong?"
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