CHAPTER XIV.
Mary Brander was, as usual, called before daylight by Margot, and wasdressing when a sound like the rumbling of a heavy wagon, caused her topause suddenly, and then hurry to the window and throw it open.
"They have begun again," she exclaimed, "and the firing is heavier thanit was before. It comes from the east. It must be Trochu's force engagedagain."
She hastily completed her toilet, drank off the coffee Margot had gotready for her, and then started on her way to the ambulance.
"It is louder than ever," she exclaimed. "It must be a terrible battle."
The roar of the cannon never ceased. The windows and doors were all openas she went along, and women in various states of dishabille weretalking excitedly to each other from the former across the street; whilethe men, equally excited, were discussing the battle in groups. Allagreed that the forts in the loop of the Marne were engaged. This causedsome disappointment.
"We can't be so far out as we thought," one said, "or we should bebeyond range of the guns."
"Perhaps the Germans are attacking us," an old man suggested, but theidea was received with derision, and Mary caught no more of theconversation as she hurried along.
It was an absolute relief to her when she entered the ambulance, for thecontinued roar of the guns and the thought of what was going on werewell nigh intolerable to her nerves, and her hands were shaking as sheremoved her bonnet and cloak. Even the quiet hospital tents shared inthe excitement outside. The patients whose hurts were comparativelyslight were sitting up in their beds discussing the battle eagerly.Others more seriously hurt raised their heads to listen, while somelying apparently unconscious moaned and moved uneasily, mutteringoccasionally incoherent words, the quiver in earth and air arousing adim sense of battle and danger.
"More work for us," Dr. Swinburne said, as he passed her, while she wastrying to soothe a restless patient into quiet again.
"I am afraid so, Doctor, and by the sound it will be even worse than thelast."
"The loss is not always proportionate to the noise," he said,cheerfully, "the forts may be merely preparing a way for a generaladvance. They said it was to begin this morning."
As before it was not until evening that the wounded began to come in.Those who were first brought were sombre and depressed. It was theGermans who were attacking; the French had been surprised and badlybeaten. But later on the news was better. Champigny had been noblydefended, the French had rallied, and, after hard fighting, thePrussians were driven back and all the ground lost recovered. Some ofthe wounded had been among those who had defended Champigny. To theseMary put the question she had asked of others who were not too severelywounded to be able to talk. "Who had taken part in the fight?" Themobiles and the line had all been engaged.
"But there were no National Guards, Nurse."
"Had they seen any Franc-tireurs?"
Hitherto the answer to the question had been, no; but the men fromChampigny gave a different answer.
Yes, a corps had fought there; they did not know who they were. Theywere dressed in gray. Whoever they were they fought like tigers. It wasthey, they all agreed, who saved Champigny.
"The Prussians were advancing," one said, "and we could not have heldout much longer. They were advancing by the road, and through thegardens; it was all over with us, when the men in gray came up."
"I was at the barricade," one said, "there were not twenty of us leftthere when a company arrived. If they had fought in a hundred battlesthey could not have done better. They had their colonel with them. Afine old militaire. He was killed by my side. The Prussians never got afoot further, for though we were hard pressed again and again we heldour ground till the cowards, who had run, began to come back again. Itwas hot, mademoiselle. I can tell you it was a rain-storm of bullets,and their shell fell every moment among us, and it would have been allup with them if the batteries had not silenced their guns."
"I was in one of the houses," his comrade put in; "we were doing ourbest to prevent the Prussians coming up through the gardens behind, butthere were but few of us, and they were some hundreds strong. If theyhad gone on they would have caught us all in a trap, and we were justgoing to warn the others to fall back when we saw the Franc-tireurs comerunning up. They were smart fellows as well as brave ones. They knockedloopholes through a wall in no time and clung to it for an hour, atleast. Then the Prussians were reinforced heavily. The Franc-tireursfell back to the next wall, and when the Prussians rushed forward, theygave it them hotly while we took them in flank from the houses; theymust have a hundred and fifty men left behind them when they rushed backto the wall they had advanced from.
"And did the Franc-tireurs suffer much?" Mary asked.
"I should say they lost more than half their number. When they formed upafter the fighting was over and the Prussians driven back, we gave thema hearty cheer. I believe there were three companies of them when theycame up, and altogether there were not more than a strong companyparaded. You must not think that all the others were killed,mad'moiselle," seeing by Mary's face that the news was terrible to her."Of those who didn't parade you may reckon that two-thirds were onlywounded."
"Not so many as that," the other, who had not observed Mary's face,said, "they were not the fellows to fall out for a slight wound. Why,the best part of those who paraded had hurts, and I fancy some of themwere serious, though they did their best to make light of it, and wavedtheir caps when we cheered them. You may be sure that those who weremissing must have been hard hit indeed."
"Imbecile beast," his comrade growled, as Mary moved silently away,"could you not see by her face that the girl had friends in that corps?Didn't you notice how pleased she looked when we praised their braveryand how white her face came, when I said what their losses were. I triedto comfort her by making out that most of the missing might be onlywounded, and then, imbecile that you are, you break in with your talkand as good as tell her that if they ain't all dead, they are likely tobe so before long."
"I would have bit my tongue out before I would have said so," the othersaid, penitently, "but I did not notice her looks. Do you think I wouldhave said it if I had, just as she had been bandaging our wounds, too,like a little mother."
The Franc-tireurs remained in the village all night, and as soon as theyfell out had scattered over the whole ground, collected the dead andlaid them together and brought the wounded into the houses.
The soldier's estimate was not far wrong; the number of the deadexceeded that of the wounded and most of these were very seriously hurt.Of those found lying behind the walls many had been killed outright,being struck on the head by bullets through the loopholes, behind whichthey were firing; but of those hit during the retreat, or when at lastthey took the offensive, many of the wounds, though of a disabling, werenot of a fatal nature. The company on the other side of the village hadnot been pressed so severely, but the Prussian shell had fallen thicklythere, and a large proportion of the wounds were caused by fragments ofshell or stone. The company which held the barricade had comparativelyfew wounded, but had lost half their number by bullets through the headas they fired over its crest.
It was hard work, indeed, for the surgeons and nurses that night. Formany nothing could be done, they were beyond the reach of surgical aid;but not only was there the work of bandaging wounds, but of giving drinkand soup to all that could take them, of writing down last messages tofriends from those among the dying who retained their consciousness, orin aiding Dr. Swinburne and his assistant in their work, and intemporarily bandaging the wounds of those for whom nothing else could bedone till daylight. At eight o'clock next morning an ambulance wagondrew up to the door and an orderly came in to the doctor with a message.
"I have six wounded here. The surgeon told me to tell you that one ofthem had particularly wished to be brought up to your ambulance, and asthe others all belonged to the same corps I was to leave them here."
"I will see if there is room," the doctor said, and calling one of
thegentlemen who aided in the service of the ambulance, asked him, "Do youknow, Wilson, how many have died in the night?"
"Eight or ten, Doctor."
"Well, get Phillips and Grant to help you to carry out six of them; laythem in that empty tent for the present. As soon as you have done thatbring the six wounded in from the wagon outside."
In a few minutes the injured men were brought in.
"Ah, they are Franc-tireurs," the doctor said.
"They are Franc-tireurs des Ecoles," the orderly, who had accompaniedthem, said; "the surgeon said they were all students. They deserve goodtreatment, Doctor, for no men could have fought better than they did.Everyone says that they saved Champigny."
"Put them together, Wilson, if you can, or at any rate in pairs. Theyare students of the University, the art schools, and so on. If there arenot two empty beds together put them anywhere for the present; we canshift the beds about in a day or two when we get breathing-time."
"There are two vacant beds in No. 2 marque, Doctor."
The doctor stepped to the litter that had just been carried in. Itsoccupant was sensible.
"Is there any one of your comrades you would prefer to be placed in thebed next to you?" he asked in French.
"Yes, Doctor," he replied in English. "The tall fellow who was next tome in the wagon. I am a countryman of yours, and he is an Englishman,and we are in the same art school."
"An American?" Dr. Swinburne replied. "I am glad, indeed, they broughtyou here. You may be sure that we will do everything we can to make youcomfortable. I will attend to you directly I have seen the othersbrought in."
Mary Brander's heart gave a bound as she saw the wounded man brought in,for she recognized the uniform at once. A glance, however, at the darkhead reassured her. As soon as the stretcher was laid down by the bedwhich-was the last in the line, and the wounded man was lifted on to itshe went as usual with a glass of weak spirits and water to his side.
"Will you drink, monsieur," she asked, in French.
"I am an American," he said, with a faint smile, "as I suppose you are."
"No, I am English, which is nearly the same thing."
"I must trouble you to hold it to my lips," he said, "for as you see myright arm is useless, my collar-bone is broken, I believe, and myshoulder-blade smashed. However, it might be worse."
She held a glass to his lips. As he drank a sudden thought struck her.
"Are you Arnold Dampierre?" she asked.
"That is certainly my name," he said, "though I cannot think how youguess it."
"I have heard of you from a friend of mine, Cuthbert Harrington. Can youtell me, sir, if he is hurt?"
"Then you must be Miss Brander. Yes, I am sorry to say he is hurt. Idon't know how badly," he went on hurriedly, as he saw the look of painin her face. "I did not see him until we were put in the wagon next toeach other, and he was not much up to talking, and in fact its motionwas too much for him and he fainted, but no doubt he will soon comeround. They are bringing him into the next bed. Perhaps it will bebetter for you if you were to let one of the other nurses attend to himuntil he comes round a bit."
But Mary shook her head silently. She had been trembling as she askedthe question, but she stood stiff and rigid as Cuthbert was brought up.She gave one short gasp when she saw his face as they lowered the litterto the ground. Then she hurried to the table on which the glasses werestanding, poured some brandy into a tumbler, and was turning when thesurgeon entered the tent. She put down the glass, hurried up to him, andlaid a fluttering hand on his arm.
"Come, Doctor; please come quickly."
A momentary flash of surprise crossed his face. However, he said nothingbut quickened his steps and stood by the pallet on to which Cuthbert hadjust been lifted. A shade passed over his face; he put his hand onCuthbert's wrist, then knelt down and placed his ear over his heart.
"Is he dead?" Mary asked in a whisper, as he rose to his feet again.
"No, no, my dear, I hope he is worth many dead men yet; he has faintedfrom the jolting of the wagon just as many others that you have seenhave done. Fetch that brandy you have just poured out. He is hard hit,"and he pointed to a bloodstained patch in his shirt just above thewaistband of his trousers. "There is no doubt about that, but we shallknow more about it presently."
As she hurried off to fetch the brandy the doctor's lips tightened.
"It is fifty to one against him," he muttered, "still, I have seen menlive with similar wounds."
He took the glass from Mary's hands as she returned and poured a littlebetween Cuthbert's lips. Then he listened to the heart's beating again.
"It is stronger already," he said, encouragingly to Mary. "Now, my dear,you had better go out for a few minutes and get a little fresh air. AskMrs. Stanmore to come here. I must try and find out where the bullet hasgone." As she moved away he went on, "Wait here a minute, Wilson, Ishall want to turn him over directly. Now for the wound. Ah! I thoughtso!" as he removed a lightly fastened bandage and lifted a pad of lintbeneath it.
"There has been no bleeding since he was taken up. No doubt he fellforward at first. Now turn him over. Ah, the bullet has gone rightthrough! He must have been hit by a shot fired at close quarters. Well,that will save us trouble and the chances of complications. It is now asimple question of how much damage it did as it passed through. Ah, Mrs.Stanmore," he went on as the nurse came up with a tray of bandages andother necessaries, "I find that there is not much to do here."
He took two small pieces of lint and rolled them up, poured a few dropsof carbolic acid on to them, placed one in each orifice, put pads oflint over them, and passed a bandage twice round the body to keep themin place.
"Thank you, Wilson, that will do for the present. Please pour a littlestrong brandy and water down his throat, Mrs. Stanmore. Now I will seeto the next man. How are you hurt? In the shoulder, I see, by yourbandages."
"I was lying down behind a wall, Doctor, and raised myself slightly tofire through a loophole when a bullet came through. I heard the surgeonsay that it had smashed the collar-bone, and had gone out through thebone behind. I don't know what he called it, but it is what I shouldcall the shoulder-bone."
"Well, in that case you are in luck," the surgeon said, "if it hadglanced more downwards you would have been a dead man five minutes afteryou were hit. Do you feel comfortable at present?"
"As comfortable as I can expect."
"Then in that case I won't disturb the bandages. They are all tight now,and the man who bandaged you evidently knew what he was about, which ismore than I can say for some of those who have sent me in specimens oftheir handiwork. For the present there is nothing for you to do but tolie quiet. I will have a look at you again later, there are so manycases that must be attended to at once."
"I am in no hurry, I can assure you, Doctor. I suffered too much whenthey bandaged me to want a repetition of it until it is absolutelynecessary."
The doctor nodded and then hurried off to visit the men who had beencarried off into the other marquees. As he pushed aside the flaps at theentrance he stopped abruptly, for a few yards away Mary Brander waslying insensible on the ground, now covered with a light sprinkle ofsnow that had fallen in the morning.
"Poor little girl!" he said, as he raised her in his arms, and carriedher into his own tent and placed her in a rocking-chair, "this affaircoming on the top of the work last night has been too much for her." Hewent into the next marque.
"Miss Betham," he said to one of the nurses, "Miss Brander has justbroken down; she has fainted. You will find her in a chair in my tent.Take a bottle of salts and a little brandy. When she comes round makeher lie down on the bed there, tell her that my orders are absolute,that she is to keep quiet for a time. She is not to go to work in thewards again and she is not to leave my tent until I have seen her. Thereis no getting a conveyance, and she won't be fit to walk home for sometime."
An hour later Dr. Swinburne snatched a moment from his work and lookedin at his tent. Mary spra
ng up from the bed as he entered.
"That is right, my dear," he said, "I see you are active again. I amsure you will be glad to hear that the patient you called me to hasrecovered consciousness. The bullet passed right through him, which is agood sign. So that trouble is disposed of. As to the future I can saynothing as yet. Of course it depends upon what damage the ball did onits way through. However, I am inclined to view the case favorably. Ican only judge by his face, and, although it is, of course, white anddrawn, there is not that ashen sort of pallor which is almost a suresign of injury to vital parts."
"Then you think there is some hope, Doctor," she asked, with her handslightly clasped before her.
"Honestly, I think there is. He must, of course, be kept absolutely freefrom anything like agitation, and if you think your presence is likelyto agitate him in the slightest degree, I should say that when you cometo work again you had better exchange into one of the other wards."
"It will not agitate him in the least, Doctor," she said, after amoment's pause, "I can answer for that. We are old friends, for he hasknown me since I was a little child; we are more like cousins thananything else, and if he knows which ambulance he is in, I am sure hewill be surprised if I do not come to him."
"I think it is likely he will guess," Dr. Swinburne said, "when he hearsthe nurses speaking English; and, indeed, it seems that either he or oneof the others particularly asked to be sent here. If it is as you say,your presence may do him good rather than harm, and you can go to himfor a short time; but remember that you are not fit for nursing and thatthe sooner you are able to get home again the better. You have been onduty more than twenty-four hours and it has been a terribly trying timefor you all."
Mary nodded.
"I really feel better now, Doctor. I have been very anxious about Mr.Hartington ever since I knew that his corps had gone out, and I thinksuspense is harder to bear than anything. You will see I shan't breakdown again."
"If you do, Miss Brander, remember I shall have to take your name offthe list of nurses. We have enough to do and think about here withouthaving fainting young ladies on our hands." He spoke gravely, but Marysaw he was not really in earnest.
"I never thought," she said, "that I should come under the category of afainting young lady, and I feel humiliated. Then I may go in, Doctor?"
"Yes, if you are sure of yourself and are certain that it won't agitatehim."
A minute later she stood by Cuthbert's side. He was lying on his backwith his eyes open. A hospital rug had been thrown over him. As shebent over him his eyes fell on her face and he smiled faintly.
"I was wondering whether you had heard I was here," he said, in a voiceso low that she could scarce hear it. "Well, you see, I brought my eggsto a bad market, and your friends, the Prussians, have given me a lessonI would not learn from you. But we beat them fairly and squarely, thereis a satisfaction in that."
"There does not seem much consolation in it, Cuthbert," she said,quietly.
"There is to me," he said, "that shows you are not a soldier. To asoldier it makes all the difference as he lies wounded, whether he hasshared in a victory or suffered in a defeat."
"Then I am very glad that you have won if it makes any difference toyou, Cuthbert. Now you know you have to lie very still, and I am suretalking is very bad for you."
"I don't suppose it makes any difference one way or the other, Mary. Afew hours, perhaps, but whether it is to-day or to-morrow isimmaterial."
"You must not talk like that, Cuthbert, and you must not think so. Thedoctor says that although, of course, you are badly wounded, he thinksthere is every hope for you."
"So the surgeon said who dressed my wounds last night, Mary, but I knewthat he did not really think so."
"But I am sure Dr. Swinburne does think so, Cuthbert. I am certain thathe was not trying to deceive me."
"Well, I hope that he is right," Cuthbert replied, but with theindifference common to men in extreme weakness. "I should certainly liketo give the finishing touches to those two pictures. There is nothingelse to show for my life. Yes, I should like to finish them. You arelooking bad yourself," he added, suddenly, "all this is too much foryou."
"I am only tired," she said, "and of course it has been trying work forthe last twenty-four hours."
"Well, you must go home and get some rest. If I had been going soon Ishould have liked you to have stopped with me till I went, but if, asyou say, the doctor thinks I may last for a time it does not matter, andI would rather know that you were getting a rest than that you werewearing yourself out here. What o'clock is it now?"
"It is just two. Please don't worry about me. If I were to break downthere are plenty to take my place, but I am not going to. Anyhow I shallwait to hear what Dr. Swinburne says when he next comes round, and thenif the report is favorable I shall go home for the night and be hereagain the first thing in the morning. Are you in much pain, Cuthbert?"
"No, I am in no pain at all. I just feel numbed and a little drowsy, andmy feet are cold."
Mary went away, filled a tin bottle with hot water and placed it at hisfeet, and then covered them over with another rug.
"Now you must not talk any more, Cuthbert. Your hands are cold, let meput the rug over them. There, you look more comfortable. Now shut youreyes and try to get to sleep until the doctor comes round."
Cuthbert closed his eyes at once. Mary went about the ward doing herwork for the next two hours, returning at frequent intervals to thebedside, and seeing with satisfaction that he was sleeping quietly. Atfour o'clock the surgeon came in. She was occupied in serving out somesoup to the patients and did not go round with him. She had finished herwork when he returned to where she was standing near the entrance.
"I did not wake him," he said, in answer to her look, "but his pulse isstronger, and the action of his heart regular. There is certainly a goodchance for him. My hopes that there is no vital injury are strengthened.He will, I hope, sleep for hours, perhaps till morning. By that time Imay be able to give a more decided opinion. Now, I think you had betterbe off at once. I can see you have recovered your nerve, but there willbe a dozen fresh nurses here in a few minutes, and I shall clear you allout. Do you feel strong enough to walk home?"
"Oh, yes, Doctor, I may come in the first thing in the morning, mayn'tI?"
"Yes, if you feel equal to it. It is possible," he thought to himself,as he went to the next marquee, "that the poor fellow only regards heras a cousin, but I am greatly mistaken if she has not very much warmerfeelings towards him, though she did so stoutly declare that they werebut old friends."
Mary, putting on her bonnet and cloak, went out. As she did so, a man,in the uniform of the Franc-tireurs, and a young woman approached.
"Pardon, mademoiselle," he said, lifting his cap as he came up to her,"is it possible for friends to visit the wounded?"
Mary glanced at the speaker's companion and at once recognized her. Itwas the face of which she had seen so many drawings in Cuthbert'ssketch-book.
"It is not possible to-day," she said, "except in extreme cases. Therehave been many applicants, but they have all been refused."
"I fear this is an extreme case," Rene, for it was he, urged. "It is acomrade of mine, and the surgeon told me after examining him that he washit very seriously. This lady is his fiancee."
"I know who you mean," Mary said, after a moment's silence, "but shecould not see him even if she were his wife. He is asleep now andeverything depends upon his sleep being unbroken."
"If I could only see him I would not wake him," the woman wailed, whileRene asked--
"Can you tell us if there are any hopes for him?"
"The surgeon says there are some hopes," Mary said, coldly, "but thateverything depends upon his being kept perfectly quiet. However, I haveno power in the matter. I am off duty now, and you had better apply toMrs. Stanmore. She is in charge of the ward. It is the farthest of thethree marquees."
"What is that woman to him?" Minette exclaimed, passionat
ely, as Marywalked on. "She loves him or she hates him. I saw her look at me as youspoke first, and her face changed. She knew me though I did not knowher."
"Oh, that is all fancy, Minette. How can she know Arnold? She is tiredand worn out. Parbleu, they must have had terrible work there since thesortie began. It is getting dark, but it is easy to see how pale andworn out she looked. For my part I would rather go through that fight inthe garden again than work for twenty-four hours in a hospital."
"She knows him," the girl said, positively.
"Well, let us go on. This woman may give you leave to go in."
But Mrs. Stanmore was also firm in her refusal.
"We cannot allow even the nearest relatives to enter," she said, "we areall taken up by duty and cannot have strangers in the wards; but if thepatient is likely to die and wishes to see a friend or relative in thecity we send for him or her. If you will give me your name and address Iwill see that you are sent for should the patient ask for you. The ruleI can assure you is absolute, and I have no power whatever to grantpermission to anyone except in the case I have named."
Minette went away raving, and it needed indeed all Rene's remonstrancesand entreaties to induce her to leave.
"It is clear," he said, "that he cannot be near death; were he so hewould assuredly ask for you. So after all it is good news that you havereceived, and as I told you all along, though the surgeon said that itwas a serious wound, he did not say that it was likely to be fatal, ashe did in the case of Cuthbert Hartington. These army surgeons do notmince matters, and there was no reason why he should not have said atonce to me that the American was likely to die if he thought it would beso."
"I will go to see him to-morrow," she said, with an angry stamp of herfoot. "If the women try to prevent me I will tear their faces. If themen interfere to stop me I will scream so loud that they will be forcedto let me in. It is abominable to keep a woman from the bedside of theman she loves."
"It is of no use you talking in that wild way, Minette," Rene said,sternly; "how do you suppose a hospital is to be managed if every sickman is to have women sitting at his bed. It is childish of you to talkso, and most ungrateful. These foreigners are supporting this ambulanceat their own expense. The ladies are working like slaves to succor ourwounded and you go on like a passionate child because, busy as theyare, they are obliged to adhere to their regulations. At any rate I willcome here with you no more. I am not going to see these kind peopleinsulted."