CHAPTER XII
"GOOD-BYE, RHODA POLLY"
At Chateau Schneider I was received with tumultuary questioning on myreturn from the reed-beds. Where had I been? What had I been doing? Imight easily have got my throat cut and no one would have been sorry. Itwas a scurvy trick I played them, slipping off like that. And soon--Hugh De venter being the loudest and most persistent.
"My friend in whom I trusted," was his cry. His grievance was not that Ihad broken bounds and would give no account of myself, but that I hadsneaked off alone without giving him a chance to come along with me.However, a glance from Rhoda Polly and the smiling response of her eyesshut my ears to all this hubbub. She understood, and that was enough. Iwould, of course, tell her about it, making only a mental reservation inthe little private matter of Jeanne Felix, and the spraying shadowswhich her long lashes cast on her eyes of purple-velvet. With a woman,there is no use of talking of another woman--not at least till thelistener is well over fifty, and even then it must be done withcircumspection.
But I knew my duty, and with another glance at Rhoda Polly I demanded toknow where her father was, and in five minutes was sitting among thechimney-pots with that old fighter and captain of men stuffing a pipebowl and preparing to listen. He nodded his head gravely when I told ofmy meeting with Gaston Cremieux. He grew restless as a caged beasthimself when I described to him the hither-and-yon wolf's prowl of thesullen young men in front of the riding-school. But when I told him ofthe men's resolve to go at once to work, he rose suddenly to his feetwith a shout.
"Jaikes, Irvin, Allerdyce, Brown, Macallister! Here!"
And at his cry these subordinates came running to him like dogs at theshepherd's whistle. Eagerness was in their faces, and confidence intheir leader showed in their eyes.
"Young Cawdor has brought good news," he said. "The men are coming back.It may not be for long, but they are coming. They have taken the terms,and now I shall have to fight the masters single-handed. However, I canmanage that. Run, fellows! Get the squads together. Set the furnacesgoing, and steam up in the boilers. It will be the easier for the menwhen they come in if they find everything ready for them. A few willtroop in first in a non-committal way, then will set in a steady trickleof the secretly willing, and lastly the factory benches will fill upwith a rush. In two days we will have the ateliers working at highpressure, and we may begin to send out our orders by Saturday."
The engineering sub-chiefs swung their hats in the air and yelled. Itwas the best of news for them, and they did not even wait to ask how Ichanced to be so well informed. Dennis Deventer had doubtless assuredhimself of that. That was his business, not theirs. They rattled downthe ladder one after the other as quickly as a barrel would roll thesame distance. They simply fell through the trap-door and disappearedfrom sight. Presently we could see them leading their emergency gangsacross the courtyard to the entrance of the works. In Jack Jaikes'scontingent I noticed the broad shoulders and rough blond head of HughDeventer, towering like a Viking among the wiry Clydeside and beardedTynemouth men about him.
His father must have noticed him too, for he turned to me with a smile.
"Yonder goes our Hugh. He is a strong lad, but has no spring. He fallsall over himself at present. If you are still set on soldiering, you cantake him with you. He has little sense as yet, but I can see that hewill do what you tell him."
"Thank you, sir," I said; "war is a stranger business than we youngfellows dream of. I cannot be responsible for accidents, but if youtrust me with Hugh--well, he is my comrade, and I shall look after himas myself."
He held out his hand, after first glancing about to see that we were notoverlooked, and grasped my fingers. Such demonstrations of emotion wereby no means in his way.
"With Hugh it is a case of thews and brawn," he said. "When it comes tothe marching, see that you make him carry your musket as well as hisown. He has no heavy load in his top story."
Of course I had to see Rhoda Polly before our final marching off towardsthe north. As I came down the great front steps of the Chateau SchneiderI saw her crossing the lawn far away to the right. She was going in thedirection of the vegetable garden, and I stood still on the steps till Iwatched her into the potting-house. With her hand on the latch she casta look over her shoulder in my direction.
"Amaryllis desires to be first seen," I muttered, and after acomprehensive tour of the grounds I approached the potting-house fromthe rear.
Rhoda Polly was sitting on a bench with peat and leaf-mould in littleboxes about her, and a red flowerpot held firmly between her knees whileshe kneaded the black flaky mass down with urgent little knuckles.
"If I don't get those Alan Richardson roses to do this year--why, thedevil fly away with me!"
She spoke in French, and the words had not the same sound as in English.Something gay and Rhoda Polly-ish rang cheerfully in my heart.
"Really you should not swear!" said I. "What would MissBalfour-Lansdowne say to that at Selborne College?"
"Oh, sometimes we said a good deal worse than that on the hockey ground,or in the heat of an argument. Besides, if you did not want to hear, youneed not have followed me."
"Rhoda Polly," I said, "you know that I followed you because you made mea signal that you wanted to talk to me."
"Yes, I know," owned up Rhoda Polly, who scorned concealment. "Well,what have you to tell me now that you are here? I let you go just nowand unbosom yourself to the Paternal without complaining. That was onlyplaying the game, but certainly you owe it to me to stand and deliver assoon as you got clear."
"Well, and here I am, Rhoda Polly--which will you have--plainnarrative--question and answer--the Socratic method, or a judiciousmixture of the two?"
I knew the inquiry would resolve itself into the latter. Rhoda Pollywent on with the potting of her Alan Richardson, biting her under lip atcritical points, but ever and anon flashing a pertinent query at me overthe boxes of mould without once raising her head.
With the exception of my talks with Jeanne and the harmless littlephilandering we had indulged in to pass the time, I confided the wholeof my day's adventures to Rhoda Polly. I told her also of the permissionthat her father had given that Hugh should go north and join the newarmies with me.
Then at last Rhoda Polly did lift her eyes with a vividness of reproachin them.
"You cannot find enough to do here?" she said. "You trust these men atthe works? I tell you they are not to be trusted. I know them betterthan either you or my father, I have heard their women-folk talking, andI know what they mean to do."
"I know what they _say_ they mean to do," I retorted. "I also have heardthem in their cups, but it is only folly and emptiness."
"Do not be too sure," she said, patting the flowerpot round the edgesand squinting down at it as if it were a work of art symmetricallyfinished. "I warn you we may need you here sooner than you think, andthen Gaston Cremieux may not be so friendly as he is to-day."
I asked her why, but she only bent more over her work and shook herhead. It had been clear to me from Cremieux's questions that he was inlove with Rhoda Polly, and now from Rhoda Polly's prophecy of his futureunfriendliness that she had made up her mind to reject him. But, in themeantime, it was my clear duty to go on and do what I could in the army.
We could not hope to defeat the Germans, but at least every additionalman in the ranks added to the chance of withstanding them. If we couldonly hold them at bay till the politicians did their work, all thispeaceful Southland would be spared the horrors of war and the morewearing pains of occupation and pillage.
I said this to Rhoda Polly and she could not help agreeing. Her assent,however, came from her clear head and trained intelligence, but herheart was still unconvinced that Hugh and I ought to go, leaving thathouseful of women in Chateau Schneider. All this was perhaps naturalenough, and certainly it made me feel warmer within to know that RhodaPolly would regret me.
"I owe you a grudge," she said, as she stood up and rubbed the blackcrumbly moul
d briskly from her hands, "for without you we should atleast have had Hugh. He would never have thought of going by himself."
Rhoda Polly had finished with her roses. She set out the boxes in a row,and then stood up facing me. Her eyes were steady and level like aman's--I mean a man of the North. They did not droop and flutter likeJeanne's at the Ferry. Her breast did not heave nor her full throatswell. The pent-up emotion in Rhoda Polly's bosom found no suchcommonplace feminine vents. Only the firm lines about her mouth betrayedher, and perhaps a certain moist luminousness of eye.
"I would not hinder you, Angus Cawdor," she said steadily, "let a man dowhat he knows he ought. But at least you owe it to me to come back thevery day the war is over. It is not till then that the storm here willbreak. I have it from the women. They advise us to go out of thecountry, but I have a better plan in my head. You must be here to helpme carry it out."
"I shall be here, Rhoda Polly, if I get through all right!"
"If you get through all right----?" The words fell uncertainly.
"If I live, Rhoda Polly."
"Ah, if you live," repeated the girl, mechanically holding out her hand.And even as I looked, the bold bright look in her eyes was dimmed, as apool greys over with the first coming of a breeze.
And thus I took my real farewell of Rhoda Polly. There was some of theblack mould on my fingers as I went over to the shops to search for HughDeventer.