CHAPTER V
MOTHER GERVAISE
Neither Ruth nor the driver was thrown out of the stalled ambulance.But Charlie jumped out in a hurry and held out his hand to the girl.
"You got to beat it away from here, Miss Ruth," he urged. "Another ofthose shells is likely to drop any minute. Hurry!"
Ruth had no desire to stay at that perilous corner of the road; butwhen she started away from the stalled car she found that she was alone.
"Aren't you coming, Charlie Bragg?" she demanded, turning back.
"Go on! Go on!" he urged her. "I've got to get this old flivver outof the mud. Keep right on to a little house you'll see on the leftunder the bank. Don't go past it in the dark. That's MotherGervaise's cottage. It's out of reach of the Boches' shells."
"But you'll be killed, Charlie Bragg!" wailed the girl, suddenlyrealizing all the peril of their situation.
"Haven't ever been killed yet," he returned. "I tell you I've got toget this flivver out of the hole. These supplies have got to be takento that field hospital. They're needed. I can't leave 'em here andrun."
"But you expect me to run!" burst out Ruth, in sudden indignation.
"You can't help here. No use your taking a chance. You'll be inenough danger later. Now, you go on, Miss Ruth. Scoot! Here comesanother!"
They heard the whine of the flying shell almost on top of the thud ofthe distant gun. Charlie seized her hand and they ran up the road forseveral yards. Then he stopped short, as the shell burst--this timefar to the left of the stalled ambulance.
"Gosh!" he exclaimed. "You've got me rattled, too. Here! I'll goalong to Mother Gervaise with you. Some of the fellows may be thereand I can get help. Come on."
"Oh, Charlie!" murmured the girl. "I'm afraid for you."
"Trying to make me a quitter, are you?" he demanded. "Don't you knowthat if the Boches get you, they get you, and that's all there is toit? And one way or another that fliver's got to be got out of thathole."
Ruth was silenced. This young fellow--"boy" he called him in her ownmind--had a quality of courage that shamed her. It was just the kindof bravery needed for the work he was doing in the war--a measure ofrecklessness that keeps one from counting the cost too exactly.Charlie Bragg had a philosophy of his own that kept him cheerful in theface of peril and was eminently practical at just this time.
He hurried her along the road, his hand under her elbow, seemingly ableto see in the dark like a cat. But it was all black before Ruth'seyes, and she stumbled more than once. Her knees felt weak.
"I--I _am_ scared, Charlie," she confessed, almost in a whisper.
"Yep. So was I, at first. But you know a fellow can't give in to it.If he does he'll never get to be a first-class ambulance driver. I betsome of the boys will be here at Mother Gervaise's and I can get help."
Another moment, and they seemed to turn a corner in the road and Ruthsaw a small patch of light at the left of the roadway. She made it outto be an open window--the swinging shutter flung back against the wall.There was no glass in the opening.
"There it is," Charlie said. "You might have passed it right by,alone. You see, the house is close up against the high bank, and thehill is between us and the front. The Boches can't drop a shell here.It's a regular wayfarer's rest. There's a car--and another. We'll beall right now."
Ruth saw the outlines of the two cars parked beside the road. Theyoung fellow led her directly toward the patch of yellow lamplight.She saw finally a broad, thatched cottage, the eaves of the high-peakedroof almost within reach as they came to the door.
Charlie Bragg knocked, then, without waiting for a summons to enter,lifted the wooden latch and shoved the sagging door open.
"Hello, folks!" he said. "Got shelter for a couple of babes in thewoods? I got stalled down there at the Devil's Corner, and---- Let meintroduce Miss Fielding. She's real folks like ourselves."
He had pushed Ruth in and entered behind her. Two young men--plainlyAmericans--rose from the table where they were eating. A squarelybuilt woman bent over the fire at the end of the room. She did notlook around from her culinary task.
"Hello, Bragg!" was the response from the other ambulance drivers.
"Cub Holdness and Mr. Francis Dwyer," said Charlie, introducing thetwo. "I've got stalled, fellows."
He swiftly told of the accident and the two young men left the table.The Frenchwoman turned and waddled toward the table, stirring spoon inhand and volubly objecting.
"_Non, non_!" she cried. "You would spoil the so-good ragout. If youdo not eat it while it is hot----"
"The ragout can be heated over," put in Charlie. "But if the Bochesget my car with a shell--good-night! Come on, fellows. And bring arope. I believe we three can pull the old girl out."
The boys tramped out of the cottage. Mother Gervaise turned to Ruthand stared at her with very bright, black eyes.
She was a broad-faced woman, brown and hearty-looking, and with a moreintelligent appearance than many of the peasants Ruth had seen. Shewore sabots with her skirt tucked up to clear her bare ankles. Herteeth were broad and strong and white, and she showed them well as shesmiled.
"The mademoiselle is _Americaine_?" she said. "Like these_ambulanciers_? Ah! brave boys, these. And mademoiselle is of the_Croix Rouge_, is it not?"
"I am working in the hospital at Clair," Ruth told her. "I am on myway with supplies to a station nearer the front."
"_Ma foi_!" exclaimed Mother Gervaise. "This has been a bad business.You will sup, Mademoiselle, yes?"
"I will, indeed. The accident has not taken away my appetite."
"Isn't it so? We must eat, no matter what next happens," said thewoman. "Me, now! I am alone. My whole family have been destroyed.My husband and his brother--both have been killed. I had no children.Now I think it is as well, for children are not going to have muchchance in France for years to come. All my neighbors have scattered,too."
"Then you have always lived here? Even before the war?" Ruth asked.
"_Oui, Mademoiselle_. Always. I was born right in that corner yonder,on a straw pallet. The best bed my mother had. We have grown richsince those days," and she shrugged her shoulders.
"I was an only child and the farm and cot came to me. Of course, I hadplenty of the young men come to make love to me and my farm. I wouldhave none of that kind. Some said I went through the wood and pickedup a crooked stick after all. But Pierre and me--_ma foi_! We werehappy, even if the old father and Pierre's brother must come here tolive, too.
"The old father he die before the Germans come. I thank _le bon Dieu_for that. Pierre and his brother were mobilized and gone before thehorde of _les Boches_ come along this road. I am here alone, then. Ibegin making coffee and soup for them. Well, yes! They are men, too,and become hungry and exhausted. I please them and they treat me well.I learn what it means to make money--cash-money; and so I stay. Moneyis good, Mademoiselle.
"I might have wished poison into their soup; but that would not havekilled them. And had I doctored it myself I would have been hung, andbeen no better off. So I made friends," and she smiled grimly.
"But I learned how boastful men could be--especially Germans. One--hewas a major and one of the nobility--stayed here overnight. Hepromised to take me back to Germany when the war was over--which wouldbe in a few weeks. They were to be in Paris in a few days then.
"He promised I would be proud when I became all German. France, hesaid, would never be a separate country again. For most of thepeople--my people--he said, were weaklings. They would emigrate toAmerica and the remaining would intermarry with Germans. So all Francewould become Germany.
"When he was awake, he was full of bombast, that major! When he wasasleep he snored outrageously. Ugh! For the first time in my life Ihate anybody," declared Mother Gervaise, shuddering.
"But he paid me well for his lodging. And his men paid me for thesoup. They marched past steadily for two days.
Then they were goneand the country all about was peaceful for a week. At the end of thattime they come back."
Here Mother Gervaise smiled, but it was a victorious smile. Her facelighted up and her eyes shone again.
"Pellmell back they came," she repeated. "It was a retreat. Many hadlost their guns and their packs. I had no soup for them. I said I hadlost my poulets and all. But it was not so. I had them hidden.
"The orderly of my major came in here, threw up his hands, and shouted:'No Paris! No Paris!' And then he tramped on with his fellows. Theychopped the trees and blew up many houses. But mine was marked, as theBoches did in those first days: 'These are good people. Let them be.'So I was not molested," finished Mother Gervaise.
"Now, sit you down, Mademoiselle, at the table. Here where I havespread a napkin. The ragout----
"Bless us and save us!" she added, as a sudden roar of voices soundedoutside the cot and the throaty rattle of a motor engine. "Whom havewe here?"
She went to the door and flung it open. Ruth hesitated at the chair inwhich she had been about to be seated. Outside she saw bunched severaluniformed men. They were hilariously pushing into the cottage,thrusting the excited Mother Gervaise aside.