CHAPTER VIII
THE CHOCOLATE PEDDLER
There was the flash of a lamp ahead.
"Here we are!" cried Charlie Bragg, in a tone of relief, bringing thecar to a rocking stop.
Ruth Fielding could see but little as she looked out from under thehood of the ambulance. Yet she imagined there was a ridge of landbehind the compound at the entrance to which they had halted.
Charlie got out and helped her down. A second man appeared in thegateway of the stockade beside the sentinel. The girl approached withthe ambulance driver, who said:
"Here she is, Doc. And a load of stuff she says you'll need. This isMiss Fielding--and she's a regular good fellow. Doctor Monteith, MissFielding."
"I am glad to see you," the surgeon said warmly, taking the bag fromRuth and seizing her cold hand in his warm clasp. "We are very busyhere and very short of supplies. Our stores were utterly destroyedwhen----"
He did not finish his statement, but ushered her into the compound.There were a few twinkling lights. She saw that there were a number ofhuts within this enclosure, each being, of course, a ward.
They left Charlie Bragg and an orderly to remove the supplies from theambulance while the surgeon took Ruth to the hut that was to be herown. On the way they passed a crushed and shapeless mass that mightonce, the girl thought, have been another hut.
"Is that----?" she asked, pointing.
"Yes. The shell dropped squarely on it. We got her out from under thewreckage after putting out the fire. She was killed instantly," saidthe surgeon. "You are not frightened, Miss Fielding?"
"Why--yes," she said gravely. "I have, however, been frightenedbefore. We have had night air raids at Clair. But, as Charlie Braggsays, 'I have not been killed yet.'"
"That is the way to look at it," he said cheerfully. "It's the onlyway. Back in all our minds is the expectation of sudden death, Isuppose. Only--if it _is_ sudden! That is what we pray for--if it isto come."
"I know," Ruth said softly. "But let us keep from thinking of it. Whois this lady?" she asked a moment later.
"Ah!" said the gentlemanly surgeon, seeing the figure in the doorway ofthe new supply hut. "It is our matron, Mrs. Strang. A lovely lady. Iwill leave you to her kindness."
He introduced the girl to the elderly woman, who examined Ruth withfrank curiosity as she entered the hut.
"You are a real American, I presume," the woman said, smiling.
"I hope so."
"Not to be frightened by what has happened here already?"
"We expect such sad happenings, do we not?"
"Yes. We must. But this was a terrible thing. They say," the matronobserved, "that it was the result of treachery."
"Oh! You do not mean----?"
"They say a man has sold a map of this whole sector to the Boches. A_man_--faugh! There are such creatures in all armies. Perhaps thereare more among our forces than we know of. They say many of foreignblood among the Expeditionary Force are secretly against the war andare friends of the enemy."
"I cannot believe that!" cried Ruth. "We are becoming tainted with thefears of the French. Because they have found so many spies!"
"We will find just as many, perhaps," said Mrs. Strang, bitterly."France is a republic and the United States is a republic. Doesfreedom breed traitors, I wonder?"
"I guess," Ruth said gently, "that we may have been too kind to certainclasses of immigrants to the United States. Unused to liberty theyspell it l-i-c-e-n-s-e."
"There are people other than ignorant foreigners who must be watched inthese awful times," the matron said bitterly. "There are teachers inour colleges who sneer at patriotism just as they sneer at religion.Whisper, Miss Fielding! I am told that the very man they suspect inthis dreadful thing--the American who has sold a map of this sector tothe Germans--came from one of our foremost colleges, and is an Americanbred and born."
Ruth could not speak in answer to this. Her heart throbbed painfullyin her throat. To so accuse Tom Cameron of heartless and dastardlytreachery!
She could not defend him. To defend was to accuse! If everybodybelieved this awful thing----
Ruth was just as sure of Tom Cameron's guiltlessness as she was of herown faithfulness. But how damning the circumstantial evidence must beagainst him!
She was thankful she heard nothing more of this thing that night.Charlie and other men brought in the supplies. She could not arrangethem then, for she was exhausted. She only waited to lock the doorwhen all the supplies were placed, and then found the hut where thewomen of the Red Cross slept.
She had here a narrow cot, a locker and chair, and the privacy of amovable screen. Nothing else.
This was real "soldiering," as she soon found. Her experiences at Lyseand at Clair had been nothing like this. In one town she had lived ata pension, while at the latter hospital she had had her own little cellin the annex.
However, the girl of the Red Mill never thought of complaining. Ifthese other earnest girls and women could stand such rough experienceswhy not she?
She slept and dreamed of home--of the Red Mill and Uncle Jabez and AuntAlvirah Boggs, with her murmured, "Oh, my back! and oh, my bones!" Shewas again a child and roamed the woods and fields along the LumanoRiver with Tom Cameron and Helen.
"I wish I were at home! I wish I were at home!" was her waking thought.
It was the first time she had whispered that wish since leaving theStates. But never before had her heart been so sore and her spirit sodepressed.
When, some weeks before, she had believed Tom Cameron seriouslywounded, she had been frightened and anxious only. Now the whole worldseemed to have gone wrong. There was nobody with whom she could conferabout this awful trouble.
She arose, and, after making her toilet and before breakfast, went outof the hut. She beheld an entirely different looking landscape fromthat which she was used to about Clair.
Through the gateway of the compound she saw a rutted road, with dunfields beyond. Behind, the ridge rose abruptly between the hospitaland the battle front.
A red-headed young Irishman in khaki stood at the gateway, or trampedup and down with his rifle on his shoulder. He could not look at thegirl without grinning, and Ruth smiled in return.
"'Tis a broth of a mornin', Miss," he whispered, as she drew near. "Beyou the new lady Charlie Bra-a-agg brought over last night?"
"Yes. I am to take the place of the girl who--who----"
She faltered and could not go on. The Irish lad nodded and blinkedrapidly.
"Bedad!" he muttered. "We'll make the Boches pay for that when we goover the top. Never fear."
He halted abruptly, became preternaturally grave, and presented arms.The young surgeon, Dr. Monteith, who had met Ruth the night before,tramped in from a morning walk.
"Good morning, Miss Fielding. Did you sleep?"
She confessed that she did. He smiled, but there was a deep creasebetween his eyes.
"I am glad you are up betimes. We need some of your supplies. Can Isend the orderlies with the schedule soon?"
"Oh, yes! I will try to be ready in half an hour," she cried, turningquickly toward the hut, of which she carried the key.
"Wait! Wait!" he called. "No such hurry as all that. You have notbreakfasted, I imagine? Well, never neglect your food. It is vital.I shall not send to you until half-past eight."
He saluted and went on. Ruth went to the hut in which the nursesmessed. The night shift had just come in and she found them apleasant, if serious, lot of women. And of all nationalities byblood--truly American!
There was an air about the nurses in the field hospital different fromthose she had met in institutions farther back from the battle line.There were serious girls there, but there was always a spatter ofirresponsibles as well.
Here the nurses were like soldiers--and soldiers in active anddangerous service. There was a marked reserve about them and anexpression of countenance that reminded Ruth of some
of the nuns shehad seen at home--a serenity that seemed to announce that they hadgiven over worldly thoughts and that their minds were fixed upon higherthings.
There was a hushed way of speaking, too, that impressed Ruth. It wasas though they listened all the time for something. Was it for thewhine of the shells that sometimes came over the ridge and droppedperilously near the hospital?
As the day went on, however, the girl found that there was considerablymore cheerfulness and light-heartedness in and about the hospital thanshe supposed would be found here. Having straightened out her own hutand supplied the various wards with what they needed for the day, shewent about, getting acquainted.
It was a large hospital and there were many huts. In each of theseshelters were from two dozen to forty patients. A nurse and an orderlytook care of each hut, with a night attendant. Everybody was busy.
There were many visitors, too--visitors of all kinds and for allimaginary reasons. People came in automobiles; these had passes frommilitary authorities to see and bring comforts to the wounded. Andthere were more modest visitors who came on foot and brought baskets ofjams and jellies and cakes and home-made luxuries that were eagerlywelcomed by the wounded. For soldiers everywhere--whether well orill--develop a sweet tooth.
Into the compound about midafternoon Ruth saw a tall figure slouch witha basket on his arm. It had begun to drizzle, as it so often doesduring the winter in Northern France, and this man wore a bedrabbledcloak--a brigandish-looking cloak--over his blue smock.
She had never seen such a figure before; and yet, there was somethingabout the man that seemed familiar to the keen-eyed girl.
"Who is he?" she asked a nurse standing with her at the door of a ward,and pointing to the man slouching along with his basket across the openway.
"Oh, that? It is Nicko, the chocolate peddler," said the nursecarelessly. "A harmless fellow. Not quite right--here," and shetapped her own forehead significantly. "You understand? They say helived here when first the Boches used their nasty gas, and he wascaught in a cellar where a gas bomb exploded, and it affected hisbrain. It does that sometimes, you know," she added sadly.
Ruth's eyes had followed the chocolate seller intently. Around acorner of a hut swung the surgeon, who was already the girl's friend.He all but ran against the slouching figure, and he spoke sharply tothe man.
For an instant the chocolate peddler straightened. He stood, indeed,in a very soldierly fashion. Then, as the quick-tempered surgeonstrode on, Nicko bowed. He bowed from the hips--and Ruth gasped as shesaw the obeisance. Only yesterday she had seen a man bow in that sameway!