interlude(玛丽罗茨莱因哈特惊人的幕间表演)-第41章
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more and more wounded men。 But to the little house of mercy came the
small odds and ends in increasing numbers。 Medical men were scarce； and
badly overworked。 There was talk； for a time； of sending a surgeon to the
little house； but it came to nothing。 La Panne was not far away； and all the
surgeons they could get there were not too many。
So the little house went on much as before。 Henri had moved to the
mill。 He was at work again； and one day； in the King's villa and quietly；
because of many reasons； Henri； a very white and erect Henri； received a
second medal； the highest for courage that could be given。
He did not teli Sara Lee。
But though he and the men who served under him worked hard； they
could not always perform miracles。 The German planes still outnumbered
the Allied ones。 They had grown more daring with the spring； too； and
whatever Henri might learn of ground operations； he could not foretell
those of the air。
On a moonlight night in early May Sara Lee； setting out her dressings；
heard a man running up the street。 Rene challenged him sharply； only to
step aside。 It was Henri。 He burst in on Sara Lee。
〃To the cellar； mademoiselle！〃 he said。 〃A bombardment？〃 asked
Sara Lee。
〃From the air。 They may pass over； but there are twelve taubes； and
they are circling overhead。〃
The first bomb dropped then in the street。 It was white moonlight and
the Germans must have seen that there were no troops。 Probably it was as
Henri said later； that they had learned of the little house； and since it
brought such aid and comfort as might be it was to be destroyed。
The house of the mill went with the second bomb。 Then followed a
deafening uproar as plane after plane dropped its shells on the dead town。
Marie and Sara Lee were in the cellar by that time； but the cellar was
scarcely safer than the floor above。 From a bombardment by shells from
guns miles away there was protection。 From a bomb dropped from the sky；
the floors above were practically useless。
Only Henri and Rene remained on the street floor。 Henri was
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extinguishing lights。 In the passage Rene stood； not willing to take refuge
until Henri； whom he adored； had done so。 For a moment the uproar
ceased； and in a spirit of bravado Rene stepped out into the moonlight and
made a gesture of derision into the air。
He fell there； struck by a piece of splintered shell。
〃Come； Rene！〃 Henri called。 〃The brave are those who live to fight
again； not …〃
But Rene's figure against the moonlight was gone。 Henri ran to the
doorway then and found him lying； his head on the little step where he had
been wont to sit and whittle and sing his Tipperaree。 He was dead。 Henri
carried him in and laid him in the little passage； very reverently。 Then he
went below。
〃Where is Rene？〃 Sara Lee asked from the darkness。
〃A foolish boy；〃 said Henri； a catch in his throat。 〃He is； I think；
watching these fiends of the air； from some shelter。〃
〃There is no shelter；〃 shivered the girl。
He groped for her hand in the darkness； and so they stood； hand in
hand； like two children； waiting for what might come。
It was not until the thing was over that he told her。 He had gone up
first and so that she would not happen on his silent figure unwarned； had
carried Rene to the open upper floor； where he lay； singularly peaceful；
face up to the awful beauty of the night。
〃Good night； little brother；〃 Henri said to him； and left him there with
a heavy heart。 Never again would Rene sit and whittle on the doorstep and
sing his tuneless Tipperaree。 Never again would he gaze with boyish
adoring eyes at Sara Lee as she moved back and forth in the little house。
Henri stared up at the sky。 The moon looked down； cold。 and cruelly
bright； on the vanishing squadron of death； on the destroyed town and on
the boy's white face。 Somewhere； Henri felt； vanishing like the German
taubes； but to peace instead of war； was moving Rene's brave and smiling
spirit … a boyish angel； eager and dauntless； and still looking up。
Henri took off his cap and crossed himself。
Another sentry took Rene's place the next day； but the little house had
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lost something it could not regain。 And a greater loss was to come。
Jean brought out the mail that day。 For Sara Lee； moving about silent
and red…eyed； there was a letter from Mr。 Travers。 He inclosed a hundred
pounds and a clipping from a London newspaper entitled The Little House
of Mercy。
〃Evidently；〃 he wrote； 〃you were right and we were wrong。 One…half
of the inclosed check is from my wife； who takes this method of showing
her affectionate gratitude。 The balance is from myself。 Once； some months
ago； I said to you that almost you restored my faith in human nature。 To…
day I may say that； in these hours of sorrow for us all； what you have done
and are doing has brought into my gray day a breath of hope。〃
There was another clipping； but no comment。 It recorded the death of a
Reginald Alexander Travers； aged thirty。
It was then that Sara Lee； who was by way of thinking for herself
those days； and of thinking clearly； recognized the strange new self…
abnegation of the English … their attitude not so much of suppressing their
private griefs as of refusing to obtrude them。 A strongly individualistic
people； they were already commencing to think nationally。 Grief was a
private matter； to be borne privately。 To the world they must present an
unbroken front； an unshaken and unshakable faith。 A new attitude； and a
strange one； for grumbling； crochety； gouty…souled England。
A people who had for centuries insisted not only on its rights but on its
privileges was now giving as freely as ever it had demanded。 It was as
though； having hoarded all those years； it had but been hoarding against
the day of payment。 As it had received it gave … in money； in effort； in life。
And without pretext。
So the Traverses； having given up all that had made life for them； sent
a clipping only； and no comment。 Sara Lee； through' a mist of tears； saw
them alone in their drawing…room； having tea as usual； and valiantly
speaking of small things； and bravely facing the future； but never； in the
bitterest moments； making complaint or protest。
Would America； she wondered； if her hour came； be so brave？ Harvey
had a phrase for such things。 It was 〃stand the gaff。〃 Would America stand
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the gaff so well？ Courage was America's watchword； but a courage of the
body rather than of the soul … physical courage； not moral。 What would
happen if America entered the strnggle and the papers were filled； as were
the British and the French； with long casualty lists； each name a knife
thrust somewhere？
She wondered。
And then； before long； it was Sara Lee's turn to； stand the gaff。 There
was another letter； a curiously incoherent one from Harvey's sister。 She
referred to something that the society had done； and ho
