Just as Nona and Barbara had anticipated, Mildred Thornton rode away with her two patients in one of the first motor ambulances that hurriedly withdrew from the field hospital to remove the wounded from the scene of danger. But by another strange mischance Eugenia was left behind.
She had, of course, continued to assist with the hospital work so long as there was anything for her to do. However, she had previously insisted that she be allowed to depart in one of the last of the motor vans. For the truth is she was unwilling to desert the neighborhood until Nona and Barbara, having returned from the farmhouse, were able to go along with her.
So during the last quarter of an hour, when only the tents were left to be piled upon the last trucks, Eugenia, having no more duties to perform, wandered a short[193] distance away. She only went about an eighth of a mile along the path that led in the direction of the farmhouse and there sat down under a tree to wait for the other two girls and to watch for a prearranged signal.
Until she began to rest Eugenia really had no idea of how tired she was. She had been up and at work since five o’clock that morning under conditions that would have exhausted the strongest person in the world.
Now there were deafening noises reverberating all about her, while over her head hung a heavy pall of smoke, sometimes darkening the atmosphere, but now and then lifting enough to permit a shaft of light from the November sun to shine through.
At present the firing suggested that the fighting was still at some distance away, nevertheless the girl realized that the battle must be drawing nearer and nearer, for already a portion of the retreating French army had passed within sight of the disbanded hospital.
[194]
Eugenia was not conscious of being as greatly depressed by the French defeat as the other three American Red Cross girls had been. Her chief thought was the appalling increase of the wounded that this day’s battle must have caused. At this moment there must be hundreds, perhaps thousands of boys and men lying wounded and dying in the fields and trenches with no one to bring them aid.
“If only one could do more to help!” the girl murmured, clasping her hands wearily together in her lap, but at the same time keeping her eyes fixed upon the path ahead.
“Why in the world don’t those children come on?” she next asked impatiently. “Certainly they should not have been trusted to undertake our packing. I don’t doubt they are putting our new Paris clothes into the bags!”
As she made this speech, believing that she heard some one approaching, Eugenia half rose. Then the next instant she was up and standing with her back braced against the tree, upon which she had been previously resting. For bounding toward her,[195] with his tongue hanging out and his head lolling from side to side, was the dog belonging to Captain Henri Castaigne.
After her past experience it was impossible for Eugenia not to feel nervous, for the silver-gray brute was of enormous size and strength. Yet when the dog reached her side, for the second time he crouched down at Eugenia’s feet. This time, however, instead of hanging down his head, he turned his gray-brown eyes upward upon the girl’s with such a depth of entreaty that, without knowing why, she was moved.
“It is all right, Duke, I forgive you all the past, even if I have not forgiven your master!” she exclaimed, speaking in a friendly tone, although scorning to use the dog’s French name. “But do run home now to your mistress. For this, I trust, is a final farewell between us, as we shall probably never meet again.”
Even though she spoke thus lightly, Eugenia was conscious that there might be a possible tragedy in the fact that Duke could not return to his master. Perhaps Captain Castaigne was even now among the missing.
[196]
However, the great Dane gave no sign of having heard Eugenia’s command, but instead gave her another look of profound appeal. When she showed no indication of having understood his meaning, he got up and caught her dress firmly between his teeth. Then not ungently but authoritatively he began dragging her along with him.
For the first moment Eugenia was too surprised to make any special resistance. The next she called out angrily to the dog to let go; and then, finding he had no idea of obeying her, tore her coat from between his clenched teeth.
Duke’s answer was to gaze at her reproachfully and then to gather a larger portion of her clothing in his mouth and start off faster the second time, with the girl obliged to follow.
Naturally Eugenia was angry. This objectionable dog appeared designed by fate to be a nuisance to her.............