[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

joli, n'est-ce pas?" She took the scissors that hung by a ribbon from her belt, cut one of the flowers and stuck it
in his buttonhole. "Voilà." She made a little flourish with her thin hand.
Stepping into the street, he turned to shut the wooden door after him, and heard a soft stir in the dark
tool-house at his elbow. From among the rakes and spades a child's frightened face was staring out at him. She
was sitting on the ground with her lap full of baby kittens. He caught but a glimpse of her dull, pale face.
VI
The next morning Claude awoke with such a sense of physical well-being as he had not had for a long time.
The sun was shining brightly on the white plaster walls and on the red tiles of the floor. Green jalousies,
half-drawn, shaded the upper part of the two windows. Through their slats, he could see the forking branches
of an old locust tree that grew by the gate. A flock of pigeons flew over it, dipping and mounting with a sharp
twinkle of silver wings. It was good to lie again in a house that was cared for by women. He must have felt
that even in his sleep, for when he opened his eyes he was thinking about Mahailey and breakfast and summer
mornings on the farm. The early stillness was sweet, and the feeling of dry, clean linen against his body.
There was a smell of lavender about his warm pillow. He lay still for fear of waking Lieutenant Gerhardt. This
was the sort of peace one wanted to enjoy alone. When he rose cautiously on his elbow and looked at the other
bed, it was empty. His companion must have dressed and slipped out when day first broke. Somebody else
who liked to enjoy things alone; that looked hopeful. But now that he had the place to himself, he decided to
get up. While he was dressing he could see old M. Joubert down in the garden, watering the plants and vines,
raking the sand fresh and smooth, clipping off dead leaves and withered flowers and throwing them into a
wheelbarrow. These people had lost both their sons in the war, he had been told, and now they were taking
care of the property for their grandchildren,--two daughters of the elder son. Claude saw Gerhardt come into
the garden, and sit down at the table under the trees, where they had their dinner last night. He hurried down
to join him. Gerhardt made room for him on the bench.
"Do you always sleep like that? It's an accomplishment. I made enough noise when I dressed,--kept dropping
things, but it never reached you."
Madame Joubert came out of the kitchen in a purple flowered morning gown, her hair in curl-papers under a
lace cap. She brought the coffee herself, and they sat down at the unpainted table without a cloth, and drank it
out of big crockery bowls. They had fresh milk with it,--the first Claude had tasted in a long while, and sugar
which Gerhardt produced from his pocket. The old cook had her coffee sitting in the kitchen door, and on the
One of Ours 140
step, at her feet, sat the strange, pale little girl.
Madame Joubert amiably addressed herself to Claude; she knew that Americans were accustomed to a
different sort of morning repast, and if he wished to bring bacon from the camp, she would gladly cook it for
him. She had even made pancakes for officers who stayed there before. She seemed pleased, however, to learn
that Claude had had enough of these things for awhile. She called David by his first name, pronouncing it the
French way, and when Claude said he hoped she would do as much for him, she said, Oh, yes, that his was a
very good French name, "mais un peu, un peu... romanesque," at which he blushed, not quite knowing
whether she were making fun of him or not.
"It is rather so in English, isn't it?" David asked.
"Well, it's a sissy name, if you mean that."
"Yes, it is, a little," David admitted candidly. The day's work on the parade ground was hard, and Captain
Maxey's men were soft, felt the heat,--didn't size up well with the Kansas boys who had been hardened by
service. The Colonel wasn't pleased with B Company and detailed them to build new barracks and extend the
sanitation system. Claude got out and worked with the men. Gerhardt followed his example, but it was easy to
see that he had never handled lumber or tin-roofing before. A kind of rivalry seemed to have sprung up
between him and Claude, neither of them knew why.
Claude could see that the sergeants and corporals were a little uncertain about Gerhardt. His laconic speech,
never embroidered by the picturesque slang they relished, his gravity, and his rare, incredulous smile, alike
puzzled them. Was the new officer a dude? Sergeant Hicks asked of his chum, Dell Able. No, he wasn't a
dude. Was he a swellhead? No, not at all; but he wasn't a good mixer. He was "an Easterner"; what more he
was would develop later. Claude sensed something unusual about him. He suspected that Gerhardt knew a
good many things as well as he knew French, and that he tried to conceal it, as people sometimes do when
they feel they are not among their equals; this idea nettled him. It was Claude who seized the opportunity to
be patronizing, when Gerhardt betrayed that he was utterly unable to select lumber by given measurements.
The next afternoon, work on the new barracks was called off because of rain. Sergeant Hicks set about getting
up a boxing match, but when he went to invite the lieutenants, they had both disappeared. Claude was
tramping toward the village, determined to get into the big wood that had tempted him ever since his arrival.
The highroad became the village street, and then, at the edge of the wood, became a country road again. A
little farther on, where the shade grew denser, it split up into three wagon trails, two of them faint and little
used. One of these Claude followed. The rain had dwindled to a steady patter, but the tall brakes growing up
in the path splashed him to the middle, and his feet sank in spongy, mossy earth. The light about him, the very
air, was green. The trunks of the trees were overgrown with a soft green moss, like mould. He was wondering
whether this forest was not always a damp, gloomy place, when suddenly the sun broke through and shattered
the whole wood with gold. He had never seen anything like the quivering emerald of the moss, the silky green
of the dripping beech tops. Everything woke up; rabbits ran across the path, birds began to sing, and all at
once the brakes were full of whirring insects.
The winding path turned again, and came out abruptly on a hillside, above an open glade piled with grey
boulders. On the opposite rise of ground stood a grove of pines, with bare, red stems. The light, around and
under them, was red like a rosy sunset. Nearly all the stems divided about half-way up into two great arms, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]