bruce-第20章
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courtesy it was no longer a village at all。 It was a double row
of squalid ruins; zig…zagging along the two sides of what was
left of its main street。 Here and there a cottage or tiny shop or
shed was still habitable。 The rest was debris。
The church in the foreground was recognizable as such by the
shape and size of its ragged walls; and by a half…smashed image
of the Virgin and Child which slanted out at a perilous angle
above its fa?ade。
Yet; miserable as the ruined hamlet seemed to the casual eye; it
was at present a vacation…resortand a decidedly welcome oneto
no less than three thousand tired men。 The wrecked church was an
impromptu hospital beneath whose shattered roof dozens of these
men lay helpless on makeshift cots。
For the mixed American and French regiment known as the 〃Here…We…
Comes〃 was billeted at Meran…en…Laye during a respite from the
rigors and perils of the front…line trenches。
The rest and the freedom from risks; supposed to be a part of the
〃billeting〃 system; were not wholly the portion of the 〃Here…We
Comes。〃 MeranenLaye was just then a somewhat important little
speck on the warmap。
The Germans had been up to their favorite field sport of trying
to split in half two of the Allied armies; and to roll up each;
independently。 The effort had been a failure; yet it had come so
near to success that many railway communications were cut off or
deflected。 And Meran…en…Laye had for the moment gained new
importance; by virtue of a spur railway…line which ran through
its outskirts and which made junction with a new set of tracks
the American engineers were completing。 Along this transverse of
roads much ammunition and food and many fighting men were daily
rushed。
The safety of the village had thus become of much significance。
While it was too far behind the lines to be in grave danger of
enemy raids; yet such danger existed to some extent。 〃Wherefore
the presence of the 〃Here…We…Comes〃for the paradoxical double
purpose of 〃resting up〃 and of guarding the railway Function。
Still; it was better than trench…work; and the 〃Here…We…Comes〃
enjoyed itfor a day or so。 Then trouble had set in。
A group of soldiers were lounging on the stone seat in front of
the village estaminet。 Being off duty; they were reveling in that
popular martial pastime known to the Tommy as 〃grousing〃 and to
the Yankee doughboy as 〃airing a grouch。〃
Top…Sergeant Mahan; formerly of the regular army; was haranguing
the others。 Some listened approvingly; others dissentingly and
others not at all。
〃I tell you;〃 Mahan declared for the fourth time; 〃somebody's
double…crossing us again。 There's a leak。 And if they don't find
out where it is; a whole lot of good men and a million dollars'
worth of supplies are liable to spill out through that same leak。
It〃
〃But;〃 argued his crony; old Sergeant Vivier; in his hard…
learned English; 〃but it may all be of a chance; mon vieux。 It
may; not be the doubled cross;whatever a doubled cross means;
but the mere chance。 Such things often〃
〃Chance; my grandmother's wall…eyed cat!〃 snorted Mahan。 〃Maybe
it might have been chancewhen this place hadn't been bombed for
a monthfor a whole flight of boche artillery and airship
grenades to cut loose against it the day General Pershing
happened to stop here for an hour on his way to Chateau…Thierry。
Maybe that was chancethough I know blamed well it wasn't。 Maybe
it was chance that the place wasn't bombed again till two days
ago; when that troop…train had to spend such a lot of time
getting shunted at the junction。 Maybe it was chance that the
church; over across the street; hadn't been touched since the
last drive; till our regiment's wounded were put in itand that
it's been hit three times since then。 Maybe any one of those
thingsand of a dozen others was chance。 But it's a cinch that
ALL of them weren't chance。 Chance doesn't work that way。 I〃
〃Perhaps;〃 doubtfully assented old Vivier; 〃perhaps。 But I little
like to believe it。 For it means a spy。 And a spy in one's midst
is like to a snake in one's blankets。 It is a not pleasing
comrade。 And it stands in sore need of killing。〃
〃there's spies everywhere;〃 averred Mahan。 〃That's been proved
often enough。 So why not here? But I wish to the Lord I could lay
hands on him! If this was one of the little sheltered villages;
in a valley; his work would be harder。 And the boche airships and
the long…rangers wouldn't find us such a simple target。 But up
here on this ridge; all a spy has to do is to flash a signal; any
night; that a boche airman can pick up or that can even be seen
with good glasses from some high point where it can be relayed to
the German lines。 The guy who laid out this burg was sure
thoughtless。 He might have known there'd be a war some day。 He
might even have strained his mind and guessed that we'd be stuck
here。 Gee!〃
He broke off with a grunt of disgust; nor did he so much as
listen to another of the group who sought to lure him into an
opinion as to whether the spy might be an inhabitant of the
village or a camp…follower。
Sucking at his pipe; the Sergeant glowered moodily down the
ruined street。 The village drowsed under the hot midday。 Here and
there a soldier lounged along aimlessly or tried out his
exercise…book French on some puzzled; native。 Now and then an
officer passed in or out of the half…unroofed mairie which served
as regimental headquarters。
Beyond; in the handkerchief…sized village square; a platoon was
drilling。 A thin French housewife was hanging sheets on a line
behind a shell…twisted hovel。 A Red Cross nurse came out of the
hospitalchurch across the street from the estaminet and seated
herself on the stone steps with a basketful of sewing。
Mahan's half…shut eyes rested critically on the drilling
platoonamusedly on the woman who was so carefully hanging the
ragged sheets;and then approvingly upon the Red Cross nurse on
the church steps across the way。
Mahan; like most other soldiers; honored and revered the Red
Cross for its work of mercy in the army。 And the sight of one of
the several local nurses of the Order won from him a glance of
real approbation。
But presently into his weather…beaten face came an expression of
glad welcome。 Out of the mairie gate and into the sleepy warmth
of the street lounged a huge dark…brown…and…white collie。 The don
stretched himself lazily; fore and aft; in true collie style;
then stood gazing about him as if in search of something of
interest to occupy his bored attention。
〃Hello!〃 observed Mahan; breaking in on a homily of Vivier's。
〃There's Bruce!〃
Vivier's leathery face brightened at sound of the collie's name。
He looked eagerly in the direction of Mahan's pointing finger。
〃Ce brave!〃 exclaimed the Frenchman。 〃I did not know even that he
was in the village。 It must be he is but new…arriven。 Otherwise
he would; of an assuredly; have hunted up his old friends。 Ohe;
Bruce!〃 he called invitingly。
〃The big dog must have gotten here just a few minutes ago;〃 said
Sergeant Mahan。 〃He was coming out of headquarters when I saw
him。 That must mean he's just struck the town; and with a message
for the K。O。 He always goes like greased lightning when he's on
dispatch duty; till he has delivered his message。 Then; if he's
to be allowed to hang around a while before he's sent back; he
loafs; lazy…like; the way you see him now。 If all the courier…
dogs were like him; every human courier would be out of a job。〃
At Vivier's hail the great collie had pricked his ears and
glanced inquiringly up and down the street。 Catching sight of the
group seated in front of the estaminet; he began to wag his plumy
tail and set off toward them at a trot。
Ten minutes earlier; Bruce had cantered into Meran…en…Laye from
the opposite end of the street; bearing in his collar a dispatch
from the corps comm