The Girl Philippa
next town south of us? I mean by the military road."
"To Rosieres-sous-Bois?"
"Yes."
"About ten kilometers by the military road."
He nodded and counted the ships. There were three.
"Is there more than one road which runs to Rosieres-sous-Bois?" he
asked.
"Yes. One may go by this road, or cross the bridge by the quarries and
go by the river road, or there is still a better and shorter highway
which runs west of Sais."
"Then there are _three_ main roads to Rosieres-sous-Bois?"
"Yes. The road to the west is shorter. It is not more than seven miles
that way."
Halkett casually counted the sea gulls. Seven gulls were flying around
one of the ships; thirteen around another.
"And the river road, Sister?" he inquired.
"By the quarry bridge? Oh, that is longer--perhaps twelve or thirteen
kilometers."
"I see.... Rosieres-sous-Bois is not a garrison town?"
"No. There are only a few gendarmes there."
Halkett examined the picture attentively. The sun appeared to be about
three hours high above the horizon.
"The nearest military post must be about three hours' journey from
here," he ventured.
Sister Eila thought a moment, then nodded:
"Yes, about three hours. You mean the fort above the Pass of the
Falcons? That is the nearest."
He counted the rays of the sun. There were three long ones and two
short ones.
"I suppose there are three or four battalions garrisoned there," he
remarked.
"Three, I think. And a company of engineers and one company of Alpine
chasseurs."
All the time, with a detached air, the young Englishman was examining
the colored poster, searching it minutely for variations from other
posters of the same sort which he had recently investigated.
There remained in his mind little or no doubt that the number and
position of the groups of pointed wavelets signified something
important; that the number of sails set on the ships, which varied in
every poster, contained further information; that the sky, cloudless in
some posters, dotted with clouds in others, was destined to convey
topographical particulars to somebody.
These colored advertisements of a soap made in Cologne by Bauermann and
Company, and plastered over the landscape of Northern and Eastern
Belgium and France, concealed a wealth of secret information for anybody
who possessed the key to the messages so clearly and craftily expressed
in pictograph and cipher code.
The sinister significance of the sheet in his hand was becoming more
apparent every minute. He had made a study of these posters--was just
beginning to find them interesting, when he had been ordered to America.
Now, all his interest in them returned.
Sister Eila had seated herself at her desk, and, while he was still
examining the poster, she continued serenely to correct the pile of inky
copybooks.
He watched her for a while, where she bent above the scrawled pages, her
pen poised, her lovely face framed in the snowy wimple under the pale
shadow of her wide-winged coiffe.
"Sister Eila?"
She turned her head tranquilly.
"You are English, you tell me?"
"Irish." She smiled.
"It's the same. Tell me, have you had enough experience in your world
of duty and of unhappiness to know an honest man when you encounter
him?"
Sister Eila laid aside her pen and turned toward him.
"I don't think I understand," she said.
"I mean, could you make up your mind about--well--about such a man as I
am--merely by inspecting me and hearing me speak?"
Sister Eila laughed:
"I think I could very easily."
"Have you already done so?"
"Why, yes, I suppose so."
"Do you think I am honest enough to be trusted?"
Sister Eila laughed again, deliciously.
"Yes, I think so," she said.
He remained silent and his face, already grave, grew more serious.
Sister Eila's smile faded as she watched him. It was becoming very
plain to her that here was a man in trouble.
Silent there together in the cool stillness of the schoolroom, they
heard the distant clatter of little feet, the vigorous voice of command
from Sister Felicite; and a moment later a double file of chattering
children passed in the sunshine outside the window, led toward their
noonday playground by Sister Felicite accompanied by Warner.
"What is on your mind, Mr. Halkett?" asked Sister Eila, still watching
him.
"If I tell you," he said, "will you ask me no more than I offer to tell
you?"
She flushed:
"Naturally, Monsieur----"
"You don't quite understand, Sister. What I have to say I wish you to
write down for me in the form of a letter of information to the French
Government."
"You wish _me_ to write it?"
"Please. And that is what I mean. Naturally, you might ask me why I do
not write it myself.... Don't ask me, Sister.... If you really do
trust me."
He turned, met her gaze, saw two clear, sweet eyes unspoiled and
unsaddened by the wisdom she had learned in dark and wretched places;
saw in them only a little wonder, a faintly questioning surprise.
"What is your answer, Sister?" he asked.
"My answer is--I--I _do_ trust you.... What am I to write?"
She took a few loose leaves of paper from the desk, and sat looking at
him, pen lifted.
He said:
"Write to the chief of the general staff at the Ministry of War in
Paris."
And when she had properly addressed the personage in question, he
dictated his letter very slowly in English; and Sister Eila, her
expressionless young face bent above the letter paper, translated into
French as he dictated, and wrote down the exact meaning of every word he
uttered:
"Information has come to me that the advertisements of Bauermann and
Company, of Cologne, Prussia, which are posted everywhere throughout
Belgium and Northern and Eastern France, conceal military and
topographical details concerning the vicinity where these advertisements
are displayed.
"Such information could be of use only to a prowling spy or an invading
enemy.
"Therefore, acting upon the incomplete information offered me, I deem it
my duty to bring this matter to the notice of the Government.
"It would appear that:
"1st. Secret information is contained in the details of the picture
which embellishes this advertisement, a sample of which I inclose
herewith.
"2nd. These details vary in every poster. Presumably their number,
color, groupings, and general distribution constitute a secret code
which is calculated to convey information to the enemies of France.
"3rd. In the sample which is inclosed with this letter, the number of
ships probably represents the number of highways leading from Sais to
Rosieres-sous-Bois; the sea gulls flying above two of the ships give the
distance in kilometers; the ten white flowers give the distance by the
military road.
"The sun, in the picture, appears to be about three hours high above the
horizon; and it is _three hours'_ journey from here to the nearest
French fortified post, the Pass of the Falcons in the Vosges.
"The rays of the sun are five in number, three long ones and two short
ones; and there are _three battalions_ of the line guarding the fort at
the pass, and _two companies_, one of engineers, one of Alpine infantry.
"My informant, who desires to remain anonymous, further declares it to
be his belief that an exhaustive study of this and similar posters would
reveal perfectly clear messages in every detail of color, drawing, and
letter-press; and that it is his firm conviction that these posters,
representing a German firm which manufactures soap, have been placed
throughout Belgium and France for the convenience of an invading army.
"Immediate removal of these advertisements seems advisable in the
opinion of my informant.
"(Signed), SISTER EILA,
"Of the Daughters of St. Vincent de Paul at Sais."
When she had finished the letter and had unhesitatingly signed it, she
lifted her clear eyes to him in silence. Her breath came a trifle
unevenly; the tint of excitement grew and waned in her cheeks.
"At least," he said, "you will understand that I am a friend to France."
"Yes, that is evident."
"Will you direct and seal the packet and give it to the postman?"
"Yes."
"And, Sister Eila, if they send gendarmes or other officials to question
you?"
She looked straight into his eyes, deeply, so that her gaze seemed to
plunge into the depths of his very soul.
Then, lifting the cross from the rosary at her girdle, she slipped out
of her chair and knelt down beside her desk, her young head bent low
over the crucifix which she held between the palms of her joined hands.
Halkett, head also lowered, stood motionless.
After a few moments she rose lightly from her knees.
"It is a vow, now," she said. "I have bound myself to silence
concerning the source of my information--" her untroubled eyes rested
again on his--"because I believe in you, Monsieur."
He started to speak, but seemed to find no word to utter. A bright
color mounted to his brow; he turned abruptly from the desk and stepped
toward the open door.
And the instant he appeared there, framed by the doorway, a shot rang
out, knocking a cloud of stucco and plaster from the wall beside him.
*CHAPTER IX*
He shrank back flat against the wall, edged along it, and slipped
swiftly inside the house. A thick veil of lime dust hung across the open
doorway, gilded by the sunlight. Crumbs of plaster and mortar still
fell to the schoolroom floor.
Through the heated silence of early afternoon he could hear the distant
cries of the children from their playground; there was no other sound;
nothing stirred; nobody came.
If Warner had noticed the shot at all, no doubt he supposed it to be the
premature report of some piece. To the gaunt, furtive Vosges poacher no
close season exists. If it did exist, he would cease to.
Halkett slowly turned his head and saw Sister Eila behind him. She had
risen from her chair at the desk; now she came slowly forward, her deep,
grey eyes fixed on him. But before she could take another step he laid
his hand firmly on her wide, blue sleeve and forced her back into the
room.
"Keep away from that door," he said quietly.
"Did somebody try to kill you?" she asked. Her voice was curious, but
perfectly calm.
"I think so.... Don't show yourself near that door. They might not be
able to distinguish their target at such a range."
"They? Who are 'they'?"
"Whoever fired.... I must ask you again to please keep out of range of
that doorway----"
"The shot came from the river willows across the fields, did it not?"
she interrupted.
"I'm very sure of it. You need not feel any anxiety for the children,
Sister; I am going. There'll be no more shots."
"There is a door at the back by the kitchen yard, Mr. Halkett. They
will not see you if you leave that way."
He stood thinking for a while; then:
"On your account, and on the children's, I'll have to show myself again
when I leave the house, so that there'll be no mistake about my
identity. Don't move until after I have gone some distance along the
road. And please say to Mr. Warner that I've returned to the inn for
luncheon----"
"There is a door in the rear! You must not show yourself----"
"Indeed, I must. Otherwise, they might mistake you or Sister Felicite
or one of the children for me----"
"Mr. Halkett!" He had already started.
"Yes?" he replied, halting and glancing back; and found her already at
his elbow.
"Why were you shot at?" she asked. "I desire to know."
He looked her straight in the eyes:
"I can't tell you why, Sister."
"You say you are English, and that you are a friend to France. If that
is true, then tell me who shot at you! Do you know?"
"In a general way, I suppose I do know."