The Girl Philippa
incomprehensible to me. It's just a vast accumulation of unhappy facts
concerning life as it is lived by many.... I always knew there were
such people as you--as these dear and gentle friends of yours; I never
saw them--never saw even any young girls after I left school--only the
women, young and old, who came to the cabaret, or who came and went
through the Ausone streets, or who sat knitting and gossiping under the
trees on the quay."
She laid her cheek against his shoulder with a little sigh.
"You are very wonderful to me," she murmured, partly to herself.
The night air had become a little fresher: he thought that she should
have some sort of wrap, so they entered the billiard room together,
where Peggy, awaiting her shot, slipped one arm around Philippa's waist,
detaining her to caress her and whisper nonsense.
"You beautiful child, I want you to stay with me and not go star-gazing
with that large and sunburnt man. You'll stay, won't you, darling? And
we'll go to the library presently and find a pretty red and gold book
full of armorial designs and snobbish information; and we'll search very
patiently through those expensively illuminated pages until we find a
worthy family called D'Aures----"
"Oh, Peggy!" said Philippa. "Would you really take so much trouble?"
"Rather!" said Peggy coolly. "I mean to write him some day and find out
how he is treating my pet Minerva runabout which he had the audacity to
appropriate without thanking me."
Philippa laughed rather shyly, not entirely comprehending the balance
between badinage and sincerity in Peggy's threat, but realizing that any
freedom she permitted herself was her prerogative.
Warner, lingering at the other door, caught Peggy's eye.
"You can't have her, Jim!" she said with emphasis, and drew her closer.
So Warner went on to find a wrap for her, and entered the music room.
The next moment he halted, rigid, astounded.
Peering through the windows into the room were the dirty countenances of
Asticot and Squelette, their battered noses flattened white on the
glass, their ratty eyes fixed on him.
*CHAPTER XXV*
That the precious pair believed Warner to be paralyzed with terror was
evident.
As long as he remained motionless they glared at him, their faces and
spread fingers flattened against the windowpane. Then, the next
instant, he was after them at one bound, jerking open the glass door,
out across the terrace where the two young ruffians, evidently surprised
and confused by his headlong behavior, parted company, Squelette digging
up gravel in his headlong flight down the drive, Asticot darting across
the lawn where, beyond the stables, a hospitable tangle of shrubbery
seemed to promise easy escape.
But Asticot was awfully wrong; in the darkness he rushed full speed into
an elastic barrier of mesh wire which supported the hedge of sweet peas
separating garage and stables; and as he rebounded, Warner caught him
and coolly began to beat him up.
The beating was deliberate, methodical, and merciless; the blows fell
with smart cracks upon the features of Asticot, right, left, sometimes
hoisting him off his large, flat feet, sometimes driving him dizzily
earthward; but another blow and a savage jerk always brought him up to
be swung on again, battered, knocked flying, and finally smashed into
merciful insensibility.
Asticot was in a dreadful mess as he lay there on the grass. Vignier,
the chauffeur, and a stable lad, Henri, had appeared with a lantern at
the _debacle_ of Monsieur Asticot.
Warner, breathing rapidly, waited a few moments to recover his breath.
"Take him into the harness room and lay him on a blanket," he managed to
say. "Keep your eyes on him, Vignier, until I return. There's another
of them, but I'm afraid he's cleared out."
As a matter of fact, Squelette had cleared out. He must have scaled the
wall somewhere, for the gates were locked, and the old lodge keeper was
evidently asleep.
The lad, Henri, came up, armed with a stable fork, and followed by the
head gardener, Maurice, shouldering a fowling piece and marshaling in
his wake half a dozen others--grooms, under-gardeners, and a lad or two
employed about the place.
They beat the shrubbery for an hour; then Warner left them to explore
the wooded strip along the base of the wall with their flashlights and
lanterns, and went back to the stable where lay Asticot, badly in need
of bandages and protracted repose.
Vignier met Warner at the stable door.
"Has he come to?" inquired the latter, who had begun to feel a little
worried.
"Monsieur Warner, that _voyou_ is a most frightful wreck. Out of
neither eye is he able to perceive me; what he wears upon his shoulders
does not, to me, resemble a head at all."
"He _is_ conscious, then?"
"Entirely. He lies upon his blanket and inquires for you at intervals."
"What?"
"It is true. 'Oh, my mother!' he whimpers. 'What a horrible beating I
have had from that American! Oh, my sister, I am battered into a
_boudin_! Ou est-il, donc, ce Monsieur sans remords? I have need of
conversing with him. I wish to behold him who has brought me to this
pitiable ditch of misery! I do not desire another beating! It is I,
Asticot, who informs you!' And that, Monsieur Warner, is what this
_voyou affreux_ continues to repeat in the harness room where I have
locked him in. Would Monsieur care to inspect the swine?"
Warner nodded and entered the stable; Vignier fitted a key to the
harness room and opened the door.
A lantern burned there brightly. Under it squatted Asticot on his
blanket. Neither eye was entirely closed, for there was a ratty glitter
under the puffed lids, and he lost no time in whining out that he did
not desire to be beaten any more by "that gentleman there"--pointing a
shaking finger straight at Warner.
"Vignier," said Warner, "bring me a chair, close the door, and then go
and find something to bandage this rascal. Bring a tub and hot water,
also!"
And when the chair was fetched and the door closed, Warner seated
himself and surveyed the battered ruffian with grim satisfaction.
"You murderous young sewer rat," he said calmly, "out with the whole
business, now! Do you hear? I meant to catch one of you and find out
for myself what you're up to. Now, tell me, and tell me quick, and
don't lie, or I'll start in on you again----"
He half rose from his chair, and Asticot shrieked.
"What were you doing here?" snapped out Warner.
"M-m'sieu'--it was but a peaceful reconnoissance in search of--of
information----" stuttered Asticot in terror.
"What information?--You rat!"
"M-m-m'sieu'--I swear to you on the cross of my mother----"
"Stop that! Go on! Go on faster! What information?"
"T-t-to f-find out if _l-la fille_, Philippa, had taken refuge with
M-madame la Comtesse----"
"Who wants that information?"
"I s-swear to you----"
"Quick! _Who_ wants it!"
"Monsieur Wildresse----"
"Why?"
"_Je n'en sais rien_----"
"You lying Apache! _Why_?"
"M'sieu', he pays us, the Squelette and me, to do his jobs for him, but
he has never made confidants of us. I swear it. I don't know why he
desires to seize the girl, Philippa!"
"He _does_ mean to seize her, then?"
"Alas----"
"_Does_ he?"
Asticot's entire body jerked from sheer fright.
"Yes--yes, he does! God knows it is not in me to lie to M'sieu'. God
knows I do not ever desire another beating such as M'sieu' has been
pleased to bestow upon me. I affirm it--I, Asticot--that I am the
devoted servant of M'sieu' and will most thankfully betray anybody to
him----"
"Be quiet!"
"M'sieu' does not believe me! Yet, I speak only truth. I will
diligently serve M'sieu' if he permits----"
"Serve _me_? Why?"
"Mon Dieu, M'sieu', have I not been most horribly beaten by M'sieu'? I,
Asticot, who am not unacquainted with the _Boxe_ and the _Savate_--I
have been rendered insensible! With weapons? No! _Without_ weapons!
Yes, with the empty hands of M'sieu'. Why should I not admire? Why
should I not experience gratitude that I am alive? Am I an imbecile to
court further destruction? _Non, alors_; I am not crazy. God forbid I
should ever again experience the hand of M'sieu' upon my coat collar!
And if----"
"You listen to _me_!" interrupted Warner. "Vermin of your sort that
Wildresse hires for a few francs stand no chance when military law is
proclaimed. Either side would push you against a wall on sight. Do you
understand?"
"Mon Dieu, M'sieu'----"
"There are just two safe places for you: Biribi or prison. Which do you
prefer?"
"I? Oh, my God! I have served in the Battalion de Biribi! Not _that_,
M'sieu'----"
"All right; La Nouvelle----"
Asticot emitted a muffled shriek, huddled his ragged knees within his
arms, and sat rocking and whimpering and blubbering with fright under
the lantern until an impatient gesture from Warner startled him dumb.
"Like all your kind, you don't like to be hurt, do you?" inquired
Warner, disgusted. "Yet, for twenty francs--for ten--yes, for
_five_--you could be hired to do murder; couldn't you?"
"I--I would b-be happy to do it for nothing to oblige M'sieu'----"
"I haven't a doubt of it. The only thing you understand is fear....
Where is Wildresse?"
"M'sieu' doubtless knows."
"Never mind what I know. Answer!"
"Le vieux----"
"_Who?_"
"Le Pere Wildresse--he has taken to the woods----"
"Where?"
"Le foret d'Ausone."
"Why?"
"It is because of the girl Philippa. It is evident to Squelette and to
me that he fears her. Why? I tell you frankly I do not know. If I
knew----"
"Go on!"
Asticot turned his battered visage toward Warner. A leer stretched his
swollen mouth.
"If we knew what he is afraid of, Squelette and I, we would make him
sing!" he said coolly.
"Blackmail him?"
"Naturally."
"I understand. And if you ever had a chance to get behind my back with
a thoroughly trustworthy knife--eh, Asticot?"
"No," said the ruffian naively, "I should be afraid to do that." He
squinted silently at Warner out of his puffy eyes for a few moments,
then, shaking his head: "No," he repeated; "never again. I should make
of the job only a bungle; I should be too horribly afraid."
Warner got up from his chair.
"Tomorrow," he said, "I shall go with you to the Forest of Ausone and
you shall find the Pere Wildresse for me and I shall have a little chat
with him."
"Do you mean to slay him, M'sieu'? It would be safer, I think. I could
do it for you, if you wish, when his back is turned. When one is
annoyed by anybody, it saves much trouble to knock him on the head at
once. If I could once get him down," he added cheerfully, "I would take
him by both ears and beat his head on the ground until his coco
cracked."
"Really?"
"Certainly. Supposition that an individual bores M'sieu'. What to do?
M'sieu' reflects; M'sieu' rubs his head in perplexity--crac! There is
his devoted friend, Asticot! Why had you not before thought of your
humble friend and grateful? Asticot! To be sure! A word to him and
the job is done, discreetly, without any _tapage_. And M'sieu',
contented, I trust, with his honest and devoted Asticot, may remember in
his bounty that times are hard and that one must eat and drink--yes,
even poor Asticot among the rest."
"Yes, Asticot. But after you're dead such necessities won't trouble
you."
"M-m'sieu'!"
"I've got my eye on you. Do you know what that means?"
Stammering and stuttering, the ruffian admitted that he did know.
"Very well. They'll bring you a tin tub full of hot water, some
clothing which I bestow upon you, some salves and bandages. Afterward,