Who Goes There!

"Were this estate my own," said the sturdy forester, "I would shelter them as long as they desired to remain. But I am responsible to Monsieur Paillard, and to his tenant, Madame Courland. Therefore I have asked these poor refugees to continue on to Diekirch or to Luxembourg where the sight of an Uhlan's schapska will be no temptation to them."

"You are right, Michaud." He held out his hand; the forester grasped it. "Tomorrow we should talk further. Our duty is to join the colours, not to prowl through the woods assassinating Uhlans. Good night! In the morning then?"

"At Monsieur's service."

"And both of us at the service of the bravest man in Europe – Albert, the King!"

Off came their hats. And, as they stood there in silence under the stars, from far away across the misty sea of trees came the sound of a gun-shot.

"One of your men?" asked Guild sharply.

"I don't know, Monsieur. Big boar feed late. A poacher perhaps. Perhaps a garde-de-chasse at Trois Fontaines."

"I hope nothing worse."

"I pray God not."

They continued to listen for a while, but no other sound broke the starry silence. And finally Guild turned away with a slight gesture, and walked slowly back to the Lodge.

Lights from the tall windows made brilliant patches and patterns across terrace and grass and flowers; the front door was open and the pleasant ruddy lamp-light streamed out.

Valentine passing and mounting the stairs caught sight of him and waved her hand in friendly salute.

"We're sterilizing Harry's shins – mother and I. The foolish boy was rather badly tusked."

"Is he all right?"

"Perfectly, and bored to death by our fussing."

She ran on up the stairs, paused again: "We're not dressing for dinner," she called down to him, and vanished.

Guild said, "All right!" glanced at the hall clock, and sauntered on into the big living-room so unmistakably American in its brightness and comfort.

But it was not until he had dropped back into the friendly embrace of a stuffed arm-chair that he was aware of Karen curled up in the depths of another, sewing.

"I didn't know you were here," he said coolly. "Have you had an agreeable afternoon?"

"Yes, thank you."

"It's a very charming place."

"Yes."

"I think the Courlands are delightful."

"Very."

"Miss Courland and I had a wonderful walk. We had no trouble in taking all the trout we needed for dinner, and then we went to a rock called The Pulpit, where we lay very still and talked only in whispers until three wild boars came out to feed."

Karen lifted her eyes from her sewing. They seemed unusually dark to him, almost purple.

"After that," he went on, "we walked back along the main ride to a carrefour where the drive crosses; and so back here. That accounts for my afternoon." He added, smiling carelessly: "May I ask you to account for yours?"

"Yes, please."

"Very well, then I do ask it."

She bent over her sewing again: "I have been idle. The sun was agreeable. I went for a little stroll alone and found an old wall and a pool and a rose garden."

"And then?"

"The rose garden is very lovely. I sat there sewing and – thinking – "

"About what?"

"About – you – mostly."

He said steadily enough: "Were your thoughts pleasant?"

"Partly."

"Only partly?"

"Yes… I remembered that you are joining your regiment."

"But that should not be an unpleasant thought for you, Karen."

"No. I would have it so, of course. It could not be otherwise under the circumstances."

"It could not be otherwise," he said pleasantly; but his grey eyes never left the pale, sweet profile bent above the leisurely moving needle.

"I understand."

"I know you understand that– at least, Karen."

"Yes. Other matters, too – a little better than I did – this morning."

"What matters?" he asked casually. But his heart was threatening to meddle with his voice; and he set his lips sternly and touched his short mustache with careless fingers.

Karen bent still lower over her sewing. The light was perfectly good, however.

"What," he asked again, "are the matters which you now understand better than you did this morning?"

"Matters – concerning – love."

He laughed: "Do you think you understand love?"

"A little better than I did."