The Red Cross Barge

s, the sixth morning of the

peculiar, un-German habit he had acquired during the m

ppeared, fairy-wise, in the night. That he now no longer feared, and on this lovely September morning his eyes rested with a feeling of exultant ownership on the now familiar scene before him. The trim, leafy mall just across the paved road, the slowly flow

he only reminder in Valoise that France was at war. Till the day before there had been a hundred and five spurred and booted reminders, but yesterday afternoon the Uh

nstant reminder of the awful struggle, of the losing fight now going on between those t

id he now know, but he exulted in the knowledge that, with his first vision-like sight of Jeanne Rouannès, had come that 'love-at-once' of which some of his comrades had rhapsodised in the now-so-distant-as-to-be-almost-forgotten pre-war time. Those rhapsodies of long ago had left him unmoved, partly because as a

France-would soon be at an end. That he had been confidently assured, some three weeks ago, by a member of General von Kluck's own able staff. Within a very short time of the German occupation of Paris-some even believed within a few hours of the capitulation of the city-peace would be signed with France. There would be bitterness among certain sections of the French people-among the Chauvinists, for instance, who still hankered a

to face the fact that the only common ground on which they met each day was that on which lay the wounded Frenchmen to whom she gave so much anxious care. It was a ground on which the Herr Doktor spent all the time he could. But unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately, it was ground which was being rapidly cleared, for thanks to his skill, to her care, and no doubt to nature too, 'our wounded,' as he had once ventured to ca

conscientious medical attendant. True, Mademoiselle Rouannès never even asked him how his noble patient was progressing, and once, when old Jacob had alluded to the Uhlan officer, the Herr Doktor had overheard her exclaim, with a strange touch of passion in her voice, 'I forbid you-I forbid you, Jacob, to speak of that Pru

n guest. It was curious how the departure of those burly, good-natured Uhlans had affected the people of Valoise! Within an hour of their going, windows had been unshuttered

and military prowess, that is in the thirteenth century) the Herr Doktor invariably met Mademoiselle Rouannès by accident, either in the road, or, what was pleasanter still, under the trees in the mall. When he saw her coming, gravely he would stop and bow, and she would bend her head in greeting. It would have been natu

a boy of nineteen, a clever, well-mannered, gentle boy of the peasant class, who had been shot through the lung. What had touched the German surgeon's heart, what had made him especially interested in this young soldier, were a few words which had been uttered by the Red Cross nurse very early in their

ng time. Every moment he hoped, nay, he expected confidently, to see her hastening towards him, clad in the white dress and wearing the medieval-looking cap, wit

ot come. Suddenly it occurred to him that perhaps she was alrea

stout figure of old Thérèse on deck. That meant

ck, a broad genial smile of good fellowship. What a difference the de

s a very poor best, to make the men lying there comfortable. Still, they all looked more cheerful than usual, and the boy he now hoped to save, the boy for whom he had

st six, seven, th

eck. Thérèse was sitting there sewing. 'A

ather is much worse. I myself can see no difference. But something he said to h

ised, absurdly annoyed

order her to come. He was a Red Cross doctor, and she a Red Cross nurse; he had, therefore, the absolute right to dispose of her time and services. But, sighing, he dismi

ote would be written in English, and it would run somewhat in this wise: 'Gracious Miss,'-or perhaps it would be better to put plain 'Miss' in the French way-'If

would bring her. But he would not write that note yet. He would wait till he had seen his own patient, Prince Eg

wly flowing river looked grey and sullen. Suddenly the Herr Doktor felt oddly friendless, and alone. '

all quarters. Cautiously he opened the narrow

d' from an empty villa, were laid out gold-backed brushes, and a number of pretty trifles. Above the table hung a circular mirror, also commandeered, and there was a whiff of some sweet, pungent scent in the air. How different

handiwork of which he had felt proud on the first evening of his ar

en-and-gold-silk dressing-gown, in the Weimar surg

etter to-day! It is extraordinary what good this rest has done me. And then that old Jacob! An almost perfect v

the Herr Doktor's part. But his patient did not so accept it. An extraordinar

ied. 'Do you suspect o

d soothingly. 'I suspect nothing! Besides your Highness has

get up. I will wear my dressing-gown, not my uniform, and I will go up on deck. There I will sit and chat with the beautiful English-sp

arply. 'I doubt much if you are well enough to go upstairs. A chill would be very serious in your

h of imperious decision. 'You must send for her, my dear Herr D

of contempt, for his patient filled his heart. But all

t up. I am very well where I a

an amusing flirtation with the Mamselle with whose man

to the convalescent Frenchmen at some length of themselves. Not one of them had been a soldier at the time the war broke out on that fateful 1st of August, and yet it surprised him, and in a sense mov