The Girl Philippa

"And yet I may make my statement if I choose? Is that the situation, General?"

"Yes."

"And I may denounce whom I please? I am free to accuse, am I? Free to confess and involve others?"

"Yes."

"Hé! Nom d'un nom! Comme vous est un bon bougre!!" broke out Wildresse in his harsh and dreadful voice. "I am to die, am I? So that's it, is it? Then I'll pull down everybody and everything I can while I have the chance. Men? Does it matter so much about a man or two if one can set the treacherous nations flying at one another's throats? There's a real revenge! I'll poison the belief in nations in you all! – You with your alliances and leagues and ententes! – That's where you'll not forget me! That's where your half crazy Kings and diseased Emperors will turn cross-eyed with suspicion! That's where there'll be a ratty scuttling to cover in your dirty chancelleries! I'll strip the orders and epaulettes off one or two idols before I finish. And I want witnesses! I demand witnesses to confront me – "

"Be quiet, Wildresse. Whom do you desire to confront?"

"You – for one! Then, the educated Kurd, yonder! That Cossack there – that man over there in a green uniform, who pretends to be a Christian! – That bashi-bazouk of Abdul – Major-General Count Cassilis, Russian Military Observer at division headquarters!"

"Very well."

"And I demand to be confronted with others, too. That Yankee painter, Warner. Let him carry the poison I spill back among his own people. They won't forget. And I want the British officer here, Captain Gray! Let him report to his Government what I say, and see if it can swallow it! … That's a sufficiency of men… And for my supplement I want the Countess de Moidrey – so that the noble faubourg shall feel the poison in its veins… And, as proof documentary of the statement I shall make, I demand to be confronted with the girl Philippa!"

"Is that all?"

"No… The mercy, the extenuation denied me by the military autocracy of France, I shall seek from another. I require two things only before I die: understanding and absolution from – my son."

"Who?"

"My only son, Jacques Wildresse, 6th Company, Battalion of Africa! – Jacques – of Biribi! That's all I want – so that he understands and pardons. As for you others —je m'en– "

The staff officer at the telephone suddenly bent over and whispered to the General. He listened, nodded, looked calmly at Wildresse.

"The soldier Wildresse, 6th Company, Battalion d'Afrique, was unable to bear your disgrace. He is this moment reported dead by his own hand."

A terrible spasm shot like lightning across the prisoner's visage, drawing his whole face to one side. Slowly the flaccid muscles resumed their natural places; the screwed up features loosened.

"That's a lie," mumbled Wildresse; and his big, hairless head doddered for a moment.

At a nod from Delisle a soldier picked up the wrist rope, coiled it, and gave it a slight pull.

"March!" he said briefly to his prisoner.

Count Cassilis came over, faintly amused at the scene, to judge by his expression.

"There's a good place under the north terrace," he said languidly. "You don't intend to listen, I fancy, to this statement he wants to make… Do you?"

"Oh, yes," said the General. "It's my business to listen always."

He sent an aid to find Warner and Gray, and to beg the honor of Madame de Moidrey's presence and of Philippa's. Then he smiled pleasantly at Count Cassilis.

"Yes," he said, "statements always should be listened to. It's the man who doesn't care to hear who makes the most terrible mistakes in life. I can't afford to make mistakes. I'd rather risk being bored. So, if you don't mind, my dear General – "

"Not in the least," said General Count Cassilis languidly.

They had conducted Wildresse into the small, semi-circular library in the northeast tower, the entrance to which gave on the terrace and billiard room.

Gray and Warner appeared presently with the Countess and Philippa; General Delisle went to them immediately, and remained in close consultation with them.

"It may prove of some military importance to us; it may prove of no value whatever – this statement he desires to make," concluded the General. "Of course it is not possible for me to guess… And yet, Madame, if there is a chance that the statement might be of value, may I not venture to hope that you and Mademoiselle are willing to submit to this disagreeable proceeding in the interests of France?"

"Certainly," said the Countess, and linked her arm in Philippa's.

The girl was a little pale, a trifle nervous, too. She glanced at Warner, tried to smile, then stood with lips slightly compressed and head high, looking steadily at the soldier who stood before the closed door of the little library.

"If you are ready," said the General quietly.

So they went in, one by one, very noiselessly, as though somebody had just died in there. But their entrance did not arouse Wildresse from his abstraction.

Two red-legged fantassins, with fixed bayonets and loaded rifles, stood behind him.

The man himself sat huddled on a chair in a corner, his great, blunt, murderous-looking hands hanging crossed between his knees, his big, hairless head of a butcher wagging slightly as though palsied.

There was not an atom of color left in his face, except for the pockmarks which were picked out in sickly greenish grey all over his flabby features.

He did not look up when they entered, his little, wicked black eyes, which had become dull and covered with a bluish glaze, remained fixed as though he were listening, and his heavy lower lip sagged.

"Wildresse," said General Delisle.

There was no response; a soldier stirred the prisoner to attention with the butt of his piece.

"Stand up," he said.

Wildresse, aroused, got to his great feet stupidly, looked around, caught sight of Philippa, and silently snarled – merely opened his mouth a little way till his upper lip curled back, emitting no sound whatever – then he caught sight of the green uniform of General Count Cassilis, and instantly the old glare blazed up in his eyes.

"By God, the Cossack!" he growled; and the heavy voice vibrated ominously through the room.

Warner led Philippa to a chair as General Delisle seated the Countess. Wildresse, his heavy arms hanging inert, stood looking from one man to another, as they found scats in turn, on sofas or on chairs – Delisle, Warner, Cassilis, Gray.

"Make your statement," said General Delisle dryly. And he added: "If it is a long one, you may seat yourself."

Wildresse shot a terrible look at the Russian Military Observer.

"For the last time," he said hoarsely, "will you do something for me? … For the last time?"

Cassilis lifted his expressive eyebrows and glanced rather wearily at Delisle.

"You know!" bellowed Wildresse in a sudden fury. "You know what I can say! If I say it, Russia and her allies will have an enemy instead of another ally! If I speak, your country will earn the contempt of France and of England too; and their implacable enmity after this war is ended. If I speak! Will you do something for me?"

Cassilis, polishing his monocle with a heavily scented handkerchief, shrugged.

"Very well!" roared Wildresse. "It is death, then, is it? You filthy, treacherous Cossack, I'll do what I can to ruin you and your lying Government before I pass out! – You Moslem at heart – you bashi-bazouk – "

"Moderate your voice and your manner!" said General Delisle very quietly.