"But I suppose we ought to have some one else with us; it won't do under the circumstances for us to ride alone," Major Hersey added.
During this speech the young officer colored slightly, since it was not among his usual duties to chaperon a girl. However, he knew what was fitting and intended that the conventions should be obeyed.
Glancing toward him, the little countess was about to demur, insisting that, although of course it might be advisable to have an escort, nevertheless, she did not wish to be deprived of opportunities to ride for such a reason. However, observing Major Jimmie's expression rather surprisingly she remained silent. In spite of his boyish appearance, his gentle brown eyes and sometimes almost diffident manner, there was a firmness in his mouth and chin which few persons ever misunderstood.
It was during one of their afternoon rides together, about ten days later, when they were accompanied by Sergeant Donald Hackett and Nora Jamison, that unexpectedly Charlotta turned to her escort.
"You don't approve of my having come away from home in the way that I did, do you, Major Hersey? Oh, I know you have never said anything of course, since you do not consider that we know each other sufficiently well to discuss personalities, yet just the same you do disapprove of me."
Jimmie Hersey shook his head.
"Certainly I do not disapprove of you." Then he flushed and laughed. "May I say instead that I approve of you highly. You don't mind my being a little complimentary?"
"Oh, if you mean to be flattering me, you need not think I am not pleased. But what I meant was that you do not approve of my action. Please answer me truthfully. I shall not be offended. After all, you see I am asking you the question, so you cannot be blamed for telling me the truth."
Still the young American officer hesitated.
"Well, Countess Charlotta, you must always remember that I am a soldier, and that in so far as possible I try to live up to a soldier's ideals. One of them is to face the music, never to run away. But there, that seems an extremely impolite thing for me to have said! You know how glad I am personally that you did come to Coblenz."
To the latter part of Major Hersey's remark, Charlotta apparently paid no attention.
She dropped her chin for a moment and stared straight ahead of her.
This afternoon she was wearing a brown corduroy riding habit and brown leather boots and a close fitting corduroy riding hat. Her father had not been so obdurate that he had not sent Charlotta a large trunk of her clothes soon after he learned of her safe arrival in Coblenz.
"You mean to say as kindly as possible that you think I am a coward," she returned finally. "That is what Mrs. Clark thinks also, only she has not said so, I suppose because I have never asked her. Sometimes, I have wondered since my arrival in Coblenz, if I should go back home and ask my father's forgiveness, making him understand that I shall never marry any one for whom I do not care. But my problem is, would he accept an apology which did not include obedience? You see that is what my new American friends cannot understand in my father's and my attitude to each other. Besides, I do so want to go to the United States when Mrs. Clark and Bianca and several of her Red Cross nurses return home. Mrs. Clark tells me that she and Dr. Clark only intend remaining in Coblenz until after the Germans have signed the treaty of peace. Dr. Clark then feels that he must go back to his New York city practice and be relieved by a younger man. Three or four of the American Red Cross nurses will be sailing at the same time. You simply cannot guess how I long to travel. Think of being as restless a person as I am and shut up in a tiny country like Luxemburg! I have never been anywhere else except just into Germany in all my life."
"Hard luck of course, and you would enjoy the United States! You are just the kind of girl to appreciate it. You must do what you think is right yourself since after all another fellow's judgment is not worth much," Major Hersey replied, not altogether pleased with the idea of his new friends vanishing from Coblenz when his own duties might keep him there an indefinite time.
Later that afternoon, at about dusk, on his way toward home, Major James Hersey was considering a number of matters somewhat seriously. He was a United States officer with nothing to live upon save his pay. Up to the present his one desire had been to continue to serve his country.
In Germany at this time there was a good deal of intensely bitter feeling. With the delay in the presentation of the peace terms a less friendly attitude toward America and the Americans was developing than during the weeks first following the German defeat.
In the interior the poorer people were said to be hungry, war weary and anxious to resume their normal business life.
In Coblenz there was especial dissatisfaction with the present German government, Coblenz having been a centre of pan-Germanism and pro-Kaiserism.
Carefully concealed as such ideas were supposed to be from the members of the American Army of Occupation, there were United States officers who appreciated that there were groups of prominent Germans at this time desiring the return of the Kaiser and some form of monarchial control. It was not known in March that the Kaiser might be tried by an international court.
Quietly Major Hersey had been informed that the United States Secret Service was endeavoring to discover the men who had been the Kaiser's closest friends in Coblenz before his inglorious departure into Holland.
There were still, Major Jimmie reflected, many interesting ways to serve one's country, even if the great war were past.
This afternoon it struck him that this might become more of a sacrifice than he had anticipated, but notwithstanding his country must always remain first!
At the threshold of his own door he stopped, slightly puzzled. Some one was already in his sitting-room, which was unusual at this hour. His rooms were cleaned in the morning and he was seldom interrupted afterwards either by a servant or any member of the household.
But probably a fellow officer had dropped in to see him and was awaiting his return.
Suddenly, with this idea in mind, Major Hersey thrust his door open.
Then he stood stock still in a slightly apologetic attitude.
His room was occupied and by the head of the German household in which he was at present living, Colonel Liedermann.
Major Hersey had not come into contact with him but once since his own arrival in Coblenz several months before.
The old German Colonel, wearing civilian clothes, was standing examining an American rifle, which the young American army officer had carelessly left propped up against the wall in one corner of his room.
The older man wheeled sharply at the younger one's entrance.
Colonel Liedermann had the typical German face, broad, with heavy, overhanging brows, small, stern blue eyes, and drooping jaws.
His face reddened at the present moment, but he said courteously: "I owe you an apology for entering your room when you were not present. I came to ask you if you would do me the favor of permitting me to look over some of your American newspapers. Germany is not being informed of all that is taking place in the world these days and I should like very much to know. But it is not for myself alone that I make this request. I am an old man and may not live long enough to see the new Germany if it is ever possible for Germany to arise out of the ashes of the past. But my son, as you know, has never recovered from his last and most serious wound. To lie always in bed after so active a life, grows exceedingly irksome. I find it difficult to keep him even fairly content. It was for him I was asking the loan of your newspapers. I presume the fact that we have so recently been enemies will not preclude your doing me this kindness. If so, I regret my intrusion."
A little overcome by the old German officer's haughty manner and set speech, Major Jimmie only murmured that he would be very glad of course to permit his American newspapers to be read, if Colonel Liedermann and his son did not feel that they would too greatly resent the American point of view.
As he made this statement, although not pleased by the German officer's request, Major Hersey was searching diligently for the latest bundle of American papers which he had received.
As he handed them to the former German Colonel, the old officer said, speaking in a more human fashion,
"I was interested in looking at this American rifle of yours. Naturally as an old soldier I remain interested in firearms, although I shall not live to see another war, however little I believe in a permanent world peace. Clever piece of mechanism! I am told the American rifle is the finest in the world!"
Not feeling called upon to reply to this speech and anxious that the old officer should depart, Major Hersey made no response.
A little later, when he had finally gone, with an unusual expression upon his boyish countenance, Major Jimmie Hersey sank down into his arm chair.
Was it singular that one could not recover from the sensation of acute distrust in the presence of a German? Among them there must be certain individuals who were truthful and straightforward. Yet after a century of training that the end justified the means, among German army officers one could not expect to find any other standard, than the standard which regarded the treaty of Belgium as a "scrap of paper." Betray any friend, any cause, any country to accomplish one's purpose. And tonight, although a member of Colonel Liedermann's household, Major Jimmie Hersey knew he would always remain their foe, no matter with what appearance of courtesy he might be treated.
It was an actual fact that never since his casual conversation with little Gretchen, the baby of the family, had he the same sense of untroubled serenity in the midst of this German military home.
Was it true that Captain Ludwig Liedermann was still unable to move from his bed? If so why had little Gretchen told so ingenious a falsehood? One would scarcely expect a little girl of six to make up so useless a story. But if Captain Liedermann were well why should he continue to make a pretence of illness? There were no penalties attached to the fact that he had been a German officer. Could it be possible that he so intensely disliked the idea of coming into contact with the troops General Pershing had led to victory, that he preferred invalidism to this other form of martyrdom?
There was just one point upon which Major Jimmie Hersey was able to make up his mind during this one evening's meditation.
He would suggest to Miss Jamison that she make no more visits to the Liedermann home. He had been surprised to find her returning not once but several times of late. She must understand that the Red Cross nurses were not supposed to make friends with the families of Germans until after peace was declared.
The little Freia had not been seriously hurt, having entirely recovered from her fright and injury by the next day. Nevertheless, Miss Jamison had made not one, but four or five other calls since her introduction to Frau Liedermann.
Of course, as he knew Miss Jamison but slightly, advice from him might prove embarrassing. She was in reality more Hackett's friend than his, although Sergeant Hackett would deny this fact. He had tried being friendly with Nora Jamison as she attracted him, but she did not seem to care for other interests than her Red Cross nursing and the children who surrounded her like tiny golden bees about a honey pot.
Her ride this afternoon had been her one concession; however, after reaching the Red Cross hospital, she had said it would be impossible for her to ride again, although she had greatly enjoyed it. In the future nursing and other work she had recently undertaken would occupy all her time.
It might be difficult to see Nora Jamison alone in order to warn her against any too great intimacy with the Liedermann family. Yet as a fellow American Major Hersey intended making the effort.
He would watch and if she came again to the Liedermann house, join her on her way back to the American Red Cross hospital.
CHAPTER XVIII