Then before either girl could fully grasp what the young man’s confused speech could mean, he had bowed, mounted his horse and ridden off.
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BUT circumstances afterwards made it impossible for Nona Davis to follow the young Russian officer’s advice.
A week went by at the hospital without a decision on the girl’s part and without another word from her former friend. Sonya Valesky she must remember was her Russian name. A beautiful name and somehow it seemed to fit the personality of the woman whom Nona at once admired and distrusted. For the name carried with it its own suggestion of beauty and of melancholy. What secret could Sonya Valesky be concealing that forced even her friends to warn others against her?
Of course there could be no answer in her own consciousness to this puzzle, yet Nona kept the problem at the back of her mind during the following week of strenuous work. Nursing inside the bleak fortress atGrovno was of a more difficult character than any work the three American Red Cross girls had yet undertaken. The surroundings were so uncomfortable, the nursing supplies so limited. Worse than anything else, an atmosphere of almost tragic suspense hung like a palpable cloud over every inmate of the fort.
Authentic news was difficult to obtain, yet refugees were constantly pouring in with stories of fresh German conquests in Poland. For it chanced that the months after the arrival of the three American girls in Russia were among the darkest in Russia’s history during the great war. Military strategists might be able to understand why the Grand Duke Nicholas and his army were giving way before almost every furious German onslaught. They could explain that he was endeavoring to lead the enemy deeper and deeper into a foreign land, so as to cut them off from their base of supplies. Yet it was hard for the ordinary man and woman or the common soldier to conceive of anything except fresh danger and disaster in each defeat.
So day after day, night after night the business of strengthening the line of fortifications at Grovno went on. The work was done with the silence and the industry of some enormous horde of ants.
Shut off in the left wing of the fort with the ill and wounded soldiers, the Red Cross nurses had only occasional glimpses of the warlike preparations that were being made. Once when there was a review of the troops in the courtyard behind the fortifications Mildred Thornton summoned Nona and Barbara. She had already told them of her experience with the commanding officer of the fort, but she wished the other two girls to have a look at him. It was difficult to get a vivid impression of a personality from a bird’s-eye view out of a small upper window. Yet the figure of General Alexis could never be anything but dominating. There was a hush of admiration from every man or woman inside the fortifications whenever their leader’s name was mentioned. If he could not hold the German avalanche in check, then the world must weep for Russia. So Mildred became akind of heroine among the nurses because she had received a few moments of the great man’s praise and attention.
Finally, at the end of a week Nona Davis had a second letter from Sonya Valesky. It was sent by a messenger, as the other had been, and Nona was presented with it when she first went on duty on one Saturday morning.
This communication was not merely a note, however, for the envelope was sealed and had a bulky appearance. Yet Nona did not open it all that day or the morning of the next as she had a premonition that the letter was not an ordinary one. Either Madame Valesky was confiding her own history, or she was insisting upon proving to the American girl that she had at one time been a friend of her mother’s. Really, it was this information that Nona both expected and feared. So as she had a particularly difficult case on hand she decided to wait for more leisure before trying to solve the mystery.
The opportunity came when she was allowed two hours rest on Sunday afternoon.
Nona was glad that both Mildred and Barbara were busy at the time, because she preferred to be alone. After her letter had been read and considered then she could decide on the degree of her confidences.
But after all, Barbara’s prediction came true. The story that Sonya Valesky had to tell of her acquaintance with Nona’s mother was not half so strange as the fact that the mother’s history had been concealed from her daughter.
The story was unique but comparatively simple. The only curious fact was the accidental meeting between the Russian woman and the American girl. But then just such comings together of persons with a common bond of interest or affection is an hourly occurrence in the world. Behind such apparent accidents is some law of nature, a like calling unto like.
The older woman explained that she had known Nona’s mother many years ago when they were both children in Russia, although she was a number of years younger. There was as little as possible of SonyaValesky’s own history in the letter. She stated without proof or comment that her father had once been Russian Ambassador to the United States. Here Anna Orlaff, Nona’s mother, had made her a visit and had then gone away south to New Orleans and soon afterwards married. For many years the younger girl had not seen her friend again. She had received letters from her, however, and learned that her marriage was not a success.
Sonya Valesky did her best to explain the situation to Nona. But how was she to know how much or how little an American girl understands of life and conditions in Russia? Was Nona aware that there were many girls and young men, oftentimes members of noble families, who believed in a new and different Russia?
Had Nona ever read of a great writer named Tolstoi, who wrote and preached of the real brotherhood of man? He insisted that the words of Christ should be interpreted literally and desired that Russia, and indeed the world, should have no rich and poor, no Czar and slave, but that allmen and all women were to be truly equal. Nona’s mother had been a follower of Tolstoi’s principles; therefore, her people had sent her away from her own country because they feared if she continued to live in Russia with these ideas she might be condemned to Siberia. So Anna Orlaff had gladly left her own country, believing that in the United States she would find the spirit of true equality.
Naturally her marriage had been a disappointment. At this point in Sonya Valesky’s letter, Nona Davis began to have a faint appreciation of the situation. She remembered the narrow, conservative life of the old south and that her father had lived largely upon traditions of wealth and family, teaching her little else. What did it matter to him that there were no titles in America, no more slaves to do his bidding, when he continued to believe in the domination of one class over another.
Dimly at first, more vividly afterwards, Nona Davis could see the picture of the young Russian girl, a socialist and dreamer, married into such an environment. Howdisappointed and unhappy she must have been in the conservative old city of Charleston, South Carolina! No wonder people had never mentioned her name to her daughter, and that her father had been so silent! A Russian socialist was little less than a criminal.
Nona was seated in a hard wooden chair in a small, cell-like room many thousands of miles away from her own old home. Certainly something stronger than her own wish must have drawn her to Russia, for here she must learn to understand the story of her mother’s life and to find her own place in it.
At this point in the narrative Nona let her letter fall idly in her lap. The girl’s hands were clasped tightly together, for now her imagination could tell her more than any words of another’s.
Her father had been devoted to her, but he had not been fair, neither had his friends nor her own. Why had they always led her to believe by their silences that there was something to be ashamed of in her mother’s story? It was odd, of course,to be different from other people, but there was no sin in being a dreamer.
Nona could see the picture of her mother in the white muslin dress and the blue sash there in their old drawing room in Charleston. She had been only a girl of about her age when she remembered her.
But then what had become of her mother? Why had she gone away?
Again the girl picked up her letter, for the last few sheets must explain.
This portion was hardest of the story to understand, but Sonya Valesky had tried to make it clear.
Nona’s father had insisted that his young wife give up her views of life. She was to read no books, write no letters, have nothing to do with any human being who thought as she did. Above all, she was to make him a written and sacred promise that she would never reveal her ideas of life to her daughter. This Nona’s mother had refused to do and so had gone away, expecting to come back some day when her husband relented.
Within a year she had died. But hereSonya Valesky’s letter ended, for she enclosed another written by Nona’s mother to her friend.
If Nona had needed proof of the truth of the other woman’s statement she could find it here. The letter was yellow with age and very short. It merely asked that if Sonya Valesky should ever find it possible to know her daughter, Nona Davis, would she be her friend?
Then Sonya had also enclosed another proof, if proof were needed. This was a small picture of Nona’s mother which was exactly like the one the girl had found concealed in the back of her father’s watch. It was the same watch with the same picture that she now wore always inside her dress.
Then for nearly an hour the young American girl sat dreaming almost without a movement of her body.
Little by little she recalled stray memories in her life which made her mother’s history appear not so impossible as she had at first conceived. Always she had thought of her as foreign. She had only believedher to be French because she spoke French so perfectly and had married in New Orleans. But then she herself was beginning to learn that educated Russians are among the most accomplished linguists in the world. What else was she to find out about this strange country before her work as a nurse was over? Could she ever feel so entirely an American again?
All at once Nona Davis jumped hastily to her feet. There were hundreds of questions she yearned to ask. Fortunately for her she was near the one person who might be able to answer them. Sonya Valesky had never said why she had not sought to find her friend’s daughter until their accidental meeting on shipboard. Even then she had not recognized Nona’s connection with the past. Was it because she was too engrossed in her own life and her own mysterious mission?
Although she was at this instant engaged in putting on her coat and cap to go to her, Nona again hesitated. How little the Russian woman had said of herself! What was she doing here near the Russian lineof fortifications, living like a peasant with only two old peasants in attendance upon her? And why should the young Russian officer have warned her against his own friend?
“Michael Orlaff.” Automatically Nona Davis repeated the name of her new acquaintance. “Orlaff.” The name was the same as her mother’s. Was there a chance that the young Russian lieutenant might be a possible connection?
However, the girl recognized that she was stupid to continue to ask herself questions. Moreover, she had now made up her mind that she must not distrust Sonya Valesky unless she had a more definite cause. Doubtless Sonya shared the same views of life that her mother had cherished! But in any case it was wonderful to have found a woman who had been her mother’s friend and who might still be hers.
Nona had walked across her small room to the door, when she heard some one knocking.
A summons had been sent for her toreturn to her nursing, as the two hours of her recreation were over. How stupid she had been! Actually Nona had forgotten what had called her to Russia, even the war tragedy that was raging about her. Of course she could not leave the hospital! It might be several days or more before she could hope to receive permission to revisit Sonya.
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FIVE days later Nona Davis went again to the little wooden house, where, to her surprise, she had previously discovered a former acquaintance.
But on this occasion Sonya Valesky did not open the door.
Instead it was opened by the old peasant man whom Nona had seen before.
Today he looked more wretched than stupid. His little black eyes were red rimmed, his sallow skin more wrinkled than ever.
When Nona inquired for Sonya he shook his head disconsolately and then motioned her toward the same room she had formerly entered.
There was now a cot in the room and on this cot lay the Russian woman.
At once Nona forgot herself and her desire to ask questions. She rememberedonly her profession, yes, and one other thing. She recalled the words that the old French peasant, Fran¸ois, had once spoken to her and to Barbara.
“Have you pity only for wounded soldiers? Do girls and women never care to help one another? This war has made wounds deeper than any bullets can create.”
Immediately Nona had seen that Sonya Valesky was very ill. Now, no matter who she was, or what she had done, she must be restored to health. First and last Nona must put her own emotions aside, for the sake of her mission as a Red Cross nurse.
Yet what was she to do? Her services belonged to the soldiers in the Russian fortress.
As quietly and quickly as possible Nona gave her orders.
She could not be sure, but Sonya’s appearance indicated that she was suffering from the terrible scourge of typhus.
This disease had been one of the most terrible results of the war. Because of a greater lack of sanitation and cleanlinessthe fever had been more widespread in Servia and in Russia than in any other countries.
Personally Nona had never nursed a case before, yet she had heard the disease discussed and believed she recognized the symptoms.
First she made a thorough examination of the little house. It was cleaner than most of the peasants’ huts, so far Sonya must have prevailed, but still its conditions left much to be desired.
Without being able to speak more than a few words of their language, Nona yet managed to give her directions.
She was beginning to guess that the old peasant couple, who at first had seemed mysterious companions for the beautiful Russian woman, were probably old servants. If Sonya was a follower of Tolstoi as her mother had been, she must have refused to recognize any difference between them.
But this was not their feeling. The American girl could see that in spirit old Katja and Nika were the devoted slaves of the younger woman.
Sonya was not at first conscious of the seriousness of her illness.
She wore a dressing gown of some rough homespun, a curious shade of Russian blue, the color of her own eyes. Her hair, which had turned far whiter in the past year, was partly concealed under a small lace cap such as the Russian peasant woman often wears. Then, although she did not seem able to talk, she knew Nona and thanked her for coming and for the advice she was giving the two old people.
But when Nona had finished with her orders she came and sat down near Sonya.
“I have read your letter and I have not been able to answer it until now. It seems like a miracle that I should have found out about my own mother here in a strange land. But perhaps I was meant to take care of you. You must promise to do what I tell you. I must go away now, but I’ll come back in a little while.”
Nona was getting up when Sonya took hold of her skirt.
Her face was flushed and her dark blue eyes shining.
“You must not stay in this house, not for long at a time,” she pleaded. “I cannot explain to you why not, but perhaps when I am strong again I can tell you enough to have you guess the rest. Now you must go.”
Sonya took Nona’s cool hands in her hot ones and held them close for a moment.
The next moment the American girl had gone.
At the hospital inside the fortress she explained the situation, at least so far as it could be explained. A Russian woman, who had once been her friend, lay seriously ill at one of the nearby huts. Would one of the hospital physicians come and see her? Also would it be possible for her to be spared from caring for the soldiers to look after her woman friend?
Certainly a Russian doctor would attend the case; moreover, after certain formalities Nona was allowed a leave of absence from the hospital demands.
Then began an experience for the young American girl that nothing in her past two or more years of nursing had equaled.
She was living and working in a new world, amid surroundings which she could not understand and of which she was afraid.
The little hut was crude and lonely. The two old peasants could speak no English, but went about their tasks day after day mute and dolorous. Sonya was too ill to recognize her nurse, and Nona could not allow Barbara or Mildred to come near her, since her patient’s illness was of the most contagious nature.
Naturally Barbara and Mildred wholly disapproved of the risk Nona was running and she had not time nor strength to make them see her side of the situation. She had written them that Sonya Valesky had proved herself to have been an old friend of her mother’s. For that reason and for several others she felt it her duty to care for her.
But strangest of all Nona’s experiences were the fragments of conversation which she heard from the lips of her ill friend.
Sonya sometimes spoke of her girlhood and then again of her life in the UnitedStates and in England. Once or twice she even called the name of Captain Dalton. Nona supposed that she must be recalling her meeting with Captain Dalton at the Sacred Heart Hospital. Then she remembered that Sonya had spoken of knowing the English officer years before.
But although her patient betrayed many facts of her past life to her nurse, never once did Sonya explain why she was living in such an out-of-the-way place. Neither did she give any clue to the kind of work that must have engaged her time and energy. Surely Sonya Valesky must have been upon some secret mission in the days of their first meeting on board the “Philadelphia!” Even then she had papers in her possession which she would allow no one to see.
However, Sonya was too desperately ill to permit her nurse much opportunity for surmising. Nona would never have left her alone for a moment except that she knew it was her duty to keep up her own strength.
Every afternoon she went for a short walk. And because no one but the Russianphysician was allowed to enter the house, now and then the young Russian lieutenant would join Nona along the road. This could only occur when he was able to get leave, yet Nona began to hope for his coming. She was so depressed and lonely.
Once she asked him if he had ever heard of a member of his family named “Anna Orlaff.” Of course she gave no reason for her question. But it made no difference, because the young soldier could recall no such person.
In the course of one of their talks, however, he confided to Nona that he was a younger brother, but that his family were members of the Russian nobility.
Never once, however, did the young man betray any fact connected with Sonya Valesky’s history. He explained that their families had long known each other and that he had always been fond of her, nothing more.
So for this reason as well as others Nona found herself attracted by the young Russian officer. He seemed very simple, much younger than an American of the same age.At this time Michael Orlaff must have been about twenty-three. But Nona was wise enough to discover that he was not so simple and direct as she had first believed him. A Russian does not readily betray either his deeper thoughts or his deeper feelings. The young Russian lieutenant would not even speak of the war nor his own part in it. Yet Nona guessed from her own observation and from certain unconscious information that he was one of the favorite younger officers of the Russian general in command of the Grovno fortifications.
So a number of weeks passed, until now and then Nona Davis almost forgot the war and her original reasons for being in her present strange position. No one brought her papers; Barbara’s and Mildred’s letters contained little war news. The truth was possibly being concealed from them, or else there was no way of their discovering it.
So Nona was at least spared the anxiety of knowing that the victorious German hosts were drawing nearer and nearer the fortress of Grovno. Like stone housesbuilt by children the other ancient Russian forts had fallen before his “Excellenz von Beseler,” the victor of Antwerp, who was known as the German battering ram.
Even when Sonya opened her eyes, after weeks of an almost fatal illness, and asked for news of the war, Nona was unable to tell her.
Then as the days of Sonya’s convalescence went by she would not let her talk of it. Always war is a more terrible thing to girls and women than it is to boys and men. But ever since their first acquaintance Nona had realized that the horror of it went deeper into Sonya’s consciousness than any person she had yet seen. It must be the war that had aged her so in the past year.
So the Russian woman and the American girl spoke of everything else. Sonya told of her own life and of Nona’s mother when they were little girls. They had both been allowed to go away to college. It was in school that they imbibed their revolutionary ideas. No wonder that their families never forgave them!
Sonya was dressed and sitting in her chairthe day when the summons finally came for her arrest.
It was Nona Davis in her nurse’s Red Cross costume who opened the door for the two men in uniform. They were not dressed like soldiers, and as she could not understand what they said, she did not dream of their errand.
But Sonya’s peasant servants must have understood, for at the sight of the strangers they dropped on their knees and held out imploring hands.
Sonya herself finally made things clear. The men were two police officers who had been sent to bring her to Petrograd. She had been in hiding here near Grovno for several months and had hoped to escape their vigilance. Evidently Sonya had been arrested by the Russian authorities.
In spite of Nona’s insistence that her patient was not well enough to be moved, Sonya agreed to go with them at once.
And only at the moment of parting did she bestow any confidence upon the younger girl.
Then she looked deep into Nona’s goldenbrown eyes with her own strangely glowing blue ones, and whispered:
“I have done nothing of which I am ashamed, Nona, or I should never have asked for your friendship. It may be that I can make the Russian people understand, but I do not feel sure. This war has made men blinder than ever. I have only tried to be a follower of the ‘Prince of Peace.’”
Then after she had walked away a few steps she came back again.
“Go back to your United States as soon as you can, Nona,” she urged. “Russia is no place for you or your friends.”
Because Nona Davis dared not trust herself to speak, Sonya afterwards went away without a word of faith or farewell from her.
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ONE afternoon, after Nona had been nursing her friend, Sonya Valesky, for some time, Mildred Thornton went alone into a little Russian church.
The church was situated behind the line of the fortifications at Grovno. Many years before it had been erected, and now it did not occur to the Russian officers that it stood in especial peril. Yet the church had the golden dome of all Russian churches, glittering like a ball of fire in the sun. Certainly it afforded an easy target for the enemy’s guns, and more than this would aid German aeroplanists in making observations of the geography of the surrounding neighborhood. But since Grovno was deemed invincible, apparently no one considered the possibility of the other side to this question.
High cement walls guarded and mountedwith cannon encircled the countryside for many miles, while running out from the fortress itself were numerous secret passages and cells, at present stored with ammunition.
On this afternoon of Mildred’s visit to the church she stood outside for a few moments looking upward. At first she was merely admiring the beauty of the little church. The gold of the dome seemed to be the one appealing spot of color in all the surrounding landscape. Then she opened the bronze doors and stole quietly inside.
Always the church was left open for prayer, but today on entering Mildred Thornton found it empty.
A Russian church is unlike all others except the Greek, for it is filled with brilliant colors. Instead of images such as the Roman Catholics use, the Russians have paintings dealing with the life of Christ, almost obscuring the ceiling and the walls. There are no pews such as we find in our own churches, for the Russian remains standing during his ceremony and kneels upon the stone floor in time of prayer. Soone finds only a few chairs scattered about for old persons and ill ones.
Mildred secured a stool and sat down in the shadow, gazing up toward the high altar.
She was an Episcopalian, therefore the Russian church and its services did not seem so unusual to her as they did to Barbara Meade. Really she had been deeply impressed by the few services she had seen. There was no organ and no music save the intoning of the voices of the priests, and the words of the service she could not understand. Nevertheless the Russians were a deeply religious people and perhaps their reverence had influenced the American girl.
This afternoon, although alone, Mildred felt strangely at peace. Indeed, her eyes were cast down and her hands clasped in prayer, when the noise of some one else entering the church disturbed her reverie.
To the girl’s surprise the figure was that of a man whom the next instant she recognized as General Alexis. He had come into the church without a member of his staff,so that evidently he too desired to be alone for prayer.
What should she do? Mildred was too confused to decide immediately. Feeling herself an intruder, yet she did not wish to create a stir and draw attention to herself by hastily leaving.
General Alexis had evidently not seen her, too intent upon his own devotions. For he had at once approached the altar and knelt reverently before it.
Mildred kept silent, hardly conscious of her own absorption and forgetting her meditations in her interest in the kneeling soldier.
In these days of little faith, small wonder that it struck Mildred as inspiring to see this man of many burdens and responsibilities at the foot of the altar.
From a western window the afternoon sun shone down upon him, revealing the weary lines in the great soldier’s face. He did not look stern or forbidding to Mildred this afternoon, only deeply careworn and depressed. However much his soldiers and the Russian people might trust in hispower to bring them safely through an attack at Grovno, evidently there were hours when the distinguished general suffered like lesser people. Mildred Thornton understood enough of human nature to realize what General Alexis must at this moment be enduring. The fate of a people, of a nation, almost of half the world, in a measure rested in his hands. How inadequate any mortal must feel in the face of such a task!
By and by Mildred’s eyes dropped their lids. She felt that she was seeing too deeply into the holy of holies of the man before her. This would not be just to any human being, unaware of her presence. If only she could get away without disturbing him! Doubtless on discovering her General Alexis would be angered, or at any rate annoyed, perhaps he might even consider her behavior as characteristic American intrusion.
Once Mildred started to her feet, but she did not try to move again, for at almost the same instant the Russian general rose from his knees.
His face had become a little less careworn than at the moment of his entrance; his blue eyes, which were remarkable with his other Russian coloring, were less sombre. Since he did not appear to observe her, Mildred was glad for this last glance at her companion.
Since their one meeting for some reason he had haunted her thoughts more than she could explain. This was partly due to the fact that he was so much talked of at the fortress and so idolized by his soldiers. He was said to be without fear, or any human weakness, but after today Mildred Thornton knew better than this.
Unconsciously the girl must have moved or made a sound of some kind at this instant, for General Alexis, who had almost reached the door, turned quickly around. At the same time his right hand grasped his pistol.
Was there a spy or an assassin lurking in his church to destroy him? There were many men of other lands who would gladly give their lives for his.
But General Alexis’ hand dropped to hisside again, as soon as it had touched the metal of his pistol. To his surprise he had discovered a pair of blue-gray eyes staring at him earnestly, with almost wistful sympathy.
General Alexis came back to where Mildred stood.
“You were here in church with me and I did not see you,” he said as simply and naturally as an ordinary person, “I hope I did not disturb you.”
“Disturb me!” Mildred stuttered a little in her surprise at his words. “Oh, I beg your pardon, it was I who should not have been here when you came. But I did not know, that is I did not dream you ever left the fort, while I like to steal in here during the hours I have for rest. I will not come again.”
General Alexis shook his head. “I should be very sorry. Rather than that this should happen I would stay away during those hours. But is there not room enough here and peace enough for us both?”
Without replying Mildred inclined her head and began walking toward the door, General Alexis keeping beside her.
“If you are returning to the fortress and will permit me, I should like to go back with you?” he asked.
And again Mildred could only stammer a confused acquiescence.
In the little court before the Russian church General Alexis’ guard of soldiers was awaiting him. However, at an inclination of his head they fell in at once, marching at a respectful distance behind their general and his companion.
“I remember our having a short conversation a few weeks ago,” the Russian officer continued gravely, after they had gone on a few yards. Mildred had been vainly endeavoring to make up her mind whether she should be the one to speak. If so, what on earth should she say?
She was glad to be spared having to make up her mind.
“You were very kind,” the girl returned. “I did not imagine you would know me again, but perhaps it is because I am an American.”
Just as if he had been a young man and an everyday one, General Alexis smiled, and Mildred was no longer afraid of him.
“Oh, I may remember you, Miss Thornton, for other reasons. But to be truthful it is because you are an American that I am taking this opportunity to talk to you again.”
This time the Russian officer hesitated.
“You will not mention what I am going to say to any persons except your two American friends,” he added, not as a request, but as a command.
“Miss Thornton, as soon as it is possible for convenient arrangements to be made for you I want you to know that I intend having you sent back to Petrograd. You must of course have a safe escort or I should have seen to the matter sooner.”
Ordinarily Mildred Thornton possessed unusual self-control, but the surprise, indeed, the shock of the speech, took her unawares.
She had not dreamed that she and Barbara and Nona had been such complete failures in their Red Cross work. Why, after their several years of war experience they had felt themselves of perhaps unusual value in the Russian nursing. Sofar as she knew there had been no complaints of their work, only praise. But in any case how could their failures have reached General Dmitri Alexis’ ears? It seemed incredible that he should ever be annoyed with such trifling concerns.
“Just as you wish,” Mildred answered quietly, yet with greater personal dignity than any one of the other American Red Cross girls could have summoned. “We have done our best to help with the nursing. If we have failed it is, of course, wisest that we should return to Petrograd. Afterwards we can go home to the United States.”
“Failed in your nursing? And it is for that reason you believe I wish to have you sent away from my fortress?”
Actually General Alexis stopped in his walk and faced his companion, since Mildred was, of course, obliged to stop also.
“That is folly. I know nothing of your nursing. But from your face, from a something, a serenity and strength that your presence suggests, I feel that you must understand and love your profession.”
General Alexis was now studying Mildred Thornton with surprising intentness, as though he were trying in this moment of their acquaintance to pierce beneath the surface of the girl before him. This was characteristic of the man. No human being was ever too small or too unimportant for his consideration. He was a strange combination: a great soldier and yet one of the gentlest of men.
“I want you to go back to Petrograd because I fear for your safety and the safety of your friends should you remain much longer at Grovno,” he continued. “It is of this fact you are not to speak. I have reason to know that at almost any hour in the next few days we may expect the German attack. Grovno will resist to the uttermost. But it may be that the old fortifications are not so invincible as we once thought them to be. A new war has brought a new world and the old order changeth.”
Once again Mildred saw beneath the outer surface of the man, but almost at once he was again the soldier.
“You understand that I do not expect this. If I decide it may be wiser to retreat, it will only be to form a conjunction with another part of Grand Duke Nicholas’ army. But in any case I should prefer to have you three American nurses away from all possible danger. The Russian nurses will share the fate of their own soldiers. Be prepared to leave within a few days. When the necessary arrangements are made you will receive instructions.”
Then before Mildred could protest, and she had scarcely the courage for this, they had reached the gate of the fortress.
Here General Alexis bowed and waited for his guard to come up with him. Mildred could feel the surprise even of the sentries at the gate and the few soldiers who chanced to be near at their unexpected appearance. Truly it was amazing that the great commander should be concerned with the fate of three unimportant American girls, and even more amazing that he should actually show his consideration and friendliness to one of them!
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TWO hours after Sonya Valesky had been taken away by the Russian police Nona Davis started back for the Russian fortress.
Only a few moments were required to pack her own belongings, since the little house and everything inside it had been fumigated as soon as Sonya reached a state of convalescence. Nona’s time had been spent in trying to comfort Sonya’s servants, old Katja and Nika, and also in trying to acquire some information from them.
In neither effort was she successful. Either the old man and woman knew nothing of Sonya’s actions, or else they were too grief-stricken to confide their knowledge. There was also the third possibility that Sonya had warned them against betraying her to any human being.Whatever the reason, they were dumb, except for their half-broken Russian prayers and stories of Sonya as a little girl. If she had not long ago been fully aware of the fact, Nona was now assured that the two peasants had been former servants of the Russian woman. It was Sonya who would not recognize the distinctions of maid and mistress, who called herself by no title and would allow her servants to call her by none.
Therefore it was almost night when Nona left the little hut, old Nika carrying her bag and plodding behind her. The girl felt that she must return to her two American friends to receive their aid and sympathy.
Surely something could be done for Sonya, it was horrible to think of her being carried off to a Russian prison, concerning which one had read such dreadful stories. She was too ill and she seemed so utterly without friends or relatives. Yet Nona herself was utterly powerless, knowing no one with any influence in Russia. Nevertheless she felt a strange bond, whichhad come to her out of the past, between herself and Sonya Valesky.
One person, however, might be willing to give her advice, though she doubted his help. In returning to the fort, Nona meant as soon as possible to request an interview with the young Russian officer, Michael Orlaff.
She was not frightened during her walk through the dismal Russian country. Wearing her Red Cross uniform she felt a sufficient protection, besides old Nika’s presence. But the real truth is she was too absorbed in considering Sonya’s history and fate to be aware of anything else.
She was therefore more annoyed than frightened when a figure appeared before her at the crossing of the road by the Three Pines. The voice that straightway called out to them held a quality of command that made Nika drop at once on his knees. Nona was not in the least frightened, but then she had seen the outline of the young officer’s figure and the glistening of his sword hilt.
“I am Nona Davis, an American Red Cross nurse on my way back to the fortress, Lieutenant Orlaff,” the girl explained. “I am glad to have met you, as perhaps you will tell me what I must do when I reach the gate.”
The Russian officer saluted as though Nona had been a superior officer.
“I was on my way at the present moment to Sonya Valesky’s home to inquire for her. This is the first hour of freedom I have been able to command all day. But tell me what brings you back to the fortress at this time? Has Sonya grown worse or is she better?”
Here was her opportunity. Nona felt that fate must have sent it to her by a special dispensation. Now there need be no delay in her confidence.
Lieutenant Orlaff came of a noble family, he must have powerful connections, if he could only be persuaded to use them in Sonya’s behalf. Certainly he had appeared to be her friend, although disapproving of her behavior and views of life.
As sympathetically and as quickly aspossible Nona told of the coming of the Russian police. Then she laid great stress on the fact that Sonya was too ill to have been taken away at such a time. Yet she had gone without resistance, making no plea for herself and asking for no aid. What musttheydo? The situation was unendurable.
Intentionally Nona used the pronoun “they,” including Lieutenant Orlaff with herself in their interest in Sonya. Yet except for his first muttered exclamation the Russian officer had made no comment.
In the darkness Nona gazed at him resentfully. The Russians were a cruel people, sometimes all fire and then again all ice. She would like to have told him what an American man would have attempted for a friend, who was a woman and in such a tragic position, no matter what her crime or mistake. But Nona was sure by this time that Sonya Valesky had committed no crime. She had come to know her too well, her exquisite gentleness, so oddly combined with a blind determination that took no thought of self.Besides she recalled her friend’s final words, “a follower of the Prince of Peace.” Surely there were but few such followers in the European world today!
Awaiting his answer, Nona continued to look at her companion. The young Russian might have stood for the figure of “Mars,” the young god of war, as he strode along beside her. He was six feet in height, splendidly made, and tonight in the semi-darkness his face showed hard and unmoved.
“I am grieved but not surprised at what you tell me,” he returned the next moment. “Not a hundred, but a thousand times I have warned Sonya that she must give up her mad ideas. There was sufficient danger in them when the world was at peace. Now in time of war to preach that men are brothers, that there should be no such thing as patriotism, that all men are kin, no matter what their country, there never was such folly. It is hard to feel pity or patience.”
“Then you will do nothing to help?” Nona inquired, trying to hide the angershe felt. “Of course I understand that from your point of view and from the view of nearly all the world Sonya Valesky is hopelessly wrong. But I can’t see why she should be punished because she has a higher ideal than other people?”
If Nona had only thought for a moment she would have realized that the world has always thus rewarded its visionaries.
“But Sonya is not content to think in this way alone. She has spent her life in trying to persuade other persons to her view, and has many followers. Once she was a very rich woman and traveled in many lands preaching her universal brotherhood,” the young officer ended his speech with a characteristic shrug of his shoulders, which is the Oriental fashion of announcing that fate is stronger than one’s will.
“To have continued advocating such a doctrine in a time of war was worse than madness. I have done what I could, I have even risked my own honor and safety in remaining Sonya’s friend. Now retribution has come,” he concluded, as though the subject was not to be resumed.
And Nona did not reply at once. So the young Russian officer and the American girl walked on toward the fortress through darkness that was each moment growing more dense. There were no lights save the stars, since the fortress was only dimly lighted in the interior; outside lights would too plainly have exposed their position to the enemy.
“What then do you think will become of Sonya? What punishment will she have to suffer?” Nona inquired when she felt that she had gotten her voice under control.
“Siberia,” Lieutenant Orlaff returned briefly. Then feeling that his companion desired him to say more, he went on:
“In many cases a man or woman who has done what Sonya Valesky has would be hung as a traitor. She has been preaching peace, which means she has been urging men not to fight. That is treason to Russia. But I believe that Sonya will be lightly dealt with because she comes of a family that once served the Czar and his father. Besides, Sonya is a woman and a beautifulone and it would not do to make a martyr of her.”
“Then you think Siberia a light punishment?” Nona questioned, no longer trying to keep the bitterness out of her tones. “Well, surely you accept a friend’s misfortune easily! I have not your philosophy. I do not think I can do much, as I have no friends in Russia and no money, but as soon as I receive permission I shall go to Petrograd to be of whatever service I can.”
Lieutenant Orlaff stared at the girl beside him. It was impossible to see anything but the outline of her face, yet he could observe its pallor and the sheen of her hair under the nurse’s cap. Besides, he felt the contempt she had not allowed herself to express, for the Russian is singularly proud and sensitive.
“I repeat that I am very sorry,” the young officer added. “You are wrong in thinking I take Sonya Valesky’s fate lightly. Her family and mine, as I once told you, have been friends for many years. After the death of her parents my father was for a little time her guardian until shecame of age. I will do what I can; I will write letters to her relatives and to people who were once her friends. But I warn you to expect nothing. Long ago they became weary of her wild theories and have had nothing to do with her for years.”
“Then all the more reason why I should do what I can. Even if I accomplish nothing, at least Sonya will have the comfort of knowing that a friend is near her during her trial,” the girl said aloud, although really not addressing her companion.
During the latter part of his speech she had been thinking very rapidly. First of all, she must ask for a leave of absence from her Red Cross nursing and explain that it was necessary for her to return to Petrograd for a time. But where was she to obtain the money for her expenses? She had nothing of her own except the few roubles which she was paid for her work and which she had forfeited when she undertook to care for Sonya Valesky. In all probability when Mildred Thornton knew her mission she could borrow themoney from her. But then this would mean a delay so long that she might be of no service to Sonya. For Mildred kept only a small amount of extra money with her and would be compelled to write her father for any large sum. Weeks would pass before Judge Thornton could receive his daughter’s request and then there would be more time required for the transmission of the check.
However, besides Mildred there was Eugenia who could be appealed to for aid. There was no doubt of Eugenia’s assistance, once she learned Sonya Valesky’s story and realized why she had seemed a suspicious character to all of them in the days of their meeting on board the “Philadelphia.” But Eugenia was away off somewhere in France nursing in a Red Cross hospital near her husband’s line of trenches. It would also take time to reach Eugenia. Nevertheless she was the best person to whom to make a request.
“But what connection have you with Sonya Valesky? Why should you not be willing to leave her to her fate?” LieutenantOrlaff had to ask the second time before Nona heard him. “You have done what you could in nursing her through a dangerous illness; friendship could expect nothing more. Besides, you are an American girl and can have only a slight acquaintance with Sonya.”
Again Nona Davis did not reply immediately. How much or how little should she take the Russian officer into her confidence? However, it did not seem to her of much importance then.
“You are mistaken. I am not simply an American girl,” Nona explained quietly. “My father was an American, but my mother was a Russian. She and Sonya Valesky knew each other as girls, although my mother was the older. There is a stronger tie between us than you imagine. And I have reason to believe that my mother once thought as Sonya does about many things.”
“Your mother, impossible!” Michael Orlaff exclaimed, with more consternation and regret in his voice than was reasonable. “But you, surely you cherish no such ideas?”
The American girl shook her head, although she seemed to be pondering over her companion’s question before replying.
“No,” she returned at last. “I have no such ideas and I believe never will have them. Even though my mother was a Russian, I am an American in all my feelings and instincts and training. Russia fascinates me, but it frightens me at the same time. Besides, it is not necessary in our country that we should teach peace and equality, because it is in those two principles that the American people most believe. If Sonya is released I mean to try and take her back to the United States with me to remain until the war is over.”
“But Sonya will not be released, I have tried to make you understand,” Lieutenant Orlaff added doggedly. “What is one woman more or less in times like these? Go to Petrograd if you will, Miss Davis. I have told you it is not wise for you and your friends to remain at Grovno. But when you reach Petrograd have nothing to do with Sonya Valesky. I have known you only a short time, yet I amyour friend and I warn you. Cannot you see that I care very much what becomes of you? You are a guest in my country; you have come to do us a service. It would be a poor return if trouble overtook you.”
Nona and Lieutenant Orlaff with old Nika hobbling behind them had by this time about reached the entrance to the fortress. Nona was truly grateful. She was very tired and depressed from the day’s experiences. Moreover, she did not understand the manner or the words of the young officer beside her. At one moment he seemed extraordinarily hard and at the next unnecessarily concerned. Nothing could happen to her in Petrograd of a serious character, but in any case her experiences could not interest Lieutenant Orlaff.
As soon as possible Nona said good-by to him. Later, in recalling their conversation, she often thought of a phrase he used: “What is one woman more or less in times like these?”
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THERE was a great deal more for the three American Red Cross girls to confide to one another than they could find time for, soon after Nona Davis’ return to the fortress.
But two evenings later it chanced that the three girls were all on day duty and therefore had the same evening and night free.
In the left wing of the fortress, near the hospital quarters, was the single, small bedroom which the three American nurses shared. Once before Nona had discovered Barbara Meade rereading one of Dick Thornton’s letters and giving way to the blues in their small, cold chamber. This evening she made the discovery a second time.
It chanced that Barbara had gotten away from her nursing first and hurriedoff to the only privacy that was possible under the circumstances. Because she was looking forward to a long and serious conversation with her two friends she made ready to meet the situation as comfortably as possible. This means that Barbara slipped out of her nursing uniform and into the pretty kimono that Mildred had presented her with long ago in Paris. Then, while she waited for the others, she read Dick’s and Eugenia’s latest letters once again.
At last Dick had arrived in New York City and was writing from the lovely home Barbara remembered so well. He had only been there a little while when this letter had been written, but already Dick had confided the news of his engagement to his mother and father.
Barbara could read between the lines in a characteristic feminine fashion. Dick declared that his father was delighted to hear of his happiness and that he had not forgotten that they probably owed their son’s life to the girl to whom he was now engaged.
But Judge Thornton agreed with his son—a man should be able to support his wife before he married. Therefore he meant to do all that he could to get Dick started in the right way, so that he might go ahead as quickly as possible.
Dick did not seem to feel that it would take very long to accomplish this delectable result, but to Barbara, away off in Russia, a land she both disliked and feared, the situation looked pretty indefinite.
Moreover, Dick had said nothing about the way in which his mother had received the news of a prospective daughter-in-law. This was not an oversight on Dick’s part; Barbara understood him too well to be deceived into any such impression. He and his mother were too intimate and devoted for him not to care intensely about her attitude toward the girl he wished to marry. Never could he have forgotten to mention his mother’s position! No, it was merely what she had always expected. Mrs. Thornton thoroughly disapproved of her son’s engagement and Dick would not wound the girl he loved by writing herthis fact. Later there was a chance that his mother might be persuaded to change her mind. But in any case it would be easier to explain by word of mouth than coldly to set down the present situation.
Moreover, if Barbara had required further proof, she would have had it in the fact that Mrs. Thornton had not written her a single line to say either that she was glad or sorry that the daughter of her husband’s old friend had become engaged to her only son. If she had spoken of the matter to Mildred, Mildred had never referred to it, proving again that any comment from Mrs. Thornton must have been unfavorable.
While she made these reflections following the rereading of her fiancé’s letter, Barbara was lying on her cot-bed with an army blanket drawn close up under her chin. Now she buried her curly head deeper in her pillow and turned from Dick’s to Eugenia’s letter.
It was difficult to think of Eugenia Peabody as Madame Castaigne, indeed as the Countess Castaigne, only neithershe nor her husband would ever be induced to use their titles. The old Countess might always remain in safe possession of hers.
Barbara wondered if Eugenia was happier than she was. Then she felt ashamed of herself. Eugenia’s husband was every instant in danger of losing his life, while Dick had only returned to the United States, where he was now safe in his own home. Yet Eugenia’s letter made no complaints. She mentioned having seen Captain Castaigne once in the past month, when he had received a leave of absence of twenty-four hours and had hurried to her.
No, Eugenia’s letter was chiefly devoted, as all her previous letters had been, to her interest and concern in the three American Red Cross girls. She wished them to return immediately to France and to the old chateau, where the Countess Castaigne would be only too happy to shelter them. Later, if they wished, they could find other Red Cross work to do in France. But Russia was not a country where the girlsshould have gone at this time, and certainly not without her to look after them. Moreover, the news from the Russian lines grew more and more alarming. Everywhere the Germans seemed to be conquering. It was disheartening after the Russian triumphs at the beginning of the war. The letter closed with a final plea: would Barbara do her best to persuade Nona and Mildred that they should as soon as possible come back to France. There would be no cowardice or desertion of duty in leaving Russia at present, only discretion and good sense.
And upon this point of view Barbara was reflecting when Nona found her.
Personally Barbara agreed with Eugenia and wished that Nona and Mildred would join her in withdrawing from Russia whenever they could best be spared. But she could not decide whether she ought to thrust her point of view upon her friends since she was uncertain whether her judgment or her desire most swayed her.
France would be so much nearer New York and therefore Dick’s letters couldbe so much more frequent. Then there was the Countess Castaigne, to whom she could pour out all her heartburnings. Moreover, there was the chance of every now and then seeing her beloved Eugenia.
But Barbara also remembered that she had always been the least brave and determined of the four American nurses ever since their arrival in Europe. Should she reveal herself in the selfsame light again?
At this instant Nona snuggled under the blanket beside the younger girl.
The Russian winter was fast approaching and frequently it was bitterly cold. Besides, there were no chairs in the Red Cross girls’ bedroom, only the three beds and some stools, so it was simpler to lie down than be seated.
“I have a long story to tell you, Bab, and I want your advice, only I think we had best wait for Mildred, so you may not have to hear everything twice,” Nona began.
“You mean about Sonya Valesky?” Barbara queried. Of course Nona had told her two friends of Sonya’s arrest,but had not been able to go into the details of the story, nor had she mentioned her own intentions. Very possibly both the girls would disapprove, as Lieutenant Orlaff had done, of her becoming more closely involved with Sonya Valesky’s history.
Fortunately Mildred appeared at the door without further delay.
But when she entered the room, both of her companions could see that she also had something of importance upon her mind which she wished to discuss at once.
Instead of lying down, Mildred immediately seated herself upon the edge of her cot, facing her friends. Then she drew her own blanket up around her shoulders.
“Girls,” she began, “I don’t usually do the talking, but I want both of you to listen to me for a few moments tonight. I have been trying to speak of this for several days, and if I don’t tell you now the order may come when you are wholly unprepared. We are to be sent back to Petrograd as soon as a safe escort can be found for us.”
“Sent back to Petrograd! Thank fate for even so much!” Barbara whispered under the cover. “Petrograd might be the beginning of a return journey to France.”
Then she drew her chin up, endeavoring to appear deeply wounded.
“Do you mean, Mildred, that our services as Red Cross nurses are not considered valuable?” she demanded. “Why, only today one of the Russian surgeons declared that it was difficult to decide which one of us did the best work. Of course, I think Mildred at present deserves the prize, Nona has been off duty so long in taking care of Sonya Valesky.”
Mildred Thornton glanced from one girl’s face to the other. In spite of Barbara’s effort to conceal her pleasure, it was evident that she was secretly rejoicing. But Mildred understood Barbara’s position; it was natural that she should feel as she did under the circumstances. Then Barbara had never put forth any claims to being a martyr.
What really surprised Mildred Thorntonwas Nona Davis’ expression of relief, almost of pleasure, at her news.
Why, Nona had been more enthusiastic than any one of them over the Red Cross nursing in Russia! She it was who had originally planned their coming into Russia and had been most deeply interested since their arrival.
“But why are we to be sent back to Petrograd?” Nona also demanded, frowning a little in her effort to grasp the situation. “What reason was given; have we failed in any duty or service since our arrival at Grovno?” Nona went on, sitting up, while two spots of color appeared in her cheeks. “Please, Mildred, don’t be mysterious. Tell us where you received your information and why we are to be sent away so ignominiously?”
Mildred Thornton shook her head in quiet reproach. She was not so impatient nor so unreasonable as the other two girls.
“I am waiting to tell you,” she returned. “The other afternoon I was sitting alone in the little Russian church when General Dmitri Alexis came in. On leaving hechanced to discover me and asked me to walk with him for a few moments. You know I told you I had met him the day he came into my hospital ward to decorate the dying soldier?” Mildred added.
This time her companions only nodded, not wishing to interrupt.
“Well, it was General Alexis himself who said that he wished us to go back to Petrograd. It was not that he felt the fortress at Grovno would not be able to hold out against the German attacks, but that a soldier should be prepared for any emergency. In case Grovno should fall, or General Alexis decide it wiser to retreat and join another portion of Grand Duke Nicholas’ army, he does not wish us at Grovno. He says that the Russian Red Cross nurses have the right to remain with their own soldiers, but that we are Americans and with us the circumstances are different. He does not intend that harm shall befall us. So I am afraid we have no choice in the matter. As soon as the order comes from General Alexis we must be ready to leave at once. One can scarcelydare disobey the commander in chief,” Mildred concluded, with regret in her tones.
“Certainly not,” Barbara added with emphasis.
Then for another moment Nona Davis continued gazing thoughtfully at Mildred.
“I suppose I ought to tell you, Mildred, you and Barbara both, that I am not sorry we are to go to Petrograd; indeed, I am truly glad. Because I had intended to try to get permission to return there alone. You know I told you of Sonya’s arrest, but I did not tell you that I intend to do all that I possibly can to befriend her. She seems to have no one who cares what becomes of her so far as I can find out, except her two old servants, Katja and Nika. I may not be able to do much, but I have written Eugenia, asking her to lend me some money and to forward it to the American Ambassador at Petrograd as soon as possible. I would like to leave almost at once. You see, I don’t know what has become of Sonya, nor when her trial may take place.”
“And for my part I hope you may neverknow,” Barbara protested, sitting up with her cheeks suddenly crimson and her hair much tousled.
“See here, girls, I know neither of you think much of my advice, and very probably you don’t consider me especially brave. I’m not disputing the last point. But I am more sensible than either of you and I can see both sides of a situation better. Mildred is an idealist, and Nona, you are a dreamer. You think you are not, but I expect you have more of your mother’s blood in you than you realize. I am desperately sorry for Sonya Valesky. I think she is an exquisite and much-wronged woman with the courage and devotion necessary to a martyr. But I don’t see that you are particularly fitted to follow her example, Nona. That is all that would happen if you attempt to mix yourself up with Sonya Valesky’s political fortunes in Petrograd. You have no important friends and could do absolutely nothing for her, but you might manage to get yourself and us, because we care for you, into a great deal of hot water.”
Mildred began to undress.
“I think Bab is right, Nona, though I understand just how you feel. It does seem too cruel to desert a friend in a time of such extremity. When we get to Petrograd perhaps we can talk Sonya Valesky’s case over with our Ambassador and he may help us with his advice. Let’s get to sleep now; we can judge more wisely in the morning.”
It was too cold for a leisurely disrobing, so in a very short time the three girls were ready for the night. Soon after they were asleep.
For many hours, lasting all through the darkness, the fortress at Grovno appeared wrapped in a profound silence. This in spite of the presence of many thousands of men without and within its gates. Now and then there may have been the faint noise of a sentry changing his watch, or a scout arriving with a report for headquarters.
It was just at dawn when the German attack began. But the Russian general had been warned and was awaiting it.