interlude(玛丽罗茨莱因哈特惊人的幕间表演)-第13部分
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glance disappeared。
Sara Lee watched him out of sight； in a very real panic。 He had been
something real and tangible in that shadowy place … something familiar in
an unfamiliar world。 But he was gone。 She threw up her head。
So once more Sara Lee picked up her suitcase and went down the pier。
Now she was unchallenged。 What lurking figure might he on the dark
deck of the Calais boat she could not tell。 That was the chance she was to
take。 The gangway was still out； and as quietly as possible she went
aboard。 The Boulogne boat had suddenly gone dark； and she heard the
churning of the screw。 With the extinction of the lights on the other boat
came at last deeper night to her aid。 A few steps； a stumble； a gasp … and
she was on board the forbidden ship。
She turned forward； according to her instructions； where the overhead
deck made below an even deeper shadow。 Henri had said that there were
cabins there； and that the chance was of finding an unlocked one。 If they
were all locked she would be discovered at dawn； and arrested。 And Sara
Lee was not a war correspondent。 She was not accustomed to arrest。
Indeed she had a deep conviction that arrest in her case would mean death。
False； of course； but surely it shows her courage。
As she stood there； breathless and listening； the Boulogne boat moved
out。 She heard the wash against the jetty； felt the rolling of its waves。 But
being on the landward side she could not see the faint gleam of a cigarette
that marked Henri's anxious figure at the rail。 So long as the black hulk of
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THE AMAZING INTERLUDE
the Calais boat was visible； and long after indeed； Henri stood there；
outwardly calm but actually shaken by many fears。 She had looked so
small and young； and who could know what deviltry lurked abroad that
night？
He had not gone with her because it was necessary that he be in
Boulogne the next morning。 And also； the very chance of getting her
across lay in her being alone and unobserved。
So he stood by the rail and looked back and said a wordless little
prayer that if there was trouble it come to his boat and not to the other。
Which might very considerably have disturbed the buyers had they known
of it and believed in prayer。
Sara Lee stood in the shadows and listened。 There were voices
overhead； from the bridge。 A door opened onto the deck and threw out a
ray of light。 Some one came out and went on shore； walking with brisk
ringing steps。 And then at last she put down her bag and tried door after
door； without result。
The man who had gone ashore called another。 The gangway was
drawn in。 The engines began to vibrate under foot。 Sara Lee； breathless
and terrified； stood close to a cabin door and remained immovable。 At one
moment it seemed as if a seaman was coming forward to where she stood。
But he did not come。
The Calais boat was waiting until the other steamer had got well out of
the harbor。 The fog had lifted； and the searchlight was moving over the
surface。 It played round the channel steamer without touching it。 But none
of this was visible to Sara Lee。
At last the lights of the quay began to recede。 The little boat rocked
slightly in its own waves as it edged away。 It moved slowly through the
shipping and out until； catching the swell of the channel； it shot ahead at
top speed。
For an hour Sara Lee stood there。 The channel wind caught her and
tore at her skirts until she was almost frozen。 And finally； in sheer
desperation； she worked her way round to the other side。 She saw no one。
Save for the beating heart of the engine below it might have been a dead
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THE AMAZING INTERLUDE
ship。
On the other side she found an open door and stumbled into the tiny
dark deck cabin； as chilled and frightened a philanthropist as had ever
crossed that old and tricky and soured bit of seaway。 And there； to be frank；
she forgot her fright in as bitter a tribute of seasickness as even the
channel has ever exacted。
She had locked herself in； and she fell at last into an exhausted sleep。
When she wakened and peered out through the tiny window it was gray
winter dawn。 The boat was quiet； and before her lay the quay of Calais and
the Gare Maritime。 A gangway was out and a hurried survey showed no
one in sight。
Sara Lee picked up her suitcase and opened the door。 The fresh
morning air revived her； but nevertheless it was an extremely pale young
woman who； obeying Henri's instructions； went ashore that morning in the
gray dawn unseen； undisturbed and unqestioned。 But from the moment she
appeared on the gangway until the double glass doors of the Gare
Maritime closed behind her this apparently calm young woman did not
breathe at all。 She arrived； indeed； with lungs fairly collapsed and her
heart entirely unreliable。
A woman clerk was asleep at a desk。 Sara Lee roused her to half
wakefulness； no interest and extremely poor English。 A drowsy porter led
her up a staircase and down an endless corridor。 Then at last he was gone；
and Sara Lee turned the key in her door and burst into tears。
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CHAPTER VII
Now up to this point Sara Lee's mind had come to rest at Calais。 She
must get there； after that the other things would need to be worried over。
Henri had already in their short acquaintance installed himself as the
central figure of this strange and amazing interlude … not as a good…looking
young soldier surprisingly fertile in expedients； but as a sort of agent of
providence； by whom and through whom things were done。
And Henri had said she was to go to the Gare Maritime at Calais and
make herself comfortable … if she got there。 After that things would be
arranged。
Sara Lee therefore took a hot bath； though hardly a satisfactory one；
for there was no soap and she had brought none。 She learned later on to
carry soap with her everywhere。 So she soaked the chill out of her slim
body and then dressed。 The room was cold； but a great exultation kept her
warm。 She had run the blockade； she had escaped the War Office … which；
by the way； was looking her up almost violently by that time； via the
censor。 It had found the trunk she left at Morley's； and cross…questioned
the maid into hys…teria … and here she was； safe in France； the harbor of
Calais before her； and here and there strange…looking war craft taking on
coal。 Destroyers； she learned later。 Her ignorance was rather appalling at
first。
It was all unreal … the room with its cold steam pipes； the heavy
window hangings； the very words on the hot and cold taps in the bathroom。
A great vessel moved into the harbor。 As it turned she saw its name printed
on its side in huge letters； and the flag； also painted； of a neutral country …
a hoped…for protection against German submarines。 It brought home to her；
rather； the thing she had escaped。
After a time she thought of food； but rather hopelessly。 Her attempts to
get savon from a stupid boy had produced nothing more useful than a flow
of unintelligible French and no soap whatever。 She tried a pantomime of
washing her hands； but to the boy she had appeared to be merely wringing
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them。 And； as a great many females were wringing their hands in France
those days； he had gone away； rather sorry for her。
When hunger drove her to the bell again he came back and found her
with her little phrase book in her hands； feverishly turning the pages。 She
could find plenty of sentences such as 〃Garcon； vous avez renverse du vin
sur ma robe；〃 but not an egg lifted its shining pate above the pages。 Not
cereal。 Not fruit。 Not even the word breakfast。
Long； long after ward Sara Lee found a quite delightful breakfast
hidden between two pages that were stuck together。 But it was then far too
late。
〃Donnez…moi；〃 began Sara Lee； and turned the pages rapidly； 〃this； do
you see？〃 She had found roast beef。
The boy ob
