interlude(玛丽罗茨莱因哈特惊人的幕间表演)-第30部分
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forgot certain instructions whispered her by the general； and after a time
the King said： 〃Why do you do that； mademoiselle？〃
For Sara Lee； with an intent face and moving lips； had been stepping
backward。
Sara Lee flushed to the eyes。
〃Because； sire； I was told to remain at a distance of six feet。〃
〃But we are being informal；〃 said the King； smiling。 〃And it is a very
little room。〃
Sara Lee； who had been taught in the schoolroom that kings are
usurpers of the divine rights of the people … Sara Lee lost just a bit of her
staunch democracy that day。 She saw the King of the Belgians for what he
really was； a ruler； but a symbol as well。 He represented his country； as the
Flag she loved represented hers。 The flag was America； the King was
Belgium。 That was all。
It was a very humble and flushed Sara Lee who watched the gray car
go lying up the street later on。 She went in and told the whole story to
Harvey's picture； but it was difficult to feel that he was hearing。 His eyes
were turned away and his face was set and stern。 And at last she gave it up。
This thing which meant so much to her would never mean anything to
Harvey。 She knew； even then； what he would say。
〃Decorate you！ I should think they might。 Medals are cheap。
Everybody over there is getting medals。 You feed their men and risk your
life and your reputation； and they give you a thing to pin on。 It's cheap at
the price。〃
And later on those were Harvey's very words。 But to be fair to him
they were but the sloughing of a wound that would not heal。
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That evening Henri came again。 He was； for the first time； his gay self
again … at least on the surface。 It was as though； knowing what he was
going into； he would leave with Sara Lee no feeling； if he never returned；
that she had inflicted a lasting hurt。 He was everywhere in the little house；
elbowing his way among the men with his cheery nonsense； bantering the
weary ones until they smiled； carrying hot water for Sara Lee and helping
her now and then with a bad dressing。
〃If you would do it in this fashion； mademoiselle；〃 he would say； 〃with
one turn of the bandage over the elbow …〃
But it won't hold that way。〃
〃You say that to me； mademoiselle？ I who have taught you all you
know of bandaging？〃
They would wrangle a bit； and end by doing it in Sara Lee's way。
He had a fund of nonsense that he drew on； too； when a dressing was
painful。 It would run like this； to an early accompaniment of groans：
〃Pierre； what can you put in your left hand that you cannot place in the
right？ Stop grunting like a pig； and think； man！〃
Pierre would give a final rumble and begin to think deeply。
〃I cannot think。 I … in my left hand； monsieur le capitaine？〃
〃In your left hand。〃
The little crowd in the dressing room would draw in close about the
table to listen。
〃I do not know； monsieur。〃
〃Idiot！〃 Henri would say。 〃Your right elbow； man！〃
And the dressing was done。
He had an inexhaustible stock of such riddles； almost never guessed。
He would tell the answer and then laugh delightedly。 And pain seemed to
leave the little room when he entered it。
It was that night that Henri disappeared。
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CHAPTER XVII
THERE was a question to settle； and it was for Henri to do it。 Two
questions indeed。 One was a matter of engineering； and before the bottom
fell out of his world Henri had studied engineering。 The second was more
serious。
For the first； this thing had happened。 Of all the trenches to be held；
the Belgians had undeniably the worst。 Properly speaking they were not
trenches at all； but shallow gutters dug a foot or two into the saturated
ground and then built man…high with bags of earth or sand。 Here and there
they were not dug at all； but were purely shelters； against a railway
embankment； of planks or sandbags； and reinforced by rails from the
deserted track behind which they were hidden。
For this corner of Belgium had been saved by turning it into a shallow
lake。 By opening the gates in the dikes the Allies had let in the sea and
placed a flood in front of the advancing enemy。 The battle front was a
reeking pond。 The opposing armies lived like duck hunters in a swamp。 To
dig a foot was to encounter water。 Machine guns here and there sat but six
inches above the yellow flood。 Men lay in pools to fire them。 To reach
outposts were narrow paths built first of bags of earth … a life； sometimes
for every bag。 And； when this filling was sufficient； on top a path of
fascines； bound together in bundles； made a footway。
For this reason the Belgians approached their trenches not through
deep cuts which gave them shelter but with no other cover than the
darkness of night。 During the day； they lay in their shallow dugouts； cut
off from any connection with the world behind them。 Food； cooked miles
away； came up at night； cold and unappetizing。 For water； having
exhausted their canteens； there was nothing but the brackish tide before
them； ill smelling and reeking of fever。 Water carts trundled forward at
night； but often they were far too few。
The Belgians； having faced their future through long years of anxiety；
had been trained to fight。 In a way they had been trained to fight a losing
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war； for they could not hope to defeat their greedy neighbor on the east。
But now they found themselves fighting almost not at all； condemned to
inactivity； to being almost passively slaughtered by enemy artillery； and to
living under such conditions as would have sapped the courage of a less
desperate people。
To add to the difficulties； not only did the sea encroach； turning a
fertile land into a salt marsh； but the winter rains； unusually heavy that
tragic first winter； and lacking their usual egress to the sea； spread the
flood。 There were many places well back of the lines where fields were
flooded； and where roads； sadly needed； lost themselves in unfordable
wallows of mud and water。
Henri then； knowing all this … none better … had his first question to
settle； which was this： As spring advanced the flood had commenced to
recede。 Time came when； in those trenches now huddled shallow behind
the railway track； one could live in a certain comfort。 In the deeper ones
the bottom of the trench appeared for the first time。
On a day previous； however； the water had commenced to come back。
There had been no rain； but little by little in a certain place yellow； ill…
smelling little streams began to flow sluggishly into the trenches。 Seeped；
rather than flowed。 At first the Belgian officers laid it to that bad luck that
bad so persistently pursued them。 Then they held a conference in the small
brick house with its maps and its pine tables and its picture of an American
harvester on the wall； which was now headquarters。
Sitting under the hanging lamp； with an orderly making coffee at a
stove in the corner； they talked it over。 Henri was there； silent before his
elders； but intently listening。 And at last they turned to him。
〃I can go and find out；〃 he said quietly。 〃It is possible； though I do not
see how。〃 He smiled。 〃They are； I think； only drying themselves at our
expense。 It is a bit of German humor。〃
But the cry of 〃Calais in a month！〃 was in the air； and undoubtedly
there had been renewed activity along the German Front near the sea。 The
second question to be answered was dependent on the first。
Had the Germans； as Henri said； merely shifted the water； by some
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clever engineering； to the Belgian trenches； or was there some bigger thing
on hand？ What； for instance； if they were about to attempt to drain the
inundation； smash the Belgi
