The Red Signal (Grace Livingston Hill Book) (19 page)

She turned to him with surprise and joy in her face, and her voice almost trembled as she spoke:

“I write to you?” Then the sunny light slowly faded out of her eyes and renunciation began to settle down about her firm little mouth. “I should love to,” she said wistfully. “But I guess that wouldn't be right.”

“Why not?” he demanded. “Is there someone else?”

“Oh, no!” she opened her eyes wide in amusement and her laugh rippled out. Then sobering: “No, but you surely know there is a great difference between us. You belong to the rich and great; to the people who know things and do things and—are things! But I am just a little school girl who has got to earn her living. We are very, very poor since my father died! You and your mother have been very kind to me, but I'm quite sure she wouldn't want you writing to a girl like me.”

“I'm quite sure she would!” he burst forth eagerly. “She thinks you are a girl among a thousand. She told me so herself! And what is money! I've got plenty of money, but I would rather throw it all away than let it separate me from congenial friends. Come now, you'll have to give me a better reason than that if you want to cut me out of your circle of friendship.”

“Oh, I don't want to do that at!” she cried in distress. “But—why—don't you realize that I've been a hired girl on a truck farm! And you are an officer in the United States Army; and the son of the president of a great railroad; and the friend of the President of the United States, and a whole lot of other great friends. You've been through college, and are going to be a great man. I’m only an ignorant little school girl who will never have much of a chance to learn to be anything.”

“Nonsense!” cried the young soldier proudly. “You've been a loyal American citizen! What does it matter what else you've been? Isn't this a democracy? Don't we believe in real things? What difference how you have served so long as you've had the fineness and the heart to serve? And as for being and doing anything! Hilda, do you know that there is a cordon of Secret Servicemen stretched all around that truck farm to-day just on account of you? Do you know that Schwarz and his men can't stir without the United States Government knowing exactly what each is doing? Don't you know that the officer who comes in an aeroplane will be watched for and tracked next week, if he tries to come again, and it will likely be discovered just where else he goes and who he is, and who he is working for, and whether there are other truck farms that he visits. And it is all through your quick, brave action that this is possible. By the way, I didn't tell you that down under the iron lid below your cabbages I saw hundreds of guns stored and ready for quick handing out. And do you know that very likely before many days the Government will know just where other stores are kept, the powder and the dynamite you heard them talk about, and who are the ones employed to blow up munition plants and shipyards, and place bombs under bridges and in the holds of loaded ships? As soon as they have them just where they want them and find out everybody that is in the frame-up they will all be in jail, Schwarz and all his gang, too. This information has come through you, and yet, in spite of all the honor that has been put upon you, and is going to be done you, you are not the least bit conceited. You are making yourself as small and humble as can be. Don't you think I know fineness when I see it? You may have worked in a kitchen, but you have the soul of a queen, and—of a soldier! Yes, you have! No man could have done a finer, braver thing than you have done! I mean it! And I want you for my friend. Come, will you write to me? Unless, perhaps you think that I'm the one that's unworthy? Is that it?”

“Oh, no!” she put out her hand with a quick little protest. “Oh, no!”

He took her hand gravely, gently, in his own, looking down and marveling at its shapeliness and supple strength.

“Well, then, will you write to me and try me out for a friend?”

Hilda's eyes answered for her before her lips could frame the words, and a sweet look of joy, like one who had received a high calling, shone in her face. They had entirely forgotten that they were sitting with clasped hands, until Karl's voice pierced through the shrubbery, sweetly imperious, like one who was being hindered on the greatest occasion of his life:

“Hilda! Hilda! Where are you? Hurry up, you two! We're going back to the hotel and we're going to have ice-cream again for dinner! And then we're going to a movie!”

THROUGH the next few days Hilda moved like one in a beautiful dream, from which she expected soon to wake into the regular drab-colored world where she belonged. But she dreamed with a smile on her lips and joy in her eyes. She was as lovely and unconscious of self as a girl could be, and more and more young Daniel Stevens's mother was drawn to her.

The young man had gone to his camp, and Hilda's mother had received a summons to come to Philadelphia to try out for the position which Mr. Stevens senior had recommended her for, and had taken Karl with her, wishing to arrange for his school in case she was accepted.

Hilda was detained by the Secret Service for a few days until a further investigation could be made. The officer of the aeroplane could not be located as yet, and a great deal depended upon his identification. It was decided that she should stay with Mrs. Stevens a little longer.

So the dream wandered on for more beautiful days, filled with rides and walks and sight-seeing, glimpses into lovely homes and churches, meetings with delightful people; a week-end with the young soldier up again from camp, and the delightful senior Stevens down from Philadelphia.

The two young people, set free for the time being from all thought of difference or class distinction, conscious of the approval of their elders, grew whole months in the matter of friendship as they strolled about Washington. They wandered into many of the historic and beautiful spots where a visitor may go. Yet afterwards perhaps their strongest impression was rather of words and glances than of stately halls or paintings of historic value.

Hilda was summoned one morning to look at some photographs. Did they resemble the man who came in an aeroplane, she was asked? She was quite sure they did. She studied each of them carefully. They were small snapshots, two or them taken in a crowd, one on the deck of a departing steamship. One without his hateful moustache: Always to look at them gave her that chill that she had felt when that stranger had told Mrs. Schwarz to make it known that she was his property, “She belongs to me! Understand?” How those words rang in her ears! The night after she had looked at the pictures she lay awake and thought it all over. Were those really pictures of the man, or did she only imagine it because she was all wrought up over what she had gone through? How much responsibility was upon her!

It seemed that the man whose picture she had been shown was a noted German who had been close to diplomatic circles, and had moved unsuspected for years among the most loyal of Americans. Of late there had been whispers about him, vague and indefinite. He had been reported as having gone back to Germany at the time when Von Bernstorff was recalled. Rumor also had reported him in Mexico. There were no proofs, but many indications that he was the moving spirit in German intrigue and propaganda, and yet he was like the proverbial flea, no one could put a finger on him. If he could be found and his identity proved with that of the airman of the truck farm it meant much in the affairs of the nation and the world. To think that she, insignificant as she was, should all unwittingly have come to be mixed up in such great things! It frightened her when she took time in the watches of the night to think about it.

There was another thing that was troublous think about, and that was the fact that in spite of the careful watch set about the truck farm, Schwarz and his wife had disappeared; dropped out of existence as it were in the night! Of course, there had been time for them to leave before Hilda reached Washington with her report and set the machinery of the Government in action; and then, too, the nature of the espionage kept about the place was necessarily at a distance until such time as they should be ready to round up the whole gang. But it was annoying to feel that the chief actors in the scene had disappeared so unaccountably. Hilda spent hours thinking about it whenever she was left to herself. Had there been an underground tunnel through which the two had departed in disguise? Had they opened her suitcase after she left and discovered that she had taken the other one with her? Would they perhaps lie in wait for her some day if she chanced to come in their way, and get their revenge? She shuddered and turned away from the thought as quite impossible in a plain, common-sense world, with sunshine and beautiful things all about; and yet it left a shadow in her heart that sometimes gave her an unpleasant sensation. She wished the Schwarzes were safely interned or imprisoned somewhere. In the days that followed, however, she had no room for gloom. Daniel Stevens came often to Washington for a. few hours to be with them, and occasionally she and his mother motored to the camp and spent a pleasant half day going about with him. And then, just the very day that the Secret Service people had told her that she might go to Philadelphia now if she chose, as they would not need her further until they had some track of either the Schwarzes or the airman, word came from the young soldier that he was to leave for France in a few hours.

Somehow Hilda had not realized until that afternoon of farewell what a terrible thing war was. It had not come to her until then that this young man who was becoming so much to her was going out to face death perhaps, just as all those others had gone. He was to be in the forefront of things, helping to reconstruct railroads, and run the first trains over ground that was but just recovered from the enemy. He would be subject to work under fire. There would be terrible danger everywhere, and the enemy would be—millions of Schwarzes! led by men like the airman! Cruel, selfish, beastly, fiendish! Her first thoughts at Platt's Crossing about the American boys marching out to meet long lines of Germans returned to her with vivid horror, for now it was her true friend, Daniel Stevens, with his fine bearing, his merry brown eyes, and his firm strong chin that looked as though it would never give up, who was going out to the struggle. Her heart quailed and her lips faltered as she gave her hand for farewell. Her face was white with the pain of it, and the possibilities that had flashed before her mind in that second.

“There's one thing I want you to promise me, Hilda Lessing,” he said, looking earnestly into her eyes. “I don't like the thought that those Schwarzes and that captain are floating around loose, and knowing that you have been on their track. They are liable to turn up somewhere and get it back on you! I want you to promise me that you will never get into any cab or automobile that anybody sends after you unless you know the driver and are perfectly sure of him! I want you to promise you won't go out alone at night, nor answer any strange letters or appeals or anything that might lure you into their power! Remember, they have your suitcase and by this time in all probability they know that you were the one that put the Government wise to them. The fact that all three have apparently dropped out of existence leaving no tracks behind, shows that they know we are onto them. Now, will you promise? I shan't feel safe about you one minute unless you do.”

“Of course,” said Hilda, a flood of emotion choking her voice. To think that he should care! That he should be so thoughtful of her!

“You'll keep pretty close to your mother—or mine, won't you?”

“Oh, yes!” said Hilda, the pretty color coming and going in her round cheeks. “As close as I can and attend to my work.”

“You won't take any risks, will you? Because —well— because—” 

He was looking at her with such a world of meaning in his eyes that her own drooped before his gaze and her heart leaped with joy that he should care so much about her. The Schwarzes at that moment seemed a thing far away and not at all to be feared, since he cared so much. His caring shut her away from all fear like a beautiful robe of protection.

There was so much joy, after all, mingled with the pain of the parting that on the way to Philadelphia. Mrs. Stevens studied the girl's face in some doubt. Did she care after all for the boy who had gone away to the war? She knew the look on her boy's face and she knew he was deeply interested in this girl. Was the girl as much interested, or was she just a good friend who had not yet awakened to the great things of life? Well, it was just as well, for the child would not have to suffer so much. Yet as she studied the sweet face with the dreamy eyes that looked without seeing the flying landscape the mother wondered after all if there were not something deeper behind that sweet smile than just a passing happiness for the pleasant times that were suddenly surrounding her after the hard summer. She wondered if Hilda were not even then remembering the look in the soldier's eyes as he said goodby. The future would have to tell! She was very well satisfied to have her boy interested in a girl like this. Sweet and strong and unselfish, with fine ambitions, and a will to accomplish them. She was going to have a good deal of pleasure herself with the girl and her mother. She had always wanted a daughter, and this girl was charming. How she would like to do beautiful things for her! Yet she knew in her heart that both mother and girl were too self-respecting to allow much to be done for them. It would just have to be a case of being a dear friend and slipping in help where it would seem perfectly natural; and she had to confess, too, that she liked them all the better for that.

Thus Hilda, with pleasant thoughts, and much wonder in her heart over the way things were turning out, went on her way back to Philadelphia, She could not help contrasting herself with the little girl in the brown denim cap who travelled that way alone so short a time before, when she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror of the parlor car. The slim elegant little figure that sat back luxuriously in the big chair, perfect in every dainty appointment of her toilet and her travelling accessories, seemed such a contrast to the Schwarzes' hired girl running away to tell the President, that she laughed aloud.