The Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER II The Chateau Yvonne

  It was night in the Chateau Yvonne.

  The old house was unlighted and extraordinarily still. Now and then fromthe recesses of a vine-covered wall, a screech owl sounded his lament,while from the banks of a small lake nearby a company of frogs croakedtheir approval.

  Otherwise the chateau appeared deserted, and in the moonlight one couldsee that portions of it were in ruins and that only the oldest part,which originally had been built of stone, remained intact.

  Nevertheless, at present the old chateau was not uninhabited. It was nowafter midnight and a figure, carrying a candle, moved through the widehall of the second floor. So silently the figure moved that unless onewere listening intently, one would have heard no footfall.

  The apparition was a woman, with her hair bound in two long braids, herfigure slender and agile as a girl's. Yet she had a look of courage, ofhardly fought anxiety, which, together with her delicacy, held nosuggestion of youth.

  As she entered one of the bedrooms, one saw that she was not alone in theold house, two girls lay asleep in a large, old-fashioned Frenchbedstead, a third girl in a cot nearby.

  Their sleep must have been partly due to exhaustion, because as the lightof the candle flickered across their faces, no one of them spoke orstirred.

  A moment later, slipping as noiselessly into a second room, there was afaint movement from one of a pair of sleepers. A girl's lips framed aquestion, but before the words were spoken the intruder had moved away.

  Now she walked to the front of the house and stood before a tall Frenchwindow whose shutters were tightly closed; through the slats came faintstreaks of light.

  She seemed to be hesitating. Then blowing out her candle and withdifficulty opening one of the heavy shutters, she climbed out upon asmall balcony. The balcony, which was only a few feet in width, commandedan unusual view of the surrounding country.

  As there were no large objects to obstruct the vision, one could see anextraordinary distance in the clear and brilliant moonlight. Not a singletree of any size guarded the old French chateau, although one mightreasonably have expected to find it surrounded by a forest of a century'sgrowth.

  Only a few years before, the trees on this French estate had been famousthroughout the countryside. An avenue of oaks bordering either side theroad to the house had been half a mile in length and of great age andbeauty. Strangers in the neighborhood were driven through the grounds ofthe chateau, chiefly that they might admire its extraordinary old trees.

  Tonight, looking out from the little balcony down this selfsame avenue,one could see only a few gnarled trunks of the once famous trees, stillstanding like sentinels faithful at their posts till death.

  When, soon after the outbreak of the European war the Germans sweptacross the Marne, the Chateau Yvonne and its grounds had been made anobject of their special mania for destruction. Such trees as had not beendestroyed by bursting shells and poisonous gases they had deliberatelyset afire.

  Yet at present, Mrs. Burton, as she stood on the little balcony andlooked out over the country, was grateful for their loss. She was thusable to observe so much more of the surrounding landscape. There was nohuman being in sight.

  For the past four days she and five of the Camp Fire girls had been inhiding in the Chateau Yvonne, and within these four days the face of theworld seemed to have changed.

  Already it has grown difficult for some of us to recall the last week inMarch in the year 1918, when the Germans again appeared to have a chanceof victory and the Allied lines were seen to waver and then recede fromnorthern to southern France.

  It was within this fateful week, with the channel ports and Paris againthreatened, that the Camp Fire guardian and her group of American girls,had been vainly awaiting at the Chateau Yvonne the arrival of MissPatricia Lord, Vera Lagerloff and Sally Ashton, in order that they mightcontinue their retreat to Paris.

  As Mrs. Burton now gazed out over the landscape, shining serenely in theclear beauty of the moonlight, she was interested in only two problems.What had become of Miss Patricia and her companions and how far away fromthe Chateau Yvonne at this hour was the German army?

  In leaving the farmhouse on the Aisne and journeying to the chateau,instead of withdrawing from danger, they seemed to have approached nearerit. Yet no one possessed exact information concerning the results of thelast few days of the great struggles. The persons admitted within thechateau had brought with them conflicting stories. One of them reportedthat the enemy was nearing Soissons, another that the French and Americantroops were holding the Germans at Chateau-Thierry. It was impossible toreach a definite decision. Yet always there was this conclusion. TheFrench refugees were all hurrying on toward Paris; Mrs. Burton and hercompanions should join them at once.

  Now as Mrs. Burton considered the situation for the hundredth time withinthe past twenty-four hours, she was as far from a conclusion as ever.

  Against her will, but agreeing with Miss Patricia's wish, she had gone onahead, Miss Patricia firmly declining to leave the farmhouse until herlivestock and farming implements, acquired with such difficulty and of sogreat use to the French peasants, could be safely hidden from theapproaching enemy.

  At the time there had seemed no immediate danger to be feared. In proofof this Vera Lagerloff had not only remained behind, but by her ownrequest, Sally Ashton, and Sally had always insisted that she was theleast courageous of her group of Camp Fire girls.

  Expecting to make the same journey later, now four days had passedwithout word of any kind from them.

  There was the possibility that, upon learning there might be greaterdanger along the route which Mrs. Burton had traveled, Miss Patricia haddecided to take some other road.

  Yet considering this suggestion, again Mrs. Burton remained unconvinced.Miss Patricia Lord was a woman of her word; having told her to await hercoming at the Chateau Yvonne, she would reach there finally if it werehumanly possible. Otherwise Miss Patricia would fear that they might stayat the chateau indefinitely and so become involved in another tragedy ofthe Marne.

  Finally, however, Mrs. Burton crouched down in the ledge of the windowjutting out into the balcony. Having reached a halfway decision she atlast could admit to herself her own fatigue.

  In the morning the Camp Fire girls, who were her present companions, muststart off alone toward Paris, leaving her at the chateau.

  She could plead the excuse that she had become too exhausted to travelfurther until she had an opportunity to rest.

  In the midst of her reflections, Mrs. Burton was even able to smile alittle whimsically. Since the hour when Jean had brought the news ofdanger to the quiet farmhouse on the Aisne how completely she seemed tohave ignored, if not to have forgotten, her own invalidism. And yet untilthat hour no one of her household had believed her equal to the leastexertion!

  Only a short time before, her husband, Captain Burton, had at lastconsidered her to have grown sufficiently strong for him to leave, inorder that he might continue his Red Cross work in France. And afterwardshow strictly she had been guarded by Miss Patricia and the Camp Firegirls!

  There is a familiar axiom that necessity knows no law. At present Mrs.Burton did not believe that she felt any the worse from her recentexperiences save an increasing weariness.

  The Camp Fire girls would undoubtedly oppose her wish to wait for MissPatricia alone, she must therefore summon the strength to enforce herwill.

  The March winds were growing colder. At this moment, although wrapped ina heavy coat, Mrs. Burton shivered, partly with apprehension and partlyfrom cold.

  She knew that the five girls were not far off and yet, in the silence andloneliness of the night, with no human being in sight, she suddenly feltdesperately solitary.

  She was frightened. Notwithstanding her fear was not so much for herself,though she dreaded being left perhaps to face an oncoming German horde,her greater fear was that the Camp Fire girls mig
ht meet with disaster,traveling without their guardian and with a horde of French refugees,toward greater security in Paris.

  How greatly she longed at this moment for a sight of Miss Patricia Lord'sgaunt and homely figure, always a tower of strength in adversity.

  Yet not only was there no sign of her approach, there was an ominousquiet over the entire countryside.

  "Mrs. Burton!"

  The older woman started, a cold hand had touched her own and a girl,climbing through the window, sat beside her.

  "Yvonne!"

  Mrs. Burton's hand closed round Yvonne Fleury's.

  Nearly four years before the young French girl, who was now a member ofMrs. Burton's Camp Fire, had been forced to escape from her home duringthe first victory of the Germans along the Marne. In the flight heryounger brother had been killed and her mother had afterwards died. Herolder brother, Lieutenant Fleury, whom she afterwards believed to havebeen killed at the front, was at that time fighting with the French army.

  Small wonder that tonight, Yvonne, perhaps facing another flight from herhome, was unable to sleep.

  "I must talk, Mrs. Burton, if you don't mind," she whispered. "I willdisturb no one. Tell me you do not believe the Germans will cross theMarne a second time. If they do, nevertheless, I mean to stay on here atmy home. I have just concluded to beg you and the Camp Fire girls toleave the chateau in the morning and go on with your journey to Paris. Iwill be here when Miss Patricia arrives to explain and later she canfollow the route you will take. If my home is to be destroyed a secondtime I shall be here when the destruction takes place."

  Understanding the young French girl's mood too well to argue with her atthis moment, Mrs. Burton answered:

  "Perhaps the situation is not so tragic as we fear, Yvonne. But in anycase you must remember that your brother, Lieutenant Fleury, is again atthe front fighting for the honor and glory of France. You cannot of yourown choice add to his sorrows. Besides, you and I never doubt for asingle moment that the Allies will ultimately win. Then you will haveyour home and your brother restored to you again!"

  At present Mrs. Burton was able to say no more. At this moment toward thesoutheastern line of the horizon, suddenly the sky had become a flaringcrimson. The next instant there followed the noise of an explosion and asound of distant firing.