CHAPTER SEVEN.
MADALEINE.
"I am glad you are better," said a soft voice in liquid accents, soclose to his ear that he felt the perfumed breath of the speaker waftedacross his face.
Fritz stared with wide-opened eyes. "I'm glad you're better," repeatedthe voice; "you are better, are you not; you feel conscious, don't you,and in your right senses?"
"Where am I?" at last said Fritz faintly.
"Here," answered the girl, "with friends, who are attending to you. Donot fear, you shall be watched over with every care until you are quitewell again."
"Where is `here'?" whispered Fritz feebly again, smiling at his ownquaint question.
The girl laughed gently in response to his smile. "You are at Mezieres,not far from the battlefield where you fell. I discovered you thereearly yesterday morning."
"You?" inquired Fritz, his eyes expressing his astonishment.
"Yes, I," said the girl kindly; "and I was only too happy to be themeans of finding you, and getting you removed to a place of safety; for,I'm afraid that if you had lain there much longer on the damp ground youwould have died."
"Oh!" interrupted Fritz as eagerly as his exhausted condition wouldallow; "I remember all now! I was wounded and lay there close to thebattery; and then I saw the stars come out and thought--"
"Hush!" said the girl, "you must not speak any more now. You are tooweak; I only spoke to you to find out whether you had regainedconsciousness or not."
"But you must let me thank you. If it had not been--"
"No, I won't allow another word," she interposed authoritatively. "Youwill do yourself harm, and then I shall be accused of being a bad nurse!Besides, you haven't got to thank me at all; it was the dog who made mesee you."
"What, Gelert," whispered Fritz again, in spite of heradmonition,--"dear old fellow!"
He had hardly uttered these words, when the faithful dog, who must havebeen close beside the bed, raised himself up, putting a paw on one ofFritz's arms which lay outside the coverings and licking his hand,whining rapturously the while, as if rejoiced to hear the voice of hismaster again.
"`Gelert!'" exclaimed the girl with some surprise. "Why, I know the dogperfectly, and he recognises me quite well; but he is called `Fritz,'not `Gelert,' as you said."
"`Fritz!'" ejaculated he, in his turn. "Why, that is my name!"
"Gracious me," thought the girl to herself, "he is rambling again, andconfusing his own name with that of the dog! I must put a stop to hisspeaking, or else he will get worse. Here, take this," she said aloud,lifting to his lips a wineglass containing a composing draught which thedoctor had left for her patient to take as soon as he showed any signsof recovery from his swoon, and which she really ought to have given himbefore; "it will do you good, and make you stronger."
Fritz swallowed the potion unhesitatingly, immediately sinking back onhis pillow in a quiet sleep; when the girl, sitting down by the side ofthe bed, watched the long-drawn, quivering respirations that came fromthe white, parted lips of the wounded man.
"Poor young fellow!" she said with a sigh; "I fear he will never getover it. I wonder where Armand is now, and how came this stranger tohave possession of his dog! The funniest thing, too, is that `Fritz'seems as much attached to this new master as he was to Armand, althoughhe has not forgotten me. Have you, `Fritz,' my beauty, eh?"
The retriever, in response, gave three impressive thumps with his bushytail on the floor, as he lay at the girl's feet by the side of the bed.He evidently answered to this other familiar appellation quite asreadily as he had done to that of "Gelert," being apparently on perfectterms of friendship, not to say intimacy, with the young lady who hadjust asked him so pertinent a question.
He certainly had not forgotten her. He would not have been a gallantdog if he had; nor would he have displayed that taste and wisediscrimination which one would naturally have expected to find, in awell-bred dog of his particular class, for his interlocutor was aremarkably pretty girl--possessing the most lovely golden-hued hair anda pair of blue eyes that were almost turquoise in tint, albeit with asomewhat wistful, faraway look in them, especially now when she gazeddown into the brown, honest orbs of the retriever, who was watching herevery moment with faithful attention. She had, too, an unmistakeableair of refinement and culture, in spite of her being attired in aplainly made black stuff dress such as a servant might have worn, andhaving a sort of cap like those affected by nuns and sisters of charitydrawn over her dainty little head, partly concealing its wealth of fairsilky hair. No one would have dreamt of taking her to be anything elsebut a lady, no matter what costume she adopted, or how she wasdisguised.
"Who ever thought, dear doggie," she continued, speaking the thoughtsthat surged up in her mind while addressing the dumb animal, who lookedas if he would like to understand her if he only could,--"who ever wouldhave thought that things would turn out as they have when I last pattedyour dear old head at Bingen, `Fair Bingen on the Rhine,' eh?" and shemurmured to herself the refrain of that beautiful ballad.
The retriever gave a long sniff here to express his thorough sympathywith her, and the girl proceeded, musingly, thinking aloud.
"Yes, I mean, doggie, when Armand and I parted for the last time. Poormamma was alive then, and we never dreamt that this terrible war wouldcome to pass, severing us so completely! Poor Armand, he said he wouldbe true and return to me again when he was old enough to be able todecide for himself without the consent of that stern father of his, whothought that the daughter of a poor German pastor was not good enoughmate for his handsome son--although he was only a merchant, while mymother was a French countess in her own right. Still, parents have theright to settle these things, and I quite agreed with dear mamma that Iwould never consent to enter a family against their will, especially,too, when they despised our humble position!"
The girl drew herself up proudly as she said this.
"Never mind," she went on again presently, "it is all over and done for.But, still, I believe Armand loved me. How handsome he looked thatlast time I saw him when he came to our little cottage to say good-bye,before he went to join his regiment in Algeria, where his father had gothim ordered off on purpose to separate us. However, perhaps it was onlya boy and girl affection at the best, and would never have lasted; myheart has not broken, I know, although I thought it would break then;for, alas! I have since seen sorrow enough to crush me down, even muchmore than parting with Armand de la Tour. Fancy, poor darling mammagone to her grave, and I, her cherished child, forced to earn my breadas companion to this haughty old baroness, who thinks me like the dustunder her feet! Ah, it is sad, is it not, doggie?"
The retriever sniffed again, while the blue eyes continued to look downupon him through a haze of tears; and then, the girl was silent for atime.
"Heigho, doggie," she exclaimed, after a short pause of reflection,brushing away the tear drops from her cheeks and shaking her daintylittle head as if she would fain banish all her painful imaginings withthe action, "I must not repine at my lot, for the good Father above hastaken care of me through all my adversity, giving me a comfortable homewhen I, an orphan, had none to look after me. And, the good baroness,too--she may be haughty, but then she is of a very noble family, and hasbeen brought up like most German ladies of rank to look down upon herinferiors in position; besides, she is kind to me in her way. I ampleased that she took it into her head to come off here to seek for herson, and bring him presents from home in person. Nothing else wouldsuit her, if you please, on his birthday, although the young baron, Ithink, was not over-delighted at his mother coming to hunt for him inwar time, as if he were a little boy--he on the staff of the general! Ifancy he got no little chaff from his brother officers in consequence.However, `it is an ill wind that blows nobody good,' for the goodbaroness being here has been seized with a freak for looking after thewounded, because the Princess of Alten-Schlossen goes in for that sortof thing; and thus it is, doggie, that I'm now attending to th
is poorfellow here. Though, how on earth Armand parted with you, and youbecame attached to this new master, whom you seem to love with suchaffection, I'm sure I cannot tell!"
Fritz at this moment turned in the little pallet bed on which he waslying, and in an instant the girl was up from her seat and bending overhim.
"Restless?" she said, smoothing the pillows and laying her cool hand onthe hot brow of her patient, who gave vent to a sigh of satisfaction inhis sleep. "Ah! you'll be better bye-and-bye. Then, you will wake uprefreshed and have some nourishment; and then, too, you'll be able totell me all about yourself and master doggie here, eh?"
But, it was many days before poor Fritz was in a condition to offer anyexplanation about the dog--many days, when the possibility was tremblingin the balance of fate as to whether he would ever speak again, or besilent for aye in this world!
When he woke up, he was delirious; and the doctor, a grave Germansurgeon of middle age, on coming into the room to examine him, whenmaking the rounds of the house--a villa in the suburbs of Mezieres,which had been transformed into a sort of field hospital for the mostdangerous cases in the vicinity--declared Fritz to be in a very criticalstate. His life, he said, was in serious peril, a change having takenplace for the worse.
He had been struck by a chassepot conical rifle bullet in the chest; andthe ball, after breaking two of his ribs and slightly grazing the lungs,had lodged near the spine, where it yet remained, the wounded man beingtoo prostrate for an operation to be performed for its extraction,although all the while it was intensifying the pain and adding to thefeverish symptoms of the patient.
"You've not been allowing him to talk, have you?" asked the surgeon,scanning the girl's face with a stern professional glance.
"No," she replied, blushing slightly under his gaze; "that is, he wantedto, an hour ago, when he became conscious, but I gave him the sleepingdraught you ordered at once."
"Donnerwetter!" exclaimed the other. "The potion then has done him harminstead of good. I thought it would have composed him and made himcomfortable for the operation, as, until that bullet is taken out hecan't possibly get well. However, he must now be kept as quiet aspossible. Put a bandage on his head and make it constantly cool withcold water. I will return bye-and-bye, and then we'll see about cuttingout the ball."
The surgeon then went out softly from the room, leaving the girl toattend to his directions, which she proceeded to do at once; shudderingthe while at what she knew her poor patient would have to undergo, whenthe disciple of Aesculapius came back anon, with his myrmidons and theirmurderous-looking surgical knives and forceps, to hack and hew away atFritz in their search for the bullet buried in his chest--he utterlyoblivious either of his surroundings or what was in store for him,tossing in the bed under her eyes and rambling in his mind. He fanciedhimself still on the battlefield in the thick of the fight:-- "Vorwarts,my children!" he muttered. "One more charge and the battery is won.Pouf! that shell had a narrow squeak of spoiling my new helmet. Thegunner will have to take better aim next time!" Then he would shudderall over, and cry out in piteous tones, "Take it away, take it away--theblood is all over my face; and his body, oh, it is pressing me down intothat yawning open grave! Will no one save me? It is terrible, terribleto be buried alive, and the pale stars twinkling down on my agony!"Presently, however, the cold applications to his head had their effect,and he sank down into a torpid sleep, only to start up again in theravings of delirium a few moments afterwards.
Fritz continued in this state for hours, with intervals of quiet, duringwhich his nurse, by the doctor's orders, administered beef tea and othernourishment which sustained the struggle going on in his sinking frame;until, at last, the ball was extracted, after an operation which was soprolonged that the girl, who felt almost as if she were undergoing itherself, thought it would never end.
Then came the worst stage for the sufferer. Fever supervened; and,although the wound began to heal up, his physical condition grew weakerevery day under the tearing strain his constitution was subjected to.
Even the doctor gave him up; but the girl, who had attended to him withthe most unwearying assiduity had hopes to the last.
Fritz had been unconscious from the time that he first recognised thedog, on the evening after he was wounded and found himself in the villa,until the fever left him, when he was so weak that he was unable to lifta finger and seemed at the very gates of death.
Now, however, his senses returned to him, and a glad look came into hiseyes on seeing, like as he did before and now remembered, the face ofthe beautiful girl bending over him again; but he noticed that she didnot look so bright as when he first beheld her.
"Ah!" he exclaimed feebly, "it was not a dream! How long have I beenill?"
"More than a fortnight," said the girl promptly.
"Oh, my poor mother!" ejaculated Fritz with a sob, "she will havethought me dead, and broken her heart!"
"Don't fear that," said she kindly. "I wrote to her, telling her youwere badly hurt, but that you were in good hands."
"You! Why, how did you know her name, or where she lived?"
"I found the address in your pocket," answered the girl with a laugh."Don't you recollect putting a slip of paper there, telling any one, incase you were wounded or killed, to write and break the news gently toyour mother, `madame Dort, Gulden Strasse, Lubeck'? I never heardbefore of such a thoughtful son!"
"Ah, I remember now," said Fritz; "and you wrote, then, to her?"
"Yes, last week, when we despaired of your recovery; but, I have writtenagain since, telling her that the bullet has been removed from yourwound, and that if you get over the fever you will recover all right."
"Thank you, and thank God!" exclaimed Fritz fervently, and he shut hiseyes and remained quiet for a minute or two, although his lips moved asif in prayer.
"And where is Gelert, my dog?" he asked presently.
"`Fritz,' you mean," said the girl, smiling.
"No, that is my name, the dog's is Gelert."
"That is what I want explained," said the other.
"But, please pardon my rudeness, Fraulein," interrupted Fritz, "may Iask to whom I am indebted for watching over me, and adding to it thethoughtful kindness of relieving my mother's misery?"
"My name is Madaleine Vogelstein," said the girl softly. "Do you likeit?"
"I do; it is a very pretty one," he replied. "The surname is German,but the given name is French--Madaleine? It sounds sweeter than wouldbe thought possible in our guttural Teuton tongue!"
"My mother was a Frenchwoman, and I take the name from her," explainedthe girl. "But now, before I stop you from talking any more, for thegood doctor would blame me much if he came in, you must tell me how youcame to possess that dog; or, rather, why he so faithfully attachedhimself to you, as it was entirely through him that I found you, and gotyou picked up by the ambulance corps and brought here. You must firsttake this soup, however, to strengthen you. It has been kept nice andwarm on that little lamp there, and it will do you good. I won't hear aword more until you have swallowed it!"
"A soldier should always obey the orders of his commanding officer,"said Fritz with a smile, as he slowly gulped down the broth, spoonful byspoonful, as Madaleine placed it in his mouth, for he could not feedhimself.
"That will do," she remarked, when he had taken what she thoughtsufficient. "And now you can tell me about the dog. Here he is," shecontinued, as the retriever came into the room; and, going up to theside of the bed where Fritz was lying, put up his paws on thecounterpane and licked his master's face, in the wildest joy,apparently, at his recovery and notice of him. "He must have heard hisname spoken, as I only just sent him out for a run with one of the men,for all the time you were so ill we could not get him to leave the room.Now, doggie, lie down like a good fellow, and let us hear all aboutyou."
The retriever at once obeyed the girl, stretching himself on the floorat her feet, although close beside his master all the while.
&
nbsp; Fritz then narrated the sad little episode of the battle of Gravelotte,and how he had found the dead body of the French officer with the dogkeeping guard over it.
The girl wept silently as he went on.
"It must have been poor Armand," she said presently through her tears."Did you find nothing about him to tell who he was?"
"There was a little bag I saw round his neck," said Fritz; "I took itoff the poor fellow before we buried him, and suspended it on my ownbreast afterwards for security, thinking that I might restore it someday to his friends, if I ever came across them."
"Ah, that must be the little packet which got driven into your wound,and, stopping the flow of blood, saved your life, the doctor says. Ihave kept it carefully for you, and here it is," cried the girl, hastilyjumping up from her seat and bringing the article in question to Fritz.
"Open it," he said; "I haven't got the strength to do it, you know."
Madaleine unfastened the silken string that confined the mouth of thebag, now stained with Fritz's blood; and then she pulled out the littlesilver ring it contained.
One glance was enough for her.
"Yes," she faltered through her sobs. "It is the ring I gave him; butthat was months before the date engraved upon it, `July 18th, 1870,'which was the day he said he would come back to Bingen, as then he wouldbe of age."
"And he never came, then?" inquired Fritz.
"No, never again," said she mournfully.
"Ah, I would come if I had been in his place," exclaimed Fritz eagerly,with a flashing eye. "I never fail in an appointment I promise to keep;and to fail to meet a betrothed--why it is unpardonable!"
He had raised his voice from the whisper in which he had previouslyspoken, and its indignant tone seemed quite loud.
"Perhaps he couldn't come," said Madaleine more composedly. "Besides,we were not engaged; all was over between us."
"I'm very glad to hear that," replied Fritz. "It would have beendastardly on his part otherwise! But, would you like to keep the dogfor his sake, Fraulein Vogelstein? I have got no claim to him, youknow."
"Oh dear no, I would not like to deprive you of him for the world, muchas I love the poor faithful fellow. Why, he would think nobody was hisproper master if he were constantly changing hands like this!"
"Poor old Gelert!" said Fritz; and the dog, hearing himself talkedabout, here raised himself up again from his recumbent attitude by theside of the bed and thrust his black nose into the hand of his master,who tried feebly to caress him.
"`Fritz,' you mean," corrected Miss Madaleine, determined to have herpoint about his right name.
"Well, if you call him so, I shall think you mean me," said Fritzjokingly, as well as his feeble utterance would permit his voice to beexpressive. He wanted, however, to imply much more than the mere words.
"That would not be any great harm, would it?" she replied with a littlesmile, her tears of sorrow at Armand de la Tour's untimely fate havingdried up as quickly as raindrops disappear after a shower as soon as thesun shines out again; however, she apparently now thought theconversation was becoming a little too personal, for she proceeded toply the invalid with more soup in order to stop his mouth and preventhim from replying to this last speech of hers!
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