The Flying Cavalier

by Gilbert, Morris

  “My wife has good taste,” Pierre said, noting Winslow’s study of the room. “She keeps buying furniture, but I tell her one day we won’t need anything this fancy. After we leave Paris we’ll have to sell much of it.”

  “You’re leaving Paris?”

  “Someday when I retire from my practice. Both Katherine and I come from small villages. We’d like to move away from the hustle and bustle of the city life.”

  Marie cleared her throat, and hearing the sound, Pierre Laurent laughed quietly. “That’s a signal from Marie to ask the blessing and get on with the meal—so we will do so.” Bowing his head, Laurent uttered a quick prayer, and then as soon as the amen was said, he picked up the carving knife and fork, and said, “Now, since I am the surgeon I will carve the goose.”

  It was a lovely Christmas dinner indeed! The meal consisted of roast goose, rich chestnut stuffing made with lots of butter, potatoes with gravy, peas and pearl onions in a butter cream sauce, fresh loaves of bread lathered thoroughly with rich butter, preserves, cakes with rich rum sauce topped with raisins and currants, and hot black coffee.

  As the meal progressed, Winslow inquired more into the Laurents’ possible move to the country. He turned to Noelle and Danielle, commenting, “I don’t suppose that will please either of you. There won’t be much of a social life.”

  “That’s what I keep telling Father,” Danielle spoke up at once. “I’d hate to be stuck in a little town with nothing to do.”

  On the other hand, Noelle nodded, saying quietly, “I would like it very much. I like the quiet atmosphere of a small town much better.”

  “I’m from a small town myself. Everyone knew everyone. Big cities like London and Paris confuse me.”

  The talk went around the table, and finally Doctor Laurent, who had finished his meal, signaled Marie for another cup of coffee. “What is your thinking on the current political scene, Lieutenant Winslow? Being in the military, you must be very apprehensive about what is happening in Europe.”

  Winslow instantly grew serious. He nodded, saying, “It’s not just the military that should be concerned. It’s all of us, Doctor Laurent. I’m afraid these are troubling times.”

  “Indeed they are, and due to get worse, I think. Your entire mission here, as I understand it, is to find ways to use the airplane as a military weapon?”

  “Yes, sir. Basically that’s it.”

  “Are your countrymen so certain there will be a war?”

  “They don’t always say so publicly, but privately there is great concern. I’m sure you are aware of the two armed camps that are dividing Europe.”

  “Yes. It started back when I was a younger man with the alliance between Germany and Austria-Hungary.”

  “That is true, sir, and it is getting worse. Bismarck was satisfied with Germany’s boundaries, but the kaiser is not. He wants a war, and when a leader such as he wants a war badly enough, he will find a way to get it.”

  “When Wilhelm the First died, a friend of mine wrote, ‘Lord abide with us, for the evening draws nigh.’ ”

  “Yes. Wilhelm the Second brought his own troubles.”

  “I don’t understand all this,” Katherine said, shaking her head. “It’s so confusing.”

  “It is very confusing, Madame Laurent,” Winslow said. He was silent for a moment, and all of the Laurents studied the chiseled face of the Englishman. He appeared meditative and there was grave thoughtfulness in his light blue eyes as he seemed to be having troublesome thoughts. “I don’t know if you’re aware of it, but Russia and France have agreed to unite if either is ever threatened by aggression.”

  “That is so,” Doctor Laurent said quickly. “And sooner or later Germany will have trouble with Russia.”

  “Yes. And then France will be drawn in.”

  “That will be a sad day for our country.”

  “And for England, for she will be drawn into it, too. As a matter of fact, the United Kingdom became attached to the Franco-Russian combine in 1904. So . . .” he said, and then he managed a smile that made him look younger, “your country and mine are tied together.”

  As all this talk about politics went on, Danielle fidgeted impatiently. Finally she said, “Come. It’s time to open the presents.”

  “What makes you think you have a present?” Doctor Laurent said, his eyes twinkling. “You’ve been a naughty girl.”

  “I have not! I’ve been good!”

  “Well, I suppose you have. Once again, Lieutenant, may I trouble you to help Noelle to the large parlor?”

  As Lance carried Noelle to the larger of the two parlors, he was acutely aware of her youthful beauty and of the fragrance of her lilac perfume. She turned once suddenly to face him and their eyes met.

  She smiled then, saying quietly, “I’m sorry to be such a burden.”

  “I assure you, Miss Noelle, you are no burden at all.” He entered the larger parlor decorated with dark, rich colors. The walls were papered in a dark red-and-gold flecked paper, the ceiling was painted white and very high, and the floors were covered with wall-to-wall carpet in dark reds, greens, and black. The windows were covered with dark burgundy velvet coverings, and the overstuffed furniture was done in golds, greens, blues, and reds, all soft hues to the eye and to the touch. He ensconced his burden into an overstuffed chair, then took a seat beside her.

  The giving of gifts and the squeals of delight from Danielle made Lance Winslow smile with pleasure. He had not celebrated a Christmas like this in years, not since he had been a very young man. As he observed the love and playful bantering of the Laurent family, the thought came to his mind, I hope someday I can have a home just like this. How they care for one another. He was surprised when Danielle came over with a gaily wrapped package.

  “This is for you, Lieutenant.”

  “Why, I certainly wasn’t expecting a present, and I didn’t bring any for you.”

  “Open it,” Danielle urged. Her eyes were bright, and she looked very pretty. In fact, she had been the instigator of rounding up a present for their guest. She had pestered her father until he had managed to come up with a solution. Several years ago he had been given a beautifully designed razor with mother-of-pearl and set with a gold crest. Pierre Laurent had used the same razor for over twenty years and was reluctant to give it up, beautiful though the new one might be, so he had finally consented to Dani’s persistent persuasions.

  As Lance opened the box and picked up the razor, his throat suddenly became thick with emotion. “It’s a beautiful gift, and I will use it as long as I grow whiskers.” He opened it and admired the gleaming steel.

  “It’s as good as the scalpels that I use. It’s made from the finest Swedish steel,” Doctor Laurent said. “I hope you’ll enjoy it, Lieutenant.”

  “I certainly will, and I’ll treasure it always.” He looked up at each of them and said, “Your gracious invitation and this gift are very special to me. Enjoying the day with all of you sure beats being at a hotel by myself. I thank you all.”

  Noelle was touched by the loneliness of Lance Winslow. “You must come often and visit our home while you are in France.”

  “With your parents’ permission, of course, I will,” he said, nodding toward her father.

  “Certainly,” Doctor Laurent said. “It will be our honor.”

  The day went more pleasantly for Lance Winslow than any he could remember. He spent a great deal of the time playing games with the family, and Danielle’s squeals of delight as she beat him at draughts were amusing. He took a liking to the young girl immediately and once said quietly to Noelle, “I wish I had a younger sister such as yours. She seems so . . . so . . .”

  “Excitable, impressionable, and totally unable to contain her feelings,” Noelle finished for him. “Dani is a dear girl, indeed. We all love her very much.”

  “She’s very pretty.”

  “Oh yes. She’ll be a beautiful woman.”

  “It runs in the family,” Lance said. Then as her eyes
opened with surprise, he added, “Your mother is a lovely woman.” Then he grinned, saying, “And you are, too, Miss Noelle. Pardon my impertinence, but I think I’m a little bit intoxicated.”

  “But you haven’t had any alcohol.”

  “No, but just being in a home like this is intoxicating for an old soldier like me.”

  “Old soldier, indeed! How old are you, Lieutenant?”

  “Well, I’m twenty-one.” He blushed as her merry laugh rang through the room and then shrugged his trim shoulders. “I make myself sound like Methuselah, don’t I? And how old are you, if I may ask?”

  “I’m twenty and Danielle is fourteen.”

  “Going on fifteen,” Lance smiled. “She’s already informed me of that. She’s a very precocious young woman.” He leaned forward and studied her face. “You have a very marvelous family. I hate to say it, but I’m almost glad you twisted your ankle. Otherwise I would be sitting in an empty café somewhere eating a bowl of soup.”

  The two sat there talking for a while, then he finally rose to leave. “Were you serious about my coming back?”

  “Why, of course!”

  “Then you may see more of me than you think. I’ll call tomorrow to see how your injury is.” He reached out, took her hand, and squeezed it. “And after your ankle is well, I hope that we might go out some evening. Perhaps you can show me the sights of Paris.”

  “That would be delightful, Lieutenant Winslow. Good night.”

  After the lieutenant had gone, Noelle sat with her foot propped up. It was throbbing, for she had put more weight on it that day than was proper, but her thoughts were not on her ankle, but the pleasant day she had enjoyed with a very handsome officer. When her father came in later, she said, “He’s very nice, isn’t he?”

  “Very nice, indeed.” He sat down beside her and asked, “How’s the ankle?”

  “A little pain but not bad.”

  “You’ll have to stay off of it.”

  “Lieutenant Winslow asked if I could go out and show him a little of Paris as soon as my ankle is better.”

  “And you would like to do that?” her father asked, a twinkle in his eye.

  Noelle smiled, saying slowly, “Yes. I would like to very much, Papa.”

  ****

  “Are you certain you’re able to be on your feet?” Katherine Laurent had come to stand behind Noelle, who was putting the final touches on her hair.

  Noelle put the brush down and turned to smile. “Why, of course I am, Mother. It’s perfectly well now.” This was not exactly true, but the ankle was much better. She had improved rapidly, and now, at the later part of January, she had only a slight twinge to remind her of the bad sprain. She got to her feet and said, “Lance wants to take me to see something. He won’t tell me what it is.”

  “You two have seen quite a bit of the city,” Katherine said. “What is it this time?”

  “He won’t tell me. He just said it was something very special.”

  Thirty minutes later Lance arrived. The weather had modified, so he was not wearing an overcoat. He looked very dashing in his olive uniform, and when Noelle came to greet him, he grinned. “Ready for the big surprise?”

  “I can’t imagine what it is. We’re not going to the zoo, are we? Not in January.”

  “Something better than that.” Lance turned to Katherine, saying, “I will have her home early, madame.”

  “You two have a good time.”

  When they were outside, the cold bit at Noelle’s cheeks. She was wearing a long, double-breasted overcoat fastened with large buttons and a flat hat with a small crown. Lance helped her into the cab that was waiting and then leaned forward and whispered the directions to the cabbie, who spoke some English.

  “You’re certainly making a mystery of this,” Noelle said, smiling.

  “A woman likes a man of mystery.”

  “Who told you that? You haven’t been reading those awful romance novels, have you?”

  “They’re not awful at all. I’m a very romantic fellow.”

  “Are you, now?” Noelle giggled suddenly. “I don’t think men who are romantic have to announce it.”

  “Well, actually I feel like putting a sign around my neck that reads, ‘I’m a very romantic fellow.’ ”

  Noelle leaned back in the cab, enjoying the conversation. He was very amusing, this Lance Winslow, and she knew he was becoming very fond of her. He had not tried to kiss her, but somehow her intuition told her that it would come soon. He would not tell her anything about the destination as he teased her, threatening to blindfold her at one point.

  Finally the cab pulled up, and Lance got out and then helped Noelle. He paid the cabdriver, then turned and said, “Well, here we are.”

  “But—what is it, Lance?”

  They were standing beside a large field that was thickly strewn with airplanes of all sorts. A large crowd had gathered, and most of them were bundled up to the ears against the cold weather. The air was filled with the sound of engines buzzing and roaring. Lance took her arm and said, “It’s the International Paris Air Show—the first one ever. There are pilots and planes here from all over the world. It’s really one of the reasons I came here. I was talking with the pilots all day yesterday. Come along. I’ll give you a tour.”

  For the next two hours Noelle was treated to the sights of airplanes such as she had never dreamed. Most of them looked like flimsy kites to her with their canvas or silk-covered wings, with the pilot sitting in the middle exposed to the air.

  “They look so . . . so flimsy. They’re very dangerous, aren’t they?”

  “One pilot I met here named René Thomas has had twenty-seven crashes.”

  “Mercy! How is he still alive?”

  “Well, I think he’s broken most of his bones, but he loves the adventure of it. Look at this plane here. Now, that is an airplane for you.”

  “What kind is it?” Noelle asked.

  “That’s a Farman Pusher biplane. Look at those ailerons!”

  Lance explained what an aileron was and pointed out the fine points of the craft, which had a four-wheeled undercarriage made of lightweight wood.

  Lance enjoyed her company as they toured the rest of the airplanes, and the afternoon went pleasantly enough. Finally he said, “I have a surprise for you, as I told you.”

  “Isn’t this it, coming to the air show?”

  “Not all of it. Come along.” He led her through the maze of planes and said as he went, “I know your ankle must be aching, but you won’t have to stand on it much longer.” The two arrived in front of one of the planes that looked no more sturdy than the others. A medium-sized man with a dark, olive complexion and a droopy mustache straightened up and smiled as the two approached.

  “Ah, my English friend.”

  “Monsieur Blériot, may I present Mademoiselle Noelle Laurent. Miss Laurent, Louis Blériot, the finest pilot alive.”

  Blériot was a rather solemn-looking man, but a glint of humor danced in his eyes. “I bet you say that to all the pilots.”

  “Not at all, monsieur. I would not mislead mademoiselle, and I am sure you will be the first to cross the Channel.”

  “You mean fly across the English Channel?” Noelle exclaimed. “In this?”

  “Ah, you do not understand, mademoiselle.” Blériot spoke in French, and Lance caught little of it, but he tried to follow along as the French pilot explained the virtues of the two-seated craft.

  Finally Blériot winked at Lance. “Is the young lady ready for her first flight?”

  “What!” Noelle gasped, staring up at Lance.

  Louis Blériot laughed. “You have not told her, then?”

  “No, I haven’t,” Lance said. “Monsieur Blériot has kindly consented to let me take his plane up. You will be my passenger.”

  Staring at the flimsy airplane, Noelle had an impulse to laugh and refuse, but she had an adventurous spirit and a streak of daring in her. She smiled and said, “Monsieur Blériot, you are
too kind.”

  Quickly the two men worked on the plane, and a short while later, Noelle found herself seated in the wicker seat just to Lance’s left. The engine ran roughly and then leveled off. Waving toward Blériot, Lance moved the controls, and the airplane taxied out. Noelle held on tightly to the arms of her seat, and as the plane picked up speed, she wondered, What in the world am I doing here? Father would have a fit!

  And then the ground seemed to drop away, and Noelle caught her breath. She could hear little but the snarling roar of the engine, and the cold wind bit at her face, making it numb.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Noelle turned to face Lance, who was leaning over and had shouted into her ear. “Not as long as you’re here,” she shouted back.

  And then the plane rose. After the initial shock of being off the ground, Noelle took delight in the ride. It was something she had never dreamed of. She looked over and saw the Eiffel Tower rising clearly out of the city. “Look. There’s the street where you live—and there’s your house!” Lance shouted.

  “Oh, it is! It is! Wait until I tell Father!”

  Finally, in a great sweeping curve, Lance brought the plane back high over the field. Down below, the planes with their bright covered fabrics broke the solemn earth colors of winter. Lance suddenly leaned over, and removing his left hand and putting it behind the seat, he placed it on her left shoulder. His touch surprised Noelle, and she turned to him. His face was only inches away as he pulled her closer and put his lips almost against her ear. “I planned all this just for one reason.”

  “Planned what, Lance?”

  “Getting you up here all alone.”

  And then Noelle’s heart beat faster. His arm tightened around her, and she saw that he intended to kiss her.