Part one of Somewhere in France. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox
recordings are in the public domain. For more information or volunteer, please visit
LibriVox dot org. Recording by Caroline Somewhere in France by Richard Harding Davis,
Part one. Marie Guessla, known as Marichio Montel Jeanne d'avrichi, the Comtesse
Doriac, was German. Her father, who served through the Franco Prussian War,
was a German spy. It was from her mother she learned to speak
French sufficiently well to satisfy even an academician, and among Parisians to pass us
one. Both her parents were dead. Before they departed, knowing they could
leave their daughter nothing save their debts, they had her trained as an ass
But when they were gone, Marie in the Berlin hospitals, played politics,
intrigued, indiscriminately, misused the appealing violet eyes. There was a scandal,
several scandals. At the age of twenty five, she was dismissed from the
municipal hospital and as now save for the violet eyes, she was without resources.
As a compagnon de voyage with a German doctor. She traveled to Monte
Carlo. There she abandoned the doctor for Ri Ravignacu, a captain in the
French aviation Corps, who, when he sleeve ended, escorted her to Paris.
The duties of Captain Ravignacu kept him in barracks near the aviation field,
but Marie he established in his apartments on the Boulevard Houseman. One day he
brought from the barracks a roll of blueprints, and as he was locking them
in a drawer, said the Germans would pay through the nose for those.
The remark was indiscreet, but then Marie had told him she was French,
and anyone would have believed her. The next morning, the same spirit of
adventure that had exiled her from the Berlin hospitals carried her with the blueprints to
the German embassy. They're greatly shocked. They first wrote down her name and
a dress, and then, indignant at her proposition, ordered her out.
But the day following, a strange young German, who was not at all
indignant, but on the contrary, quite charming, called upon Marie for the
blueprints. He offered her a very large sum, and that same hour with
them, and Marie departed for Berlin. Marie did not need the money,
nor did the argument that she was serving her country greatly impress her. It
was rather that she loved intrigue, and so she became a spy. Ori
RAVIGNACU, the man she had robbed of the blue prints, was tried by
court martial. The charge was trasen, but Charles Ravignac, his younger brother,
promised to prove that the guilty one was the girl, and to that
end obtained leave of absence and spent much time and money at the trial.
He was able to show the record of Marie and Berlin and Monte Carlo that
she was the daughter of a German secret agent, that on the afternoon the
Prince disappeared, Marie, with an agent of the German embassy, had left
Paris for Erlynne. In consequence of this, the charge of selling military secrets
was altered to one of gross neglect, and Ri Ravignac was sentenced to two
years in the military prison at Tool. But he was of an ancient and
noble family, and when they came to take him from his cell in the
Chegimidi, he was dead. Charle, his brother disappeared. It was said
he also had killed himself, that he had been appointed a military attache in
South America, that to revenge his brother, he had entered the Secret Service.
But whatever became of him, no one knew. All that was certain
was that, thanks to the act of Marie Guessler on the roles of the
French army, the ancient and noble name of Ravignac no longer appeared. In
her chosen fashion, Marie Gesler found nothing discreditable of herself. Her opinion was
not high, and her opinion of men was lower. For her smiles,
she had watched several sacrifice honor, duty, loyalty, and she held them
and their kind in contempt to lie, to cajole, to rob men of
secrets they thought important, and of secrets the importance of which they did not
even guess was to her merely an intricate and exciting game. She played it
very well, so well that in the service her advance was rapid. On
important missions. She was sent to Russia, through the Balcons even to the
United States. There with credentials as an army nurse, she inspected our military
hospitals and unobtrusively asked many innocent questions when she begged to be allowed to work
in her beloved Paris. They told her when war came they intended to plant
her inside that city, and that until then, the less Paris knew of
her, the better. But just before the Great War broke to report on
which way Italy might jump, she was sent to Rome, and it was
not until September she was recalled. The telegram informed her that Aunt Elizabeth was
ill and that at once she must return to Berlin. This, she learned
from the cootebook wrapped under the cover of her thermos bottle, meant that she
was to report to the general commanding the German forces at Soissant. From Italy,
she passed through Switzerland, and, after leaving Basel on military trains,
was rushed north to Luxembourg and then west to Land. She was accompanied by
her companion, Betta, an elderly and respectable, even distinguished looking female in
the Secret Service. Her number was five hundred twenty eight. Their passes from
the War Office described them as nurses of the German Red Cross. Only the
Intelligence Department knew their real mission with her, also, as her chauffeur was
a young Italian soldier of Fortune paul Anfossea. He had served in the Belgian
Congo, in the French Foreign Legion in Algiers, and spoke all the European
languages. In Rome, where as a wireless operator he was serving a commercial
company in selling Marie copies of messages he had memorized. Marie had found him
useful, and war came. She obtained for him from the Wilhelm Strasse the
number two hundred ninety two from Lan, in one of the automobiles of the
General staff. The three spies were driven first to Soisson and then along the
road to Moo and Paris to the village of Nefchelles. They arrived at midnight,
and in a chateau of one of the Champagne princes, found the colonel
commanding the intelligence bureau. He accepted their credentials, destroyed them, and replaced
them with a lesse passey signed by the Mayor of Law that dignitary, the
colonel explained to citizens of Lan fleeing to Paris and the coast had issued many
passes, but as now between Law and Paris were three German armies, the
refugees had been turned back and their houses confiscated. From among them, said
the officer, We have selected one for you. It is issued to the
wife of Count Doriac, a captain of reserves, and her aunt, Madame
Binny. It asks for those ladies under their Chauffeur Brian is a safe conduct
through the French military lines. If it gets you into Paris, you will
destroy it and assume another name. The Count Doriac kiss now with his regiment
in that city. If you learned of the presence there of his wife,
he would seek her, and that would not be good for you. So
if you reach Paris, you will become a Belgian refugee. You are high
born and rich. Your chateau has been destroyed, but you have money.
You will give liberally to the Red Cross. You will volunteer to nursen the
hospitals, with your sad story of ill treatment by us, with your high
birth and your knowledge of nursing, which you're quiet, of course only as
an amateur. You should not find it difficult to join the ladies of France
or the American Ambulance. What you learn from the wounded English and French officers
and the French doctors, you will send us through the usual channels. When
do I start asked the woman. For a few days, explained the officer.
You remain in this chateau. You will keep us informed of what is
going forward. After we with a draw. Withdraw. It was more of
an exclamation than a question. Marie was too well trained to ask questions.
We are taking up a new position, said the officer on the end.
The woman, incredulous, stared, and we do not enter Paris. You
do, returned the officer. That is all that concerns you. We will
join you later in the spring. Meanwhile, for the winter, we entrench
ourselves along the end in a chimney of this chateau. We have set up
a wireless outfit. We are leaving it intact. The Chauffeur Brian, who
you must explain to the French you brought with you from LANs and who has
been long in your service, will transmit whatever you discover. We wish especially
to know if any movement toward are left. If they attack us in front
from Soisson, we are prepared. But of any attempt to cross the wars
and take us in flank, you must warn us. The officer rose and
hung upon himself his field glasses, map cases and side arms. We leave
you now, he said. When the French arrive, you will tell them
your reason for halting at this chateau was that the owner, Monsieur y Verney,
and his family are friends of your husband. You found us here,
and we detained you, And so long as you can use the wireless,
make excuses to remain. If they offered to send you on to Paris,
tell them your aunt is too ill to travel. But they will find the
wireless, said the woman. They are sure to use the towers for observation,
and they will find it. In that case, said the officer,
you will suggest to them that we fled in such haste we had no time
to dismantle it. Of course, you had no knowledge that it existed,
or as a loyal frenchwoman, you would have at once told them To emphasize
his next words, the officer pointed at her. Under no circumstances, he
continued, Must you be suspected if they should take Brion the act, Should
they have even the least doubt concerning him, you must repudiate him entirely,
if necessary, to keep your own skirts clear. It would be your duty
yourself to denounce him as a spy. Your first orders, said the woman
were to tell them, Bryon has been long in my service, that I
brought him from my home in law. He might be in your service for
years, returned the colonel. And you not know he was a German agent.
If to save myself I inform upon him, said Marie. Of course,
you know you will lose him. The officer shrugged his shoulders. A
wireless operator, he retorted, we can replace, but for you, and
for the service you are to render in Paris, we have no substitute.
You must not be found out. You are invaluable. The spy inclined her
head. I thank you, she said. The officer sputtered indignantly. It
is not a compliment, he exclaimed, it is an order. You must
not be found out. With a drawn some two hundred yards from the Paris
road, the chateau stood upon a wooded hill. Except directly in front,
trees of great height surrounded it. The tips of their branches brushed the windows,
interlacing. They continued until they overhung the wall of the estate, where
it ran with the road. The wall gave way to a lofty gate and
iron fence, through which those passing could see a stretch of noble turf as
white as a polo field, borders of flowers disappearing under the shadows of the
trays, and the chateau itself, with its terrace, its many windows,
its high pitched sloping roof broken by towers and turrets. Through the remainder of
the night, there came from the road to those in the chateau, though
roar and rumbling of the army and retreat. It moved without panic, disorder,
or haste, but unceasingly, not for an instant was there a breathing
spell. And when the sun rose, the three spies, the two women
and the chauffeur, who in the great chateau were now alone, could see
as well as here the gray column of steel rolling past below them. The
spies knew that the gray column had reached Clay, had stood within fifteen miles
of Paris, and then upon Paris had turned its back. They knew also
that the reverberations from the direction of mur that each moment grew more loud and
savage, were the French seventy five's whipping the gray column forward of what they
felt. The Germans did not speak in silence. They looked at each other
and in the eyes of Marie was bitterness and resolve to what noon Marie meant
Unfese in the great drawing room that stretched in the length of the terrace,
and from the windows of which through the park gates they could see the Paris
road. This that is passing now, said Marie, is the last of
our rear guard. Go to your tower, she ordered, and send word
that, except for stragglers and the wounded, our column has just passed through.
Nachelle into that any moment we expect the French. She raised her hand
impressively. From now, she warned, we speak French, we think French.
We are French. Unforesee or brillant as now he called himself addressed her
in that language. His tone was bitter. Pardon my lease, majesty,
he said, but this chief of your intelligence department is a duma mane.
He is throwing away a valuable life. Mary exclaimed in dismay. She placed
her hand upon his arm, and the violet eyes filled with concern. Not
yours, she protested, absolutely returned to the Italian I can send nothing by
this knapsack wireless that they will not to learn from others from here. Min
Uhland's the peasants in the fields, and certainly I will be caught. Did
I am dead? But a life? And in Paris the opportunities are unending.
From the French ligion etrange, I have my honorable discharge. I am
an expert wireless operator, and in their signal core I can easily find a
place. Imagine me then on the Eiffel Tower. From the air, I
snatch news from all of France. From the channel the North Sea. You
and I could work together as in Rome, but here between the lines,
with a pass from a village suprethe it is ridiculous. I am not afraid
to die, but to die because someone else's stupid, that is hard.
Marie clasped his hand in both of hers. He must not speak of death,
she cried. You know I must carry out my own orders, that
I must force you to take this risk, and you know that thought of
harm to you tortures me. Quickly, the young man disengaged his hand.
The woman exclaimed with anger. Why do you doubt me, she cried.
Brillon protested vehemently, I do not doubt you. My affection. Then,
in a whisper that carried with it the feeling of a caress Marie added softly,
my love. The young man protested miserably. You make it very hard,
Mademoiselle, he cried, You are my superior officer, I am your
servant. Who am I that I should share with others? The woman interrupted
eagerly, Ah, you are jealous, right? Is that why you are
so cruel? But when I tell you I love you and only you can
you not feel it is of the truth. The young man frowned, unhappily.
My duty, mademoiselle, he stamned with an exclamation of anger. Marie
left him as the door slamped behind her. The young man drew a deep
breath on his face was the expression of ineffable relief in the whole. Marie
met her elderly companion Berta, now her aunt Madame Binny. I hurt you,
quarreling, Beta protested, it is most indiscreet. It is not in
the part of the Comtesse Driac that she makes love to her chauffeur. Marie
laughed noiselessly and drew her further down the hall. He is imbecile, she
exclaimed. He will kill me with his solemn face and his conceit. I
make love to him. Yes, that he may work the more willingly,
but he will have none of it. He is jealous of the others,
Madame Bili frowned. He resents the others, she corrected, I do not
blame him. He is a gentleman and the others, demanded Marie. Were
they not of the most noble families of Rome. I am old and I
am ugly, said Bertin. But to me, all for Sea is always
as considerate as he is to you, who are so beautiful. An Italian
gentleman returned, Marie does not serve in Belgian congo, unless it is the
choice of that or the marble queries. I do not know what his past
may be, sighed Madame Binay, nor do I ask. He is only
a number, as you and I are only numbers, and I beg you
to let us work in harmony at such a time your love affairs threaten our
safety. You must wait, Marie laughed insolently. With the du Barrie.
She protested, I can boast that I wait for no man. No,
replied the older woman. You pursue him. Marie would have answered sharply,
but on the instant her interest was diverted. For one week, by day
and night She had lived in a world peopled only by German soldiers. Beside
her in the railroad carriage, on the station platforms, at the windows of
the trains that passed the one in which she rode, at the rate crossings,
on the bridges, in the roads that paralleled the tracks choking the streets
of the villages, and spread over the fields of grain. She had seen
only the gray green uniforms. Even her professional eye no longer distinguished regiment from
regiment, Dragoon, from Grenadier Ulan from Hussar or lunch dorm. Stripes,
insignia, numerals, badges of rank had lost their meaning. Those who wore
them no longer were individuals. They were not even human. During the three
last days, the automobile, like a motor boat fighting the tide, had
crept through a great green river of men, stained as though from the banks
by mud and yellow clay. And for hours, while the car was blocked
and in fury, the engine raced and had The gray green river had rolled
past her, slowly, but as inevitably as lava down the slope of a
volcano, bearing on its surface faces with staring eyes, thousands and thousands of
eyes, some fierce and bloodshot, others filled with a weariness, homesickness,
pain. At night she still saw them, the white faces, under the
sweat and dust, the eyes dumb, inarticulate, asking the answer. She
had been suffocated by German soldiers, by the mass of them, engulfed and
smothered. She had stifled in a land inhabited only by gray, green ghosts.
End of Part one, Part two of Somewhere in France by Richard Hudding
Davis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain recording by Caroline. Part
two. And suddenly, as though a miracle had been wrought, she saw
upon the lawn riding toward her a man in scarlet, blue and silver,
one man riding alone, approaching with confidence but alert, his reins fallen,
his hands nursing his carbine, His eyes searched the shadows of the trees,
the empty windows, even the sun swept sky. His was the new face
at the door, the new step on the floor, And the spy knew
had she beheld an army corps, it would have been no more significant,
no more menacing, than the solitary chasseur racheval scouting in advance of the enemy.
We are saved, exclaimed Marie, with irony. Go quickly. She
commanded to the bedroom on the second floor that opens upon the staircase, so
that you can see all who pass. You are too ill to travel.
They must find you in bed, and you said Bertha, I cried Marie
rapturously hastened to welcome our preserver. The preserver was a peasant lad under the
white dust. His cheeks were burnt a brown red, his eyes honest and
blue, throw much staring at the skies and at horizon lines, were pocketed
and enriched with tiny wrinkles. Responsibility had made him older than his years.
And in speech brief with the beautiful lady who, with tears of joy ran
to greet him, and who, in an ecstasy of happiness, pressed her
cheeks against the nose of his horse. He was unimpressed. He returned to
her her papers and gravely echoed her answers to his questions. This chateau,
he repeated, was occupied by their general staff. They have left no wounded
here. You saw the last of them pass a half hour since he gathered
up his reins. Marie shrieked in alarm. You will not leave us.
She cried. For the first time, the young man permitted himself to smile.
Others arrive soon, he said, He touched his shako, wheeled his
horse in the direction from which he had come, and a minute later Marie
heard the hoofs echoing through the empty village. When they came. The others
were more sympathetic. Even in times of war. A beautiful woman was still
a beautiful woman, and the staff officers who moved into the quarters so lately
occupied by the enemy, found, in the presence of the Countess Driac nothing
to distress them. In the absence of her dear friend, Madamie Verni,
the chatelaine of the chateau, she acted as their hostess. Her chauffeur,
showed the company cooks the way to the kitchen, the larder, and the
charcoal box. She herself, in the hunts of General Andrea, placed the
keys of the famous wine cellar, and to the surgeon, that the wounded
might be freshly bandaged, entrusted those of the linen closet. After the indignities
she had suffered well detained by les Bosch, her delight and relief at again
finding herself under the protection of her own people would have touched a heart of
stone, and the hearts of the staff were not of stone. It was
with regret they gave the contest permission to continue on her way. At this,
she exclaimed with gratitude. She assured them, were her aunt able to
travel, she would immediately depart. In Paris, she will be more comfortable
than here, said the kind surgeon. He was a reservist, and in
times of peace, of fashionable physician, and as much at his ease in
a boudoir as in a field hospital. Perhaps if I saw Madame Binny at
the suggestion, the contest was overjoyed. But they found Madame Binny in a
state of complete collapse. The conduct of the Germans had brought about a nervous
breakdown. Though the bridges are destroyed it at muh urged the surgeon. Even
with a detour, you can be in Paris in four hours. I think
it is worth the effort. But the mere thought of the journey through Madame
Biney into hysterics. She asked only to rest. She begged for an opiate
to make her sleep. She begged also that they would leave the door open,
so that when she dreamt, she was still in the hands of the
Germans, and awoke in terror. The sound of the dear French voices and
the sight of the beloved French uniforms might reassure her. She played her part
well. Concerning her, Marie felt not the least anxiety. But towards Brillant,
the chauffeur, the new arrivals were less easily satisfied. The General sent
his adjutant for the countess. When the adjutant had closed the door, General
Andre began abruptly the chauffeur Brian. He asked, you know him, you
can vouch for him, But certainly, protested Marie, he is an Italian,
as though with sudden enlightenment. Marie laughed, It was as if now
in the suspicion of the officer, she's so a certain reasonableness. Brian was
so long in the foreign legion, and Algier, she explained, where my
husband found him, that we have come to think of him as French,
as much French as ourselves, I assure you. The General and his adjutant
were regarding each other questioningly. Perhaps I should tell the comtesse, began the
General, that we have learned the signal from the adjutant was so slight,
so swift, that Marie barely intercepted it. The lips of the General shut
together like the leaves of a book, to show the interview was at an
end. He reached for a pen. I thank you, he said,
of course, prompted the adjutant, Madame Durriac understands. The man must not
know we inquired concerning him. General Andrea frowned at Marie. Certainly not,
he commanded. The honest fellow must not know that, even for a moment
he was doubted. Marie raised the violet eyes, reprovingly, I trust,
she said, with reproach, I too well understand the feelings of a French
soldier to let him know his loyalty is questioned. With the murmur of appreciation,
the officers bowed, and with a gesture of gracious pardon, Marie left
them outside in the hall with an but orderlies to observe. Like a cloak,
the graciousness fell from her. She was drawn two ways in her work.
Unfossea was valuable, but Unfossea, suspected, was less than of no
value. He became a menace, a death warrant. General Andrea had said,
we have learned, and the adjutant had halted him. What had he
learned to know that Marie would have given much. Still, one important fact
comforted her. Unfossea alone was suspected. Had there been concerning herself the slightest
doubt, they certainly would not have allowed her to guess her companion was under
surveillance. They would not have asked one who was herself suspected to vouch for
the innocence of a fellow conspirator. Marie found the course to follow difficult with
Unfosee under suspicion. His usefulness was for the moment at an end, and
to accept the chance offered her to continue on to Paris seemed most wise.
On the other hand, if concerning Unfosee she had succeeded in allaying their doubts,
the results most to be desired could be attained only by remaining where they
were. Their position inside the lines was of the greatest strategic value. The
rims of the servants were under the roof, and that Bryll should sleep in
one of them was natural. That to reach or leave his room he should
constantly be ascending or descending the stairs also was natural the field wireless outfit,
or as they had disdainfully described it, the knapsack wireless was situated not in
the bedroom he had selected for himself, but in one adjoining. At other
times this was occupied by the maid of Madami Verni. To summon her maid,
madamei Verni from her apartment on the second floor, had but to press
a button. And it was in the apartment of Madameie Verni, and on
the bed of that lady that Madame Binis now reclined. When through the open
door she saw an officer or soldier mount the stairs, she pressed the button
that rang a bell in the room of the maid. In this way,
long before whoever was ascending the stairs could reach the top floor. Warning of
his approach came to um for Sea. It gave him time to replace the
dustboard over the fireplace in which the wireless was concealed, and to escape into
his own bedroom. The arrangement was ideal, and already in formation picked up
in the holds below by Marie had been conveyed to Unforesee to relay in a
French cipher to the German general staff at Rheims. Marie made an alert and
charming hostess to all who saw her, it was evident that her mind was
intent only upon the comfort of her guests. Throughout the day, many came
and went, but each she made welcome. To each as he departed,
she called Beauchamp's efficient, tireless tactful. She was everywhere, in the dining
room, in the kitchen, in the bedrooms for the wounded, finding mattresses
to spread, in the gorgeous salons of the Champagne Prince, for the soldier
chauffeurs, carrying wine, into the courtyard, where the automobiles panted and growled,
and the arriving and departing shrieked for right of way. At all times
an alluring person, now the only woman in a tumult of men, her
smart frock covered by an apron, her head and arms bare, undismayed by
the sight of the wounded, or by the distant rumble of the guns.
The Comtesse Dorjac, who was an inspiring and beautiful picture the eyes of the
officers young and old, informed her of that fact, one of which already
she was well aware. By the morning of the next day, she was
accepted as the owner of the chateau, and though Continually she reminded the staff
she was present only as the friend of her schoolmate, madamei Verni. They
deferred to her as hostess. Many of them she already saluted by name,
And to those who with messages were constantly motoring to and from the front at
s s she was particularly kind. Overnight. The legend of her charm,
of her devotion to the soldiers of all the ranks, had spread from Sois
Sant to Mur, and from Mur to Paris. It was noon of that
day when from the window of the second story Marie saw an armored automobile sweep
into the courtyard. It was driven by an officer, young and appallingly good
looking, and, as was obvious by the way he spun his car,
one who held in contempt both the law of gravity and death. That he
was someone of importance seemed evident. Before he could alight, the adjutant had
raised to meet him. With her eye for detail, Marie observed that the
young officer, instead of imparting information, received it. He must, she
guessed, have just arrived from Paris, and his brother officer either was telling
him the news or giving him his orders, whichever it might be. In
what was told him. The new arrival was greatly interested. One instant in
indignation, his gauntleted fist beat upon the steering wheel, the next he smiled
with pleasure. To interpret his pantomime was difficult, and the better to inform
herself. Marie descended the stairs. As she reached the lower hole, the
two offices entered to the spy. The man last to arrive was always the
one of the greatest importance, and Marie assured herself that through her friend the
adjutant, to meet this one would prove easy. But the chauffeur, commander
of the armored car made it most difficult. At sight of Marie, much
to her alarm. As though greeting a dear friend, he snatched his keeping
from his head and sprang toward her. The major, he cried, told
me you were here, That you are, Madame Doriac. His eyes spoke
his admiration. In delight he beamed upon her. I might have known it,
he murmured, with the confidence of one who is sure he brings good
news. He laughed happily. And I, he cried, am Pierro,
Who the devil Piero might be? The spy could not guess she knew only
that she wished by a German shell. Piero and his car had been blown
to tiny fragments. Was it a trap, she asked herself, or was
the handsome youth really some one the Comtesse d'riac should know. But as from
his introducing himself, it was evident he could not know that lady very well.
Marie took courage and smiled. Which pierrot she parried? Pierre Tierie cried
the youth, to the relief of Marie. He turned upon the adjutant and
to him explained who Pierre tierri might be. Paul Doriac, he said,
is my dearest friend. When he married this charming lady. I was stationed
in Algier, and but for the war, I might never have met her.
To Marie, with his hands on his heart, in a most charming
manner, he bowed his admiration. He made no effort to conceal, and
so he said, I know why there's war. The adjutant smiled indulgently and
departed on his duties, leaving them alone. The handsome eyes of Captain Thierrie
were raised to the violet eyes of Marie. They praised her boldly, and
as boldly expressed their approval in burlesque, the young man exclaimed indignantly, Paul
deceived me, he cried. He told me he had married the most beautiful
woman in law. He has married the most beautiful woman in France. To
Marie, this was not impertinence, but gallantry. This was a language she
understood, and this was the type of man. Because he was the least
difficult to manage, she held most in contempt. But about you, Paul
did not deceive me, she retorted, in apparent confusion. Her eyes refused
to meet his. He told me Pierrot was a most dangerous man, she
continued, hurriedly, with wifely solicitude. She asked concerning Paul. She explained
that for a week she had been a prisoner in the chateau, and since
the mobilization of her husband, save that he was with his regiment in Paris,
she had heard nothing. Captain Thiery was able to give her latent news.
Only the day previous, on the boulevard he had met Count Doriac.
He was at the Grand Hotel, and as Tierri was at once motoring back
to Paris, he would give Paul news of their meeting he hoped he might
tell him that soon his wife also would be in Paris. Marie explained that
only the illness of her aunt prevented her from that same day joining her husband.
Her manner became serious. And what other news have you, she asked,
Here on the firing line, we know less of what is going forward
than you in Paris. So Pierre Tieri told her all he knew they were
preparing dispatches. He was at once to carry back to the general's staff,
and for the moment his time was his own. How could he better employ
it than talking of the war with a patriotic and charming frenchwoman. In consequence,
Marie acquired a mass of facts, gossip and guesses. From these,
she mentally selected such information as to her employers across the end would be of
vital interest. And of Part two, Part three of Somewhere in France by
rich Parding Davis. This LibriVox recording is in the public domain. Recording by
Caroline Part three and to rid herself of Thieri and on the fourth floor a
scone Faus, who was now her only wish. But in attempting this by
the return of the adjutant, she was delayed to Thieri. The adjutant gave
a sealed envelope thirty one Boulevardi's invalid, he said, with a smile.
He turned to Marie, and you will accompany him, I exclaimed Marie.
She was sick with sudden terror, but the tolerant smile of the adjutant reassured
her. The Count, your husband, he explained, has learned of your
detention here by the enemy, and he has besieged the general staff to have
you conveyed safely to Paris. The adjutant glanced at a field telegram he held
open in his haunt. He asks, He continued, that you be permitted
to return in the car of his friend, Captain Thierri, and that on
arriving you join him at the Grand Hotel. Thierie exclaimed with a delight.
But how charming, he cried. Tonight you must both dine with me at
Larus. He saluted his superior officer. Some petrol, sir, he said,
and I am ready to Marie, he added, the car will be
at the steps in five minutes. He turned and left them. The thoughts
of Marie snatching at an excuse for delay, raised madly the danger of meeting
the Count Doriac, her supposed husband, did not alarm her. The Grant
hotel has many exits, and even before they reached it for leaving the car,
she could invent an excuse that the gallant Thierrie would not suspect. But
what now concerned her was how before she was whisped away to Paris she could
convey too for see the information she had gathered from Tierrie. First, of
a woman overcome with a delight at being reunited with her husband, she gave
an excellent imitation. Then she exclaimed, in distress. But my aunt,
Madame Binais, she cried, I cannot leave her. The sisters of Saint
Francis, said, the adjutant arrive within an hour to nurse the wounded.
They will care also for your aunt. Marie concealed her chagrin. Then I
will at once prepare to go, she said. The adjutant handed her a
slip of paper. Yur lesse passee to Paris. He said, you leave
in five minutes, Madame. As temporary hostess of the chateau, Marie was
free to visit any part of it, and as she passed her door,
signal from Madame Biney told her that Unforesea was on the fourth floor, that
he was at work, and that the coast was clear, softly, and
the felt slippers she always wore, as she explained, in order not to
disturb the wounded, She mounted the staircase. In her hand, she carried
the housekeeper's keys, and as an excuse, it was her plan to return
with an armful of linen for the arriving sisters. But Marie never reached the
top of the stairs. When her eyes rose to the level of the fourth
floor, she came to a sudden halt at what she saw. Terror gripped
her, bound her hand and foot, and turned her blood to ice.
At her post. For an instant, Madame Biney had slept, and an
officer of the staff, led by curiosity, chance or suspicion, had unobserved
and unannounced, mounted to the fourth floor. When Marie saw him, he
was in front of the room that held the wireless. His back was toward
her, but she saw that he was holding the door to the room ajar,
that his eye was pressed to the opening, and that through it he
had pushed the muzzle of his automatic. What would be the fate of Aunt
Fausee Marine knew, nor did she for an instant consider it. Her thoughts
were of her own safety, that she might live, not that she might
still serve the Vlhelmstrasse, the Kaiser or the fatherland, but that she might
live. In a moment on foresee would be denounced, the chateau would ring
with the alarm. And though she knew on for Sea would not betray her
by others, she might be accused to avert suspicion from herself. She saw
only one way open. She must be the first to denounce on for Sea.
Like a dear she leaped down the marble stairs, and, in a
panic she had no need to assume, burst into the presence of the staff.
Gentlemen. She gasped, my servant, the Chauffeur Bryant is a spy.
There's a German wireless in the chateau. He is using it. I
have seen him. With exclamations, the officers arose to their feet. General
Andrea alone remained seated. General Andrea was a veteran of many colonial wars Cochin,
China, Algiers, Morocco. The Great War. When it came found
him on duty in the intelligence department. He's aquiline nose, bristling white eyebrows,
and flashing, restless eyes gave him his nickname of Lele. In amazement.
The flashing eyes were now turned upon Marie. He glared her as though
he thought she suddenly had flown mad. A German wireless, he protested,
it is impossible. I was on the fourth floor, panted Marie, collecting
linen for the sisters. In the room next to the linen closet, I
heard a strange buzzing sound. I opened the door softly. I saw Brillon
with his back to me, seated by an instrument. There were receivers clamped
to his ears. My God, the disgrace, The disgrace to my husband
and to me who vouched for him. To you, apparently in an agony
of remorse, the fingers of the woman laced and interlaced. I cannot forgive
myself. The officers moved to watch the door, but General Andrea halted them
still in a tone of incredulity, he demanded, when did you see this?
Marie knew the question was coming, knew she must explain how she saw
Brian, and yet did not see the staff officer, who, with his
prisoner might now at any instant appear. She must make it plain that she
had discovered the spy and left the upper part of the house before the officer
had visited it. When that was, she could not know, But the
chance was that he had preceded her by only a few minutes. When did
you see this, repeated the General. But just now, cried Marie.
Not ten minutes. Since why did you not come to me at once?
I was afraid, replied Marie. If I moved. I was afraid he
might hear me, and he, knowing I would expose him, would kill
me and so escape you. There was an eager whisper of approval for silence.
General Andrea slapped his hand upon the table, then continued Marie. I
understood. With the receivers on his ears, he could not have heard me
open the door, nor could he hear me leave. And I ran to
my aunt. The thought that we had harbored such an animal sickened me,
and I was weak enough to feel faint, but only for an instant.
Then I came here. She moved swiftly to the door. Let me show
you the room, she begged, you can take him in the act.
Her eyes wild with the excitement of the chase swept the circle. Will you
come, she begged. Conscious of the crisis, he interrupted. The orderly
on duty opened the door. Captain Tierry's compliments, he recited mechanically, and
is he to delay longer for Madame Doriac. With a sharp gesture, General
Andre waved Marie towards the door without rising. He inclined his head. Adieu,
Madame, he said, we act at once upon your information. I
thank you. As she crossed from the hole to the terrace, the ears
of the spy were assaulted by a sudden tumult of voices. They were raised
in threats and curses. Looking back, she saw all for Sea descending the
stairs. His hands were held above his head, behind him with his automatic
the staff officer she had surprised on the fourth floor was driving him forward,
above the clinched fists of the soldiers that ran to meet him. The eyes
of anful Sea were turned toward her. His face was expressionless, his eyes
neither accused nor reproached, and with the joy of one who has looked upon
it, then escaped the guillotine. Marie ran down the steps to the waiting
automobile with a pretty cry of pleasure. She leaped into the seat beside Tierrie.
Gaily. She threw out her arms to Paris, she commanded. The
handsome eyes of Tierrie, eloquent with admiration, looked back into hers. He
stopped through in the clutch, and the great gray car with the machine gun
and its crew of privates guarding the rear, plunged through the park to Paris,
echoed Tierrie, in the order in which Marie had last seen them.
Unfosee and the staff officer entered the room of General Andrea, and upon the
soldiers in the hall. The door was shut. The face of the staff
officer was grave, but his voice could not conceal his elation. My General,
he reported, I found this man in the act of giving information to
the enemy. There is a wireless General Andrea rose slowly. He looked neither
the officer nor at his prisoner. With frowning eyes, he stared down at
the maps upon his table. I know, he interrupted, someone has already
told me. He paused, and then, as though recalling his manners,
but still without raising his eyes, he added, you have done well,
sir. In silence. The officers of the staff stood motionless with surprise.
They noted that as yet neither anger nor curiosity had General Andrea glanced at the
prisoner. But of the presence of the General, the spy was most acutely
conscious. He stood erect, his arms still raised, but his body strained
forward, and on the averted eyes of the General, his own were fixed
in an agony of supplication. They asked a question. At last, as
though against his wish, toward the spy, the General turned his head and
their eyes met, and still General Andrea was silent. Then the arms of
the spy, like those of a runner who has finished his race, and
beats the tape. Exhausted, fell to his sides. In a voice low
and vibrant, he spoke his question. It has been so long, sir,
he pleaded, May I not come home. General Andre turned to the
astonished group surrounding him. His voice was hushed, like that of one who
speaks across an open grave. Gentlemen, he began, My children, he
added, a German spy, a woman involved in a scandal, Your brother
in arms, Henri Ravignac. His honor, he thought, was concerned,
and without honor he refused to live. To prove him guiltless. His younger
brother shall asked leave to seek out the woman who had betrayed Henrie, and
by us was detailed on secret service. He gave up home, family,
friends, He lived in exile, in poverty, at all times, in
danger, swift and ignoble death in the war office. We know him as
one who has given to his country services. She cannot hope to reward,
for she cannot return to him the years he has lost. She cannot return
to him his brother. But she can and will clear the name of Ri
Ravignac, and upon his brother Charles, bestow promotion and honors. The General
turned and embraced the spy. My children, he said, welcome your brother.
He has come home. Before the car had reached the fortifications, Marie
Gestlet had arranged her plan of escape. She had departed from the chateau without
even a handbag, and she would say that before the shops closed she must
make purchases. Le Pronton lay in their way, and she asked that when
they reached it for a moment, she might alight. Captain Thierry readily gave
permission from the department store. It would be most easy to disappear, and
an anticipation Marie smiled covertly. Nor was the picture of Captain Thierry impatiently waiting
outside unamusing. But before le Brunton was approached, the car turned sharply down
a narrow strait. On one side, along its entire length ran a high
gray wall, grim and forbidding in it was a green gate studded with iron
bolts. Before this, the automobile drew suddenly to a halt. The crew
of the armored car tumbled off the rear seat, and one of them beat
upon the green gate. Marie felt a hunt of ice clutch at her throat,
but she controlled herself. And what is this? She cried gaily at
her side. Captain Tiery was smiling down at her, but his smile was
hateful. It is the prison of Saint Lazarre, he said. It is
not becoming. He added sternly that the name of the Comtesse Doryac should be
made common. As the Paris rode. Fighting for her life, Marie thrust
herself against him. Her arms that threw out the journey had rested on the
back of the driving seat, caressed his shoulders. Her lips and the violet
eyes were close to his. Why should you care? She whispered fiercely.
You have me let the Count Doriyac look after the honor of his wife himself.
The charming Tieri laughed at her mockingly. He means to he said,
I am the Count Dorjac end of Part three, End of Somewhere in France
by Richard Harding Davis, recorded by Caroline in Groningen in the Netherlands in May
two thousand and sixteen. Thank you for listening.