CHAPTER XXV

The light of the General's cigar had scarcely disappeared when the door opened softly, and a head was cautiously thrust in. After a careful look about, Von Pfaffen entered. His humility was gone, and the slight stoop of his shoulders had lifted into a straight military line. He went directly to the table and began eagerly searching among the papers. Once or twice he stopped, his head raised, alertly listening, but the house was quiet and the General's walk had carried him far into the garden.

The man turned the papers over and over. Evidently he failed to find what he sought. His brows bent in disappointment, but loath to give up easily, he went on with the search.

Suddenly, the door opened again, and he turned with a start to face Nanine.

"What are you jumping for?" she laughed, her broad Breton face wrinkling curiously like one of her native russet apples.

"What do you want?" he snarled, furious at being interrupted. "I thought you were gone."

"You did, did you?" she asked suspiciously. "What difference would it make to you? I came back when the young Colonel and his wife arrived, I'm needed."

"But you're not needed here," the man's voice was shaking with impatience and anger. He had borne the insolence of this Breton peasant woman long enough. Nanine, however, was impervious to his dislike.

"Madame wants you to take some tea and biscuits to the Colonel's wife," she said stolidly, and Antoine, with a scowl, turned back to the table.

There was so little time. Through the window he could see the red tip of the General's cigar moving back and forth as his steps carried him nearer the house.

"I can't go now, I'm busy," he said.

Nanine put her hands on her heavy hips and stood facing him insolently.

"Is the General talking, or the butler?" she mocked.

"Don't be impertinent," Antoine's brow darkened, "it's your work!"

"My work!" sneered the old woman. "It is my work to clean up about the house. What are you bothering in here for anyway?" and her small eyes narrowed suspiciously.

It did not suit Von Pfaffen's plans to have her ill-will just now. She must be cajoled.

"Look here," he said more graciously, "if you take up the tea and biscuits, I'll give you two francs."

"Two francs! H'm!" Nanine's scorn was unbounded.

"Five francs," he bargained.

Nanine looked at him out of the corner of her eye. Five francs was five francs in these hard times. It might pay to be good-natured.

"Well then," she mumbled grudgingly. "I'll do it; five francs and a bottle of Burgundy for Jacques."

The man dived into his pocket hurriedly.

"There's your money," he said thrusting it into her hand. "I'll get you the wine later. Run along, run along now, it is late," and he urged her toward the door, his eyes on the window and the ever-nearing red spark of the General's cigar.

Nanine shook his hand from her arm.

"Don't be pushing me," she grumbled, "I'll go fast enough," but Von Pfaffen fairly shoved her through the door, and shutting it tightly after her, hurried back to the table.

Once more, he searched among the maps and scattered papers. All these weeks spent here in this menial position must not be wasted. This paper was the crowning point of his work, it must be found, but the sound of the General's step on the terrace, sent him to the fireplace, where, his shoulders once more stooping in the meekness of the servant, he busied himself with the dying embers.

As the General came through the window, he glanced hastily from the man by the grate to the scattered papers on the table.

"I thought you had gone to bed," he said sharply.

"No, Monsieur," answered the man, turning to him mildly. "I have been waiting to let the Colonel out, I don't like leaving the doors unlatched these nights."

The man looked so humble, so harmless, as he rose and faced him, the sagging lines of his thin face were so pitiful, that the General was ashamed of his suspicions.

"I suppose, Antoine," he said kindly, going over to the table and beginning to gather the papers together, "you regret not being at the front?"

The man's eyes sparkled a moment, as they rested on the General's bent head.

"Yes, Monsieur," he said, with a meaning of his own, "but in serving you, I am serving my country."

This was a sentiment the old soldier could appreciate. How loyal all these men were, he thought. It was true, one could serve one's country in being of service to those who could give their blood for her.

"It must be hard for a patriot like you," he said, beginning to roll up his maps, "not to be engaged in active service."

The man dropped his eyes discreetly.

"It is, Monsieur," he said quietly, "but at present I can only watch and wait."

"Our cause must not fail, Antoine," said the General as he fastened the straps of his map case, and the man answered vehemently.

"That is what I have been saying to myself, Monsieur."

The words had such an earnest ring to them, that the General looked up curiously.

"You have been in the army, Antoine?"

"Yes, Monsieur, when I was younger. I hope to serve my country soon again."

The other sighed. At the rate France was needing men, age would soon be no barrier.

"The time may come before you expect, Antoine," he said.

The man's eyes sparkled again, and a curious smile played about his thin lips.

"I am patiently awaiting that opportunity, Monsieur," he replied.

The General looked at him with approval.

"I admire your patriotism, Antoine," he said, and the man bent in his slight, servile bow, as he answered:

"I shall endeavor to live up to it, Monsieur."

His master gathered the map cases and turned to the door.

"Well," he said a little sadly, "France may need you before the war is over."

Von Pfaffen smiled ruefully.

"I hope not, Monsieur," he said, and then added hastily, "that is--I trust it will not be necessary."

"Well," said the General, turning to the door, "see that the lights are down. Good-night," and with the map case carefully under his arm, he left the room.

Von Pfaffen stood watching him go, his eyes fixed covetously on the packet he carried. Then he shrugged his shoulders contemptuously and came back to the table, but after another fruitless look, he decided that what he was in search of was out of his reach for the time being. How to get it, that was the problem, for get it he must. For a moment he stood thinking, then carefully locking the windows, he turned out the lights and went slowly out of the room.