The New Magdalen

THE youngest of the three strangers--judging by features, complexion,

and manner--was apparently an Englishman. He wore a military cap and

military boots, but was otherwise dressed as a civilian. Next to him

stood an officer in Prussian uniform, and next to the officer was the

third and the oldest of the party. He also was dressed in uniform, but

his appearance was far from being suggestive of the appearance of a

military man. He halted on one foot, he stooped at the shoulders, and

instead of a sword at his side he carried a stick in his hand. After

looking sharply through a large pair of tortoise-shell spectacles, first

at Mercy, then at the bed, then all round the room, he turned with

a cynical composure of manner to the Prussian officer, and broke the

silence in these words: "A woman ill on the bed; another woman in attendance on her, and no one

else in the room. Any necessity, major, for setting a guard here?"

"No necessity," answered the major. He wheeled round on his heel and

returned to the kitchen. The German surgeon advanced a little, led by

his professional instinct, in the direction of the bedside. The young

Englishman, whose eyes had remained riveted in admiration on Mercy, drew

the canvas screen over the doorway and respectfully addressed her in the

French language.

"May I ask if I am speaking to a French lady?" he said.

"I am an Englishwoman," Mercy replied.

The surgeon heard the answer. Stopping short on his way to the bed,

he pointed to the recumbent figure on it, and said to Mercy, in good

English, spoken with a strong German accent.

"Can I be of any use there?"

His manner was ironically courteous, his harsh voice was pitched in one

sardonic monotony of tone. Mercy took an instantaneous dislike to

this hobbling, ugly old man, staring at her rudely through his great

tortoiseshell spectacles.

"You can be of no use, sir," she said, shortly. "The lady was killed

when your troops shelled this cottage."

The Englishman started, and looked compassionately toward the bed.

The German refreshed himself with a pinch of snuff, and put another

question.

"Has the body been examined by a medical man?" he asked.

Mercy ungraciously limited her reply to the one necessary word "Yes."

The present surgeon was not a man to be daunted by a lady's disapproval

of him. He went on with his questions.

"Who has examined the body?" he inquired next.

Mercy answered, "The doctor attached to the French ambulance."

The German grunted in contemptuous disapproval of all Frenchmen, and

all French institutions. The Englishman seized his first opportunity of

addressing himself to Mercy once more.

"Is the lady a countrywoman of ours?" he asked, gently.

Mercy considered before she answered him. With the object she had in

view, there might be serious reasons for speaking with extreme caution

when she spoke of Grace.