The Camp Fire Girls Across the Seas

Betty was dressed in an inexpensive white muslin with a broad white leather belt and a big straw hat encircled with a wreath of blue corn flowers. Probably her entire outfit had cost less than a single pair of slippers in the days of their wealth.

"I hope, Esther, that you have not allowed Betty to go about the country alone before I joined you," Polly began in her old half-mocking and half-serious tones.

Betty laughed at the idea of Polly O'Neill grown suddenly conventional; however, Esther took the suggestion gravely.

"I don't know and I am truly glad you have arrived, Polly dear, for a great many reasons," she replied. "You know I have to be in Berlin two days every week and Dr. Ashton is away the greater part of the time. And somehow neither one of us has ever been able to persuade Mrs. Ashton or Betty to appreciate the difference between Germany and America. Betty seems to think she can wander about here as freely as if she were in Woodford."

"Well, I shall see that she does not wander alone any more if I can help it," Polly added with decision. And then, "Tell me, please, for goodness sake, Betty Ashton, how you are going to manage to start a Camp Fire club in Waldheim? In the first place do you know enough of the German language to teach other people, and otherwise how will you ever be able to explain all that the Camp Fire means, its ceremonies and ideals?"

For the moment Betty's face clouded, as any lack of faith on Polly's part had always checked her enthusiasm.

"I can't teach them all of anything, Polly, for in the first place I have never begun to understand myself one half that our Camp Fire organization stands for. But I have the feeling that because it has always given me so much help and happiness I should at least try to suggest the idea to other people. You see the Camp Fire is not just an American institution. It is almost equally popular in England, though there it is called 'The Girl Guides.' And of course in time its influence is obliged to spread to Germany, so I hope to be a pioneer. I have been to the school for girls in Waldheim and managed to interest one of the teachers. She has promised me that when we have read and studied enough together she will form a Camp Fire club among her pupils and be their first guardian. So you see I shall not count for much."

"Angel child!" exclaimed Polly enigmatically, but she offered no further criticism.

And indeed the three girls spent a wonderfully interesting two hours among Betty's new acquaintances. For Esther and Betty both spoke German extremely well after their two years' residence in Berlin, and although Polly had to be unusually quiet, she did remember enough of her school German to understand the others. And when their call had finally ended Betty promised to return twice each week to continue their work, and though Polly made no such promise, her enthusiasm was almost equally great.

Later on the girls found a tiny restaurant in the village where they drank hot coffee and ate innumerable delicious German cookies. For they had left word that they were not to be expected at home for luncheon, since the best of their excursion was to take place after the trip to the village.

For a long time Betty had a place in mind she had particularly wished Esther and Polly to see and now this was their first opportunity since Polly's arrival for a long walk.

"It is only a specially lovely bit of woods with a little house inside, which looks as though it might be the place where the old witch lived in the story of 'Hansel and Gretel,'" she explained. "The house is built of logs, but there are the same tiny window panes and a front door with a great bolt across it. It is so gloomy and terrifying that it is perfectly delicious," she concluded gaily, for they had been walking for some distance to get into her enchanted forest and so far no sign of it had appeared. Plainly the other two girls were growing weary.

Half an hour later, however, both Esther and Polly were sufficiently good sportsmen to confess that their long walk had not been in vain. For Betty's forest, as they chose to call the place, was entrancingly lovely, the greenest, darkest, coolest spot in all that country round. And so curiously secluded! Hundreds of great forest trees and shrubbery so thick that it must have been left uncut and untrampled upon for many years. Indeed, except for Betty's previous acquaintance with a path that led to the house in the woods, there could have been no possibility of the girls' discovering it. For once having climbed a low stone fence, they had seen and heard nothing except a solitary deer that had fled at their approach and an unusual number of wild birds.

Not far away from the little house Polly and Esther found seats within a few feet of each other on the trunks of two old trees, while Betty stretched herself along the ground, closing her eyes as though she had been a veritable Sleeping Princess. The three girls had no thought of being disturbed, for the little house was locked and barred and entirely deserted.

Then in the midst of the peace and silence of the scene a bullet whistled through the air. And following the report of a rifle Esther tumbled quietly off her resting place.

CHAPTER XI

And Its Consequences

Betty bent over her sister first, saying with a kind of quick intake of her breath: "Esther, what is the matter? Are you hurt? Oh, I have always been afraid that something dreadful would happen to you, you are so good!"

And at this Esther smiled, although somewhat faintly, allowing Polly to assist her to her feet.

"Well, I am not being punished for my virtues this time, Betty child," she answered. "I was just a ridiculous coward, and when that bullet passed so close to my head that I am quite sure it cut off a lock of my hair, it made me so faint and ill for an instant that I collapsed. I am all right now. But I wonder where the shot could have come from?"

Then the three girls stood silently listening, almost equally pale and shaken from their recent experience. In another moment they heard the noise of some one stirring about in the underbrush at no great distance away and walking in their direction. They waited speechless and without moving.

Then suddenly, before they could see the speaker, a voice called out angrily: "Don't try to escape; stay where you are or I shall fire again. For I will not endure this lawlessness any longer."

And almost immediately a young man appeared before them in a hunter's costume of rough gray tweed, carrying his gun in his hand. His expression was angry and masterful, his face crimson and his eyes had ugly lights in their blue depths. Yet instantly Esther recognized the speaker as the same young fellow whom they had met on horseback a week or ten days before.

At his first glance toward Esther and Polly his face changed; for obviously he was both startled and mystified. Then as he caught sight of Betty, who was standing just back of the other two girls, another wave of crimson crossed his face, but this time it was due to embarrassment and not anger. With a swift movement he lifted his hat and bowed so low that in an American it would have seemed an absurdity. Yet somehow with him the movement had both dignity and grace. Straightway Polly O'Neill, in spite of her vexation, decided that never before had she seen a more perfect "Prince Charming." The young man's hair was bright gold, his skin naturally fair and yet sufficiently browned from exposure, his features almost classic in shape. And while he was not exceptionally tall, his figure was that of a young soldier in action with the same muscular strength and virility.

"I shall never be able to express to you my chagrin and my regret," he began, including the three girls in his speech but in reality addressing himself to Betty. He spoke English with only the slightest foreign accent. "These happen to be my woods and I have been greatly annoyed recently by trespassers who destroy my game at a season of the year when there can be neither profit nor pleasure in it. And this when the park is posted with signs warning intruders."

"I am sorry that we did not chance to see the signs," Esther murmured.

"You can understand that we are strangers in this neighborhood, Americans," Polly defended more hotly. "But of course we should not have wandered in here without inquiring of some one whether or not we had the privilege. In the United States we know very little about game preserves and people are willing to have you enjoy the beauty of their forests. But we shall leave immediately and promise never to trouble you again."

"But that means that you have not forgiven me and I ask your pardon with all my heart. It is my pride, my great pleasure to have you consider my place worthy of your attention. Miss Ashton," the young foreigner now turned directly to Betty, "surely you can appreciate and pardon my mistake."

Neither of the other two girls had been paying any special attention to Betty, but at the stranger's surprising knowledge of her name they turned toward her at once. And both decided that they had never seen her look so pretty or so angry in her life. Apparently she had not spoken before because she had not been willing to trust herself. And Polly had a sudden sense of satisfaction in the knowledge that the Princess did not lose her poise and self-control in her anger, as she so invariably did.

"You ask us to understand and pardon your mistake," Betty now began quietly. "But suppose that the bullet which you fired so carelessly had killed my sister. Would you still have expected us to make the same answer? Of course we are just as much intruders upon your property as if we were men instead of American girls. But I presume that when you fired, thinking that we might be poachers, you would have been indifferent had you wounded one of us. For I believe in Germany it is the fashion for the soldiers who are intended for the defense of their country to have little respect for the lives of their countrymen."

This was a long and bitter speech for a young girl to have made. But remember that Betty Ashton had been living in Germany for the past two years at a time when the army had been frequently criticized and had suffered just as most travelers do from the rudeness of German officers upon the streets and in places of public amusement. Moreover, she had not yet recovered from her moment of fright over Esther and was annoyed at having their pleasure so destroyed.

Her accusation so surprised the young man to whom it was addressed that for a moment he did not reply. For evidently he did not often find himself obliged to be placed on the defensive side in a discussion and the position did not please him.

"I regret to have frightened you. And I had no intention of injuring any one," he remarked stiffly. "It was my plan to fire into the air, but I stumbled at the critical moment. However, I did not suppose that the shot came anywhere in your direction. And I am sorry that you should consider this but another instance of the lack of courtesy in His Majesty's officers."

There was an awkward pause. Betty was holding her big flowered hat pressed close against her white dress, her lips were scarlet and her face so pale that her gray eyes looked almost smoke-colored. The wind and the long walk had loosened her hair until it was curling and blowing about her forehead like tiny red-gold clouds. Honestly no young man could have remained angry with her for any great length of time.

She slipped one arm through Esther's, as Esther had continued white and nervous, and beckoning Polly with the other to join them, with the merest inclination of her head the Princess started to lead the little company away. But before she had gone more than a few feet she stopped and turned around.

The young man was standing exactly where they had left him with his hat still in his hand and his face and figure rigid.

Betty advanced nearer toward him. "Lieutenant von Reuter," she said, "it is I who must now beg your pardon. You were kind to me once when my maid and I lost our way in trying to find the village of Waldheim. But under no circumstances should I have said anything that reflected upon you or your friends. I know that you are an officer in the German army, so naturally you must think as little of American courtesy as – " But not knowing just how to end her sentence Betty did the wisest possible thing and smiled.

And at once the young man was figuratively on his knees before her again. "Don't go away just yet," he pleaded; "you must know that I have been asking my cousin Frederick about you. It is he who has told me your name and he must also have spoken of me to you. You yourselves have said that it was lovely here in my forest and surely you must be weary enough to remain a little time longer. It is not as though we were entire strangers, with Frederick your friend and my relative."

This time Betty laughed outright. "Your cousin is scarcely our friend; we have only boarded in the same pension with him in Berlin while my sister was there studying music." She looked a little more searchingly at Esther. Esther had not been very well for several weeks and now certainly was unfit for the long walk home in the hottest part of the afternoon without more rest.

With an inclination of her pretty head the Princess surrendered.

"If you really are sure that you won't mind we should like to sit here in the shade a little longer," she confessed. "That is if we will not trouble you. You must not feel that you must remain with us, for I promise that we shall do nothing any harm."

Without replying, Carl von Reuter then led Esther to her discarded tree trunk, the other girls having already found seats.

"If you will be good enough to wait for a few moments I should like very much to bring you some tea. The little house there is my hunting lodge and I have all sorts of bachelor arrangements inside," he announced. And the suggestion was far too welcome for any one of the girls to decline.

Then in the five minutes of the young man's absence as rapidly as possible Betty sketched the outline of her acquaintance with him and the knowledge of his history which she had since been able to acquire. He was the son of the German count whose stone castle they had seen, and of course the heir to the title and estate. He was also, as she had already revealed, a lieutenant in the German army and probably about twenty-two or-three years old. The family was a very old and proud one and although they still owned a great deal of land, they were extremely poor.

But Betty had to cease her confidences abruptly, seeing that their unexpected host was coming toward them with four cups of tea and a tray of small crackers and cakes.

No American man could have performed these small social services with so little embarrassment, but as Carl explained he had had an English mother and had been taught to assist her with their guests from the time he was a boy.

And by the time the tea had been drunk and the cakes eaten the little company had apparently reached terms of complete friendliness, having already forgotten their uncomfortable earlier meeting.

"I am dreadfully sorry to find that your little house in the woods is nothing but a hunting lodge," Betty confided. "For you see I have been telling my sister and Miss O'Neill that this place was a kind of enchanted forest where 'Hansel and Gretel' must once upon a time have lost their way."

However, Carl von Reuter shook his head protestingly. "Why not think of it instead as Siegfried's forest before he went forth in search of Brunhilde."

"Won't you tell us the story of Siegfried?" Polly asked. "I have never heard the opera and it has been such a long time since I read it."

Carl laughed. "I am a soldier, not a poet," he explained, "and the legend is too long and too complicated for me to repeat all of it to you. Besides, you are sure to recall it as soon as I begin. Siegfried, you remember, was the son of Siegmund and Sieglinde and the youth who knew no fear. He is brought up in a forest by a wicked dwarf named Mime, who desires that Siegfried wrest the magic treasure of the Nibelung from the giant Fafnir who guards it in the gaping cave of the Niedhole. With the sword of his father Siegfried goes forth and destroys the giant and then appears wearing the glittering tarn helmet, the invincible armor and the magic ring. From the blood of the dead Fafnir, with which Siegfried touches his lips, he is enabled to understand the voices of birds. And when one of these sings to him of a maiden surrounded by flames who can be won only by the man who knows no fear, Siegfried sets out in search of Brunhilde. On a grassy mound he discovers a sleeping figure clad in armor and surrounded by flames. Removing the shield and helmet, he sees a flood of red-gold hair rippling around the form of a sleeping woman."

The story teller stopped and Esther inquired:

"You know the story of Siegfried so well, I wonder if you sing?"

"Not very well," the young man replied. And then, as though to disprove his own words and without further urging, he began singing in a fine, clear tenor, glancing now and then toward Betty Ashton, the beautiful song of Siegfried's that awakens the sleeping Brunhilde:

"No man it is!Hallowed raptureThrills through my heart;Fiery anguishEnfolds my eyes.My senses wanderAnd waver.Whom shall I summonHither to help me?Mother, mother!Be mindful of me."

Later in the afternoon when they had almost reached their own cottage in the woods, Betty suddenly slipped an arm across her older sister's shoulder. Polly had already said good-by.

"After all we did discover a kind of enchanted forest, didn't we, Esther?" she whispered.

But Esther was tired and annoyed. "Lieutenant von Reuter was an agreeable enough fellow for a foreigner, if that is what you mean, Betty," she returned. "But I got rather tired of his telling us the story of Siegfried which I certainly knew perfectly well. Besides, it seemed to me that he was trying to make an impression upon us. And I shall never, never be able to understand how you can like these German youths so much. I should feel a great deal happier about you and so would your brother if you were safely back in Woodford."

"Don't be a goose, dear," was Betty's only answer.

CHAPTER XII

The Uncertain Future

"Have you ever wished some days that you were nine years old instead of nineteen, Miss Adams – Margaret?" Polly O'Neill corrected herself hastily.

The girl and the older woman were sitting out in the yard in front of their funny little German cottage one afternoon just before twilight. Polly had been reading aloud until the dusk had settled down too thickly, and since then had been silent, gazing pensively at the far line of hills toward the west.

Margaret Adams looked closely at the girl before replying. For the past few days she had seen that there was something unusual weighing upon Polly's mind, since she was never able to conceal her emotions, and had wondered whether she was feeling homesick or if something had occurred to worry her. But she only answered lightly: "No, Polly, I am afraid when one is thirty-five one is more apt to wish to be nineteen than nine. But would you like to tell me, dear, what special objection there is to your present age? Don't, if you feel that you would rather not, or if you would be betraying a confidence."

But Polly gave a characteristic shrug. "No," she returned, "I would not be betraying a confidence, only an imagination, and since the imagination happens to be my own, I suppose I have the right to betray it."

Not comprehending exactly what the younger girl was trying to say and yet understanding that she would make herself plain later on, the woman quietly waited. She was interested in the processes of Polly's mind and liked to see them work themselves out.

"Do you like foreign men?" was the girl's next apparently irrelevant question.

But by this time Miss Adams had begun to have a faint suspicion of what might be at the end of her companion's confession. For in the past two weeks since Polly's, Betty's and Esther's visit to the German forest, she too had become interested in some of its consequences. Yet she answered with entire truthfulness:

"Why, of course, Polly child, I like foreign men. Why should not one? It is absurd and prejudiced to like or dislike a person because of his nationality; it is the man's own character that counts."

"Oh, yes, I know that is what one should feel and say. I don't mean to be rude," Polly added quickly, blushing over her fatal habit of saying whatever was uppermost in her mind. "I was just wondering whether it was actually true. Don't most of us really in the end like best the kind of people and life to which we have been accustomed. Now, for example, just suppose that we take a girl who has been brought up in the United States almost all her life, where she has had boy acquaintances and friends whom she has known in a simple, intimate way, without thinking of any one of them seriously. Then bring her to a foreign country, take Germany, just when she is about grown. All of a sudden imagine a young fellow turning up entirely unlike her old boy friends, handsome, charming and behaving as though he were falling in love with her. Do you believe that the girl could honestly care for him? Don't you think that it would just be a mistaken fancy on her part and that some day when she grew older she would want her old friends and associations again. Why, she might even meet one of her former acquaintances and find that she liked him best, because after all he was also an American and thought about life and women and lots of other things more in the way that she did."

Margaret Adams covered both ears with her hands. "My dear Polly," she began, "if you think I have imagination enough to follow all those supposings and all those mixed-up sentences and ideas, you must consider me cleverer than I am. But as long as I happen to be able to guess whom you are talking about, don't you think we might be straightforward. We will never speak of it to any one else, nor to each other if it seems wiser not. But of course you mean – "

"Betty!" finished Polly. And then sighing profoundly: "You see, ever since our meeting in the woods the other day with Carl von Reuter he has been coming to see Betty. He brought his father, the old count, to call on Mrs. Ashton and has been sending Betty flowers and they have been riding together and he does not even pretend not to admire her tremendously. He makes Esther and me perfectly miserable, for you see Germans seem so different from Americans, so sentimental and silly, I think. Why, I overheard Lieutenant von Reuter calling Betty Brunhilde, and instead of being bored she actually appeared pleased. Esther and I can't understand it. Of course we realize that it is absurd to believe that people can learn to care for each other in two weeks, yet just the same Betty is behaving strangely. And Esther wonders if it is her duty to speak to Richard Ashton before things go any further. Mrs. Ashton would be no good; she is too pleased over Betty's being admired by a member of the German nobility. She would never be able to see all the mischief that might result from it. But then Esther and Dick Ashton are not friends as they once were. Dick has hardly anything to do with Esther nowadays – even leaves on an earlier train the mornings that she has to go into Berlin for her music lessons. And yet when Esther first came to live with Mrs. Ashton, when she was a hundred times less attractive than she is now, why he was kinder to her than any of the rest of us. Oh me, oh my, it is a strange world!" And down went Polly's chin into the palm of her hand in a characteristic manner.

For a moment Margaret Adams did not reply. For perhaps a good deal better than Polly she appreciated the disaster that might result from the present circumstances. Betty was only nineteen and of course Polly was right in presuming that she could hardly know her own mind. And yet the romance and beauty of her surroundings, the good looks of the young lieutenant with the glamour of his title and position, were sufficiently strong influences to affect a much older person.

Yet notwithstanding Betty's beauty and charm, Miss Adams did not have the same uneasiness that Esther and Polly suffered. For she did not believe that Lieutenant von Reuter could marry a girl without a dower, no matter what his personal inclination might be. And Betty had no money and so far as any one knew no chance of receiving any amount except what her brother and sister might some day be able to earn. The danger that the older woman dreaded was that Betty herself might possibly misunderstand the young foreigner's attentions and that she might learn to care for him more than would be wise for her happiness.