The Daredevil | Page 7

"_Mais, vive la France_," I murmured to myself and was happy again.
But, alas! At the joy of all this entertainment there was one sadness. It
was of my dear friend, Mr. Peter Scudder. There was no pleasure, but
great seriousness, in his face during the whole afternoon.
"Don't mind him; poor Pete's chewing a grouch," was what his good
friend Mr. William Raines answered to my lament over his sadness.
And that sadness lasted for three days, up unto the day before we came
to a sight of the Lady of Liberty of America. Then his face found a
great radiance and I perceived that he was full of much business. I
found him with a notebook, in deep consultation with my Capitaine, the
Count de Lasselles, and then in earnest consultation with many of the
other gentlemen. I had much wonder; but at the dinner that night, which
was the last before we made the landing to America, I discovered all of
his good actions. While we were at the last of the coffee, Mr. Peter
Scudder arose and made a bow to the capitaine of the ship, beside
whom I sat, which salutation did not in any way include me, and then
turned to the direction of my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles.
"Sir," he said in that very nice voice which it is said is of Philadelphia,
"I have the honor to ask you if you will take charge of a fund of five
thousand dollars, which has been given by the passengers of this boat,
to be sent immediately to a field hospital of France, preferably the
nearest in need to the battlefield of the Marne." And with no more of a
speech than that he seated himself and did not so much as make a
glance in my direction when he mentioned the battlefield on which my
father had died. I think that Mr. Peter Scudder is a very great gentleman
and I sat very still and white, with my head held high and tears rising
from the depths of France in my heart.

"My honored friends," answered my Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles,
as he rose from his place at the foot of the table and stood tall and slim
in the manner of a great soldier, "it is impossible that I say to you my
gratitude for this expression of your friendship for my country. So
many dollars will bring life and an end of suffering to many hundreds
of my brave boys, but the good will and sympathy it represents from
America to France will do still more. The fund shall go to the place you
request and I now beg to offer to you a toast that will be of an
understanding to you." And at that moment he raised his glass of
champagne and said:
"To the destiny of those born of American and French blood
commingled!"
All those present arose to their feet and drank that toast with loving
looking at me, and I did not know what I should do until that good old
gray boat capitaine patted me upon the shoulder and said across his
empty glass:
"God bless and keep you, child!"
"I thank everybody," I answered as I went into the embrace of my very
large lady friend from the State of Cincinnati, and then into the
embrace of the other ladies.
"I've been knitting all day for two months but I'm going to begin to sit
up at night," sobbed the lady from a queer Keokuk name as I took her
into my embrace on account of her extreme smallness.
It was at a very late hour, just before retiring, that I ascended to the
deck with my Capitaine to view the effect of a very young moon on the
waves of the ocean.
"Is it that you think now your soldier of France has done your
command well, _mon Capitaine_?" I asked of him.
"Most extremely well, and entirely in the mode of a woman. Those two
young men have made of themselves very noble competitors for your

favor, but remember that it is of a truth that only a 'daredevil' would
bring together such high explosives. I salute you!" he made answer to
me with a laugh which ended in a sigh. "Child, little child," he
continued as he bent over my hand to kiss it as he did each night before
he conducted me to the head of the stairs leading down into my cabin,
"above all take unto yourself all that is possible of joy in the present,
for we do not know what the supply will be for the future. Perhaps it
will be like the harvests of France--burned up in a
world-conflagration."
"Ah, but, mon Capitaine, will you not