The Amazing Interlude - Page 164/173

Mr. Travers had been eying Sara Lee.

"Didn't use you up, did it?" he asked. "You're not looking quite fit."

Sara Lee was very pale just then. In a moment she would know.

"I'm quite well," she said. "I--do you hear from Mrs. Cameron?"

"Frequently. She has worked hard, but she is not young." It was Mrs.

Travers who spoke. "She's afraid of the winter there. I rather think,

since you want to go back, that she will be glad to turn your domain

over to you for a time."

"Then--the little house is still there?"

"Indeed, yes! A very famous little house, indeed. But it is always

known as your house. She has felt like a temporary chatelaine. She

always thought you would come back."

Tea had come, as before. The momentary stir gave her a chance to brace

herself. Mr. Travers brought her cup to her and smiled gently down

at her.

"We have a plan to talk over," he said, "when you have had your tea. I

hope you will agree to it."

He went back to the hearthrug.

"When I was there before," Sara Lee said, trying to hold her cup steady,

"there was a young Belgian officer who was very kind to me. Indeed, all

the credit for what I did belongs to him. And since I went home I

haven't heard--"

Her voice broke suddenly. Mr. Travers glanced at his wife. Not for

nothing had Mrs. Cameron written her long letters to these old friends,

in the quiet summer afternoons when the sun shone down on the lifeless

street before the little house.

"I'm afraid we have bad news for you." Mrs. Travers put down her

untasted tea. "Or rather, we have no news. Of course," she added,

seeing Sara Lee's eyes, "in this war no news may be the best--that is,

he may be a prisoner."

"That," Sara Lee heard herself say, "is impossible. If they captured

him they would shoot him."

Mrs. Travers nodded silently. They knew Henri's business, too, by that

time, and that there was no hope for a captured spy.

"And--Jean?"

They did not know of Jean; so she told them, still in that far-away

voice. And at last Mrs. Travers brought an early letter of Mrs.

Cameron's and read a part of it aloud.

"He seems to have been delirious," she read, holding her reading glasses

to her eyes. "A friend of his, very devoted to him, was missing, and he

learned this somehow.