But this boy could never have been more than dimly conscious of most things in his short life, he was so stupid and could neither read nor write; indeed, he had a vocabulary of but a few hundred words. Peter had been a laborer on the estates of a Polish n.o.bleman when the call came to arms. And so often in the past week while she had been caring for him Mildred had been reminded of some farm animal by the way the boy endured pain, he had been so dumb and uncomplaining.
Even now he made no attempt to speak, but as she leaned over and took his hand Mildred realized that the boy could live but a few moments longer.
After a little tender smoothing of his cover the girl turned away. The Russian peasant is always a devout Catholic, so Mildred realized that he would wish a priest with him at the end.
She had walked only a few feet from the young soldier's bedside when an unaccustomed atmosphere of excitement in the ward arrested her attention.
It would not be necessary for her to summon a priest; some one must have antic.i.p.ated her desire. For the priest was even now approaching.
However, he was a familiar figure, pa.s.sing hourly among the wounded and their attendants; his presence would cause no excitement.
The next instant Mildred understood the priest was not alone. He was accompanied by one of the most famous men in all Europe.
Although she had never seen him until this instant, Mildred Thornton had not a moment's doubt of the man's ident.i.ty. This was the Commander of the fortress at Grovno, General Dmitri Alexis, at the present hour the bulwark of many Russian hopes.
For the past few weeks the Germans had been driving the Russians farther and farther back beyond the boundaries of Poland and near the heart of Russia. Here at Grovno the Russian army was expected to make a victorious stand. The faith of the Russian people was centered in General Dmitri Alexis.
Unlike most Russian officers, he had always been devoted to the interests of the common people, although a son of one of Russia's n.o.ble families. But he was known to be a shy, quiet man with little to say for himself, who had risen to his present rank by sheer ability.
To Mildred's eyes he seemed almost an old man; in fact, he must have been about fifty. His hair was iron gray, but unlike most Russians his eyes were a dark blue. As he wore no beard, the lines about his mouth were so stern as to be almost forbidding.
Mildred knew that he was an intimate personal friend of the Czar and realized just to what extent he must feel the weight of his present responsibilities.
Therefore she was the more surprised at his appearance in the hospital ward.
Except for a courtly inclination of his head the great man paid no attention to the greetings that were offered him by the nurses and doctors. Walking down the center of the room he had eyes only for the wounded men who lined the two walls. Then his sternness relaxed and his smile became a curious compound of pity and regret.
Mildred found herself staring without regard to good manners or breeding. Why should this man create such an atmosphere of trust and respect? She had seen other great generals in the armies of the Allies before today, but never one who had made such an impression.
General Alexis and the priest paused by the bedside of the Russian boy who was Mildred's patient.
There the great man's face softened until it became almost womanish in its sympathy. Slowly and reverently the dying boy attempted to raise his general's hand to his lips.
General Alexis said a few words in Russian which the young soldier understood, but Mildred could not. For he attempted to shake his head, to whisper a denial, then smiling dropped his arms down by his sides.
Mildred made no effort to move forward to a.s.sist him, for she did not feel that she had a place in the little group at this moment. She merely watched and waited, trying to see clearly through the mist in her eyes.
The boy's broad chest, strong once as a young giant's, but now with a scarcely beating heart beneath it, quivered with what seemed a final emotion. The same instant General Alexis leaned down and pinned against the white cotton of his rough shirt the iron cross of all the Russias.
Afterwards he kissed him as simply as a woman might have done.
That was all! So natural and so quiet it was, Mildred Thornton herself was hardly aware of the significance of the little scene she had just witnessed.
Here in a country where the gulf between the rich and the poor, the humble and the great was well nigh impa.s.sable, a single act of courage had bridged it.
What act of valor Peter had performed Mildred never knew. She only knew that it had called from his duties one of the greatest men in Europe, that he might by his presence and with his own hands show homage to the humblest of soldiers.
When the simple ceremony was over the boy lay quite still, scarcely noticing that his general knelt down beside his bed. For his eyes were almost closing.
Neither did Mildred dare move or speak.
Against the walls the other nurses and doctors stood quiet as wooden figures, while the wounded were hushed to unaccustomed silences.
Then the Russian priest began to intone in words which the American girl could not understand, but in a voice the most wonderful she had ever heard. His tones were those of an organ deep and beautiful, of great volume but without noise.
Ceasing, he lifted an ikon before the young soldier's dimming eyes, and p.r.o.nounced what must have been a benediction.
The next moment the great stillness had entered the hospital chamber and the Russian boy with the iron cross above his heart lay in his final sleep.
All at once Mildred Thornton felt extraordinarily weary. Backward and forward she could see the big room rise and recede as though it had been an immense wave. The dim light was turning to darkness, when instinctively reaching out her hand touched the back of a chair. With this she steadied herself for the moment. Until now she had not known how tired she was from her vigil, nor how she had been moved by the scene she had just witnessed. After a little she would go to her own room and perhaps Nona or Barbara would be there. But she must wait until General Alexis and the priest had gone away.
The next moment she realized that the great man had risen and was approaching toward her.
Mildred looked wholly unlike a Russian woman. Her heavy flaxen hair, simply braided and twisted about her head, showed a few strands underneath her nurse's cap. Her face was almost colorless, yet her pallor was unlike the Russian, which is of a strange olive tone. Now and then in her nurse's costume Mildred Thornton became almost beautiful, through her air of strength and refinement and the unusual sweetness of her expression.
The eyes that were turned toward General Alexis were a clear blue-gray, but there were deep circles under them, and the girl swayed a little in spite of her effort to stand perfectly still.
For several seconds the great man regarded her in silence. Then he stretched forth his hand.
"You are an American Red Cross nurse, I believe. May I have the honor of shaking your hand. I have been told that three young American women are here at our fortress at Grovno helping to care for our wounded. You have traveled many miles for a n.o.ble cause. In the name of my Emperor and his people may I thank you."
The little speech was made in perfect English and with such simplicity that Mildred did not feel awed or surprised.
However, she was not certain how she replied or if she replied at all.
She only felt her cold fingers held in a hand like steel and the next moment the great general had gone out of the room.
Immediately after Mildred found herself surrounded by a group of Russian nurses. The Russians are amazing linguists and several of the nurses could speak English. Evidently they were overwhelmed by the honor the American girl had just had bestowed upon her. It had almost overshadowed for the time the greater glory of the young soldier.
An American Red Cross nurse had been individually thanked by one of the greatest commanders in Europe for her service and the services of her friends to his soldiers and his country.
But there was another personal side to the situation which the Russian hospital staff appeared to find more amazing.
General Dmitri Alexis was supposed never to speak to a woman. He was an old bachelor and was said to greatly despise the frivolities of Russian society women.
Incredible as it may seem, there is gossip even inside a great fortress in time of war.
But Mildred's Russian companions had neither time nor opportunity to reveal much to her at present. As soon as it was possible she begged that she might be allowed to go to her own room. Although she shared it with Nona and Barbara, neither one of them was there at the time.
But instead of lying down at once Mildred wrote a few lines to her mother. She knew that she would be greatly pleased by the attention that had just been paid her. Of course Mildred realized that the General's thanks were not bestowed upon her as an individual, but as a representative of the United States, whose sympathy and friendliness Russia so greatly appreciated.
CHAPTER IV
_An Encounter_
Barbara had been writing a letter to d.i.c.k Thornton. She was seated on the side of her cot bed in a tiny room high up in a tower, with only one small window overlooking the courtyard below.
Although it was well into the twentieth century, this room was just such an one as might have concealed the hapless Amy Robsart in the days of Lord Leicester and Kenilworth Castle. But although Barbara had not to suffer the thought of a faithless lover, at the present moment she was feeling extremely sorry for herself.