The Woman of Mystery

From Chapter Suppose I were to tell you said Paul Delroze that I once stood face to face with him on French. . . .Élisabeth looked up at him with the fond expression of a bride to whom the least word of the man she loves is a subject of You have seen William II. in France?Saw him with my own eyes; and I have never forgotten a single one of the details that marked the meeting. And yet it happened very long ago.He was speaking with a sudden seriousness as though the revival of that memory had awakened the most painful thoughts in his mind.Tell me about it won''t you Paul? asked Élisabeth.Yes I will he said. In any case though I was only a child at the time the incident played so tragic a part in my life that I am bound to tell you the whole story.The train stopped and they got out at Corvigny the last station on the local branch line which starting from the chief town in the department runs through the Liseron Valley and ends fifteen miles from the frontier at the foot of the little Lorraine city which Vauban as he tells us in his Memoirs surrounded with the most perfect demilunes imaginable.The railway-station presented an appearance of unusual animation. There were numbers of soldiers including many officers. A crowd of passengers—tradespeople peasants workmen and visitors to the neighboring health-resorts served by Corvigny—stood amid piles of luggage on the platform awaiting the departure of the next train for the junction.It was the last Thursday in July the Thursday before the mobilization of the French army.Élisabeth pressed up against her Oh Paul she said shivering with anxiety if only we don''t have war!War! What an idea!But look at all these people leaving all these families running away from the frontier!That proves nothing.