Chapter Fourteen—The Ring on Her Finger
It was five thirty when Una reached the village. As she walked by the remains of the market, Louis waved to her.
"So happy I met 'ou, mademoiselle! Old Louis wishes 'ou zee best of luck and a safe journey home," he called out, beaming jovially.
Una smiled rather helplessly. She didn't want to smile; she felt drained and devoid of any emotion, but somehow she couldn't help herself. Louis's high spirits seemed to bolster her low ones.
As Una found a seat in the train station—thankfully, one that she didn't have to share with anyone this time—she remembered the words of Dean Priest that had led her to where she was now. "It's time to go back and say farewell to my dreams, to shut that door in hopes of another one opening some day." And his parting words: "Farewell, ma'am. May the Fates treat you kindly and the ring on your finger bring you happiness." Well, how the Fates would treat her remained to be seen, and as for the ring on her finger…the ring…
Una gasped in horror. At some point during her travels that day, Shirley's ring had fallen off! Her head, which had already been filled with a jumble of emotions, decided that this was the proper time for a headache, causing any rational thoughts in her head to flee as fast as they could.
"If I don't come home with Shirley's ring," she thought, "he'll want to know what happened to it. I don't think that I could bear to tell him that I lost it paying my respects to his brother…he would wonder why I was there. Then he'd find out that I love Walter, and he'd be hurt…what a mess I've made of things!"
There was only one thing to do. She would have to retrace her steps and find the ring. It would mean staying the night somewhere in Courcelette…Una didn't know where, since she had seen no inn, but she would find something. Grasping her handbag firmly, Una left the station, although not without a sigh. She had wanted to make this visit as quickly and as painlessly as possible, make her exit, and never look back, although she hadn't known whether or not she could carry through with the third of those resolutions.
A memory of the afternoon flickered in her mind…a ray of the setting sun glinting off of something in the grass of the cemetery. It must have been the ring! She remembered it feeling loose on her finger, and it must have fallen off. There was still twenty minutes or so until the last train arrived, and everyone knew that trains were always late. She could run back, find the ring, and be on the train for Paris without any problems whatsoever.
It was twilight, the shadows growing longer and longer. As Una hurried down the village street, searching for the ring all the while, one thought kept reoccurring in her mind. What if I can't find the ring? Raindrops began to fall, softly at first, then turning to a drenching autumn rain. Una was soaked to the skin. What am I going to tell Shirley?
Finally—the cemetery! Una ran to where she thought she'd last seen the ring…but there was no ring there.
"What am I going to do?" she cried. Her day, while not an easy one, had been thought of as a conclusion to one chapter of her life…but the page had not yet been turned.
A noise, somehow able to be heard above the rain, startled her. It was like eerie, haunting music, played on a flute. Louis's words drifted through her mind. "…Zee Piper. A ghost, you see…every now and then, zee Piper plays his flute at night. Such music! One could almost understand why the soldiers followed him."
"No," Una told herself firmly. "I am imagining things. It's like the time that Faith, Carl, and I were scared of Henry Warren's ghost. Just because Louis told me some story that sent shivers all throughout my body doesn't mean that the Piper is real. It's just birds that I hear…no time for nonsense. I need to find Shirley's ring!"
The ring was nowhere to be found. Drenched, discouraged, and somewhat frightened, Una collapsed onto an old stone bench just as the train sounded it's "All aboard!" whistle back in the village.
"No!" Una sprung up and started to run. A very small corner of her mind knew the attempt to catch the train was futile, but her scrambled emotions had taken over. The music continued, much to her dismay. A reoccurring hallucination is always more problematic than one that you only have once.
Suddenly, a flash of lightning illuminated the cemetery. A figure with a flute appeared, outlined by the light. Una screamed, terrified.
The figure seemed to realize that she was there and took a step towards her. Una backed up, tripping over a cross.
Then everything went black.