Tales of the South Pacific - James A. Michener [160]
"I am the madame!" Latouche replied, nodding. "Madame Barzan!"
Haricot, who had been given his job of civil affairs officer because of a year's French he'd had in Terre Haute high school, bowed low and said, "Eh, bien, Madame Barzan..."
"I know!" Latouche cried. "I know very well, Colonel Haricot. You think I some mean old woman steal government property from U. S. A." She pouted at him.
"No," he replied cajolingly. "Not steal. But you have it all the same, and I've got to get it back."
"What you think you take?" Latouche asked, her chin stuck out. "That electric generator," Haricot replied.
"Colonel Hensley gave me that." The colonel was taken aback by the name.
"He had no right to do that," he blustered.
"And I have it rebuilt," Latouche insisted. "No damn good when I get it. Salvaged! See, I got bills right here. I no s'pose you take that away, Colonel Haricot!"
"Everything goes tomorrow morning. We start at nine o'clock. This stealing of government property has got to stop." He clicked his heels again and left. He'd teach these Frenchmen a thing or two.
Of course, we worked half the night hiding G. I. gear all through the jungle. In the morning Haricot appeared with his men and hauled away the odds and ends we had overlooked. But they didn't take the generator! Latouche calmly loaded a Marine revolver with American ball cartridges, and stood guard over the power plant. Haricot studied her wryly for a moment and ordered his men elsewhere.
When the work was completed the colonel appeared in the salon. "Gentlemen," he said dramatically. "This place is now off limits. A guard has been posted! You will all leave!"
Sure enough, at the white picket fence two soldiers stood guard with automatic rifles. "The heat's on!" an officer whispered to me, but that night we all sneaked back along the shore for dinner in the bare room. Latouche was pleasant and even happy.
"I jus' find out the colonel is not married! I think we have some very good fun with him!"
The fun started when the sergeant in charge of the guard applied to the colonel for permission to marry Mlle. Marthe De Becque. "Who's she?" the colonel asked. "Some little tart?"
"She's Madame Barzan's sister, sir."
"You mean up at the plantation?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Damn it all! I told you to guard the place, not invade it. How long has this been going on?"
"I fell in love with her."
"What were you doing inside the gates?"
"I wasn't inside the gates, sir! She came outside. That is, after I went inside."
"What in the world goes on here?" the confused colonel shouted. "You jump in that jeep!"
Latouche greeted Haricot with demure attention. "Something missing at the camp?" she asked.
"Sir?" the colonel bellowed at me. "What are you doing here?"
"Problem at the PT base, sir," I explained. "Important business."
"Oh!" the colonel replied. After all, it was customary for the Navy to have a lieutenant doing what a colonel did in the Army. He studied me and then turned toward Latouche.
"Army in trouble, Colonel Haricot?" she asked.
"This man says he wants to marry your sister."
"My sister? Laurencin? Noé!" she called. "Send Laurencin."
"It's Marthe," the sergeant protested, but Latouche ignored him.
"You shut up!" the colonel ordered.
Soon Laurencin, blushing prettily, entered the room. She, like her sister, had a sprig of frangipani in her hair.
"What's this I hear, Laurencin?" Latouche demanded abruptly. "You fall in love with this boy?"
"It's Marthe!" the sergeant protested.
"You be still!" Haricot thundered. He was rather enjoying the scene By heavens, he could understand how the young fellow... Laurencin held up her frail hands. "I never seen him before," she said. "What's that?" Haricot demanded. "It's her sister!" the sergeant said again. "I know it's her sister," the colonel shouted.
"Oh!" Latouche cried in mock embarrassment. "Oh, Colonel Haricot!" She gently pushed the colonel in the chest. "Of course! My other sister! Noé! Ask Marthe to come in!" She took the colonel by the arm and pressed quite closely to him. "Come