en staircase that hung
suspended, apparently from nothing, to what had been the upper story.

It was quite open to the sky and the rain was coming in. On the side
toward the German line there was no wall. There were no partitions, no
windows, only a few broken sticks of what had been furniture. And in
one corner, partly filled with rain water, a child's cradle that had
miraculously escaped destruction.

Downstairs to the left of the corridor was equal destruction. There
was one room here that, except for a great shell-hole and for a
ceiling that was sagging and almost ready to fall, was intact. Here on
a stand were surgical supplies, and there was a cot in the corner. A
soldier had just left the cot. He had come up late in the afternoon
with a nosebleed, and had now recovered.

"It has been a light day," said my guide. "Sometimes we hardly know
which way to turn--when there is much going on, you know. Probably
to-night we shall be extremely busy."

We went back into the living room and I consulted my watch. It was
half past ten o'clock. At eleven the bombardment was to begin!

The conversation in the room had turned to spies. Always, everywhere,
I found this talk of spies. It appeared that at night a handful of the
former inhabitants of the town crept back from the fields to sleep in
the cellars of what had been their homes, and some of them were under
suspicion.

"Every morning," said Miss C----, "before the German bombardment
begins, three small shells are sent over in quick succession. Then
there is about fifteen minutes' wait before the real shelling. I am
convinced that it is a signal to some one to get out."

The officers pooh-poohed the idea. But Miss C---- stuck to her point.

"They are getting information somehow," she said. "You may laugh if
you like. I am sure I am right."

Later on an officer explained to me something about the secret service
of the war.

"It is a war of spies," he said. "That is one reason for the deadlock.
Every movement is reported to the other side and checkmated almost
before it begins. In the eastern field of war the system is still
inadequate; that accounts for the great movements that have taken
place there."

Perhaps he is right. It sounds reasonable. I do not know with what
authority he spoke. But certainly everywhere I found this talk of
spies. One of the officers that night told of a recent experience of
his.

"I was in a church tower at ----," he said. "There wer