et cause to
bless the day when she first entered the house.

She snatched up Colonel Roseberry's letter, and put it into the case
with the other papers. The opportunity was before her; the chances were
all in her favor; her conscience said nothing against trying the daring
scheme. She decided then and there--"I'll do it!"

Something jarred on her finer sense, something offended her better
nature, as she put the case into the pocket of her dress. She had
decided, and yet she was not at ease; she was not quite sure of having
fairly questioned her conscience yet. What if she laid the letter-case
on the table again, and waited until her excitement had all cooled down,
and then put the contemplated project soberly on its trial before her
own sense of right and wrong?

She thought once--and hesitated. Before she could think twice, the
distant tramp of marching footsteps and the distant clatter of horses'
hoofs were wafted to her on the night air. The Germans were entering the
village! In a few minutes more they would appear in the cottage; they
would summon her to give an account of herself. There was no time for
waiting until she was composed again. Which should it be--the new life,
as Grace Roseberry? or the old life, as Mercy Merrick?

She looked for the last time at the bed. Grace's course was run; Grace's
future was at her disposal. Her resolute nature, forced to a choice
on the instant, held by the daring alternative. She persisted in the
determination to take Grace's place.

The tramping footsteps of the Germans came nearer and nearer. The voices
of the officers were audible, giving the words of command.

She seated herself at the table, waiting steadily for what was to come.

The ineradicable instinct of the sex directed her eyes to her dress,
before the Germans appeared. Looking it over to see that it was in
perfect order, her eyes fell upon the red cross on her left shoulder. In
a moment it struck her that her nurse's costume might involve her in a
needless risk. It associated her with a public position; it might lead
to inquiries at a later time, and those inquiries might betray her.

She looked round. The gray cloak which she had lent to Grace attracted
her attention. She took it up, and covered herself with it from head to
foot.

The cloak was just arranged round her when she heard the outer door
thrust open, and voices speaking in a strange tongue, and arms grounded
in the room behind her. Should she w