No other word could describe 'em."

Patsy's heart sank; she was greatly disappointed.

"And she so young and pretty!" she murmured.

Henderson started to smile, but quickly suppressed it.

"Shall I show them up, Miss?" he inquired.

"Of course," answered Uncle John, as the girl hesitated. "You should
have brought her to us at once. Where is that Belgian--Rondel?"

"He is guarding the woman, sir."

"Guarding her!"

"She's a little difficult to manage, sir, at times. She left Charleroi
willingly enough, but she's tricky, and it is our duty to deliver her to
you safely."

"Get her at once, Henderson," exclaimed Patsy, recovering her wits; "and
the dear children, too."

Presently there was a sound of shuffling on the stairs and through the
corridor. The door opened to admit the arrivals from Charleroi.

Henderson first pushed in a big woman dressed in a faded blue-checked
gown, belted around the waist in a manner that made her look like a sack
tied in the middle. Her head was bare, her hair awry, her face sullen
and hard; she was undeniably "fleshy" and not altogether clean. She
resisted Henderson at every step and glared around her with shrewd and
shifting eyes.

Following her came Monsieur Rondel leading a boy and a girl, the latter
being a small replica of the woman. The boy was viciously struggling to
bite the hand of the Belgian, who held him fast.

"Ah, well," said Rondel, first sighing and then turning with a smile to
face the lieutenant, "we have performed our mission. But heaven guard us
from another like it!"

Patsy stared hard at the woman.

"This cannot be Mrs. Denton," she gasped, bewildered.

"Indeed?" answered Rondel in English. "She declares that is her name.
Question her in French or Flemish, Miss Doyle."

Patsy addressed the woman in French but could elicit no reply. She stood
impassive and silent.

"How did you make the mistake?" asked the girl, looking reproachfully
first at Henderson and then at Rondel, both of whom were evidently
astonished to find themselves at fault. "I have seen a photograph of
Mrs. Andrew Denton, taken recently, and she is young and pretty
and--and--rather small."

Monsieur Rondel cleared his throat to answer:

"It happened in this way, mademoiselle: We searched one whole day in
Charleroi for Mrs. Denton but could not find her. My friends, on whom I
had relied for assistance, had unfortunately moved away or joined the
army. The townspeople were suspicious