ntier," said Irene, a wan smile lending
pathos to her beauty. "I travelled with Germans from Berlin. If I saw a
German now I think I should die."

At that, Madame Joos rose. "Calm thyself, Henri," she said. "These
people are friends."

"Maybe," retorted her husband. He turned on Dalroy with surprising
energy, seeing that he was some twenty years older than his wife. "You
say that you came with Maertz," he went on. "Where is he? He has been
absent four days."

By this time Dalroy thought he had taken the measure of his man. No
matter what the outcome to himself personally, Miss Beresford must
be helped. She could go no farther without food and rest. He risked
everything on the spin of a coin. "We are English," he said, speaking
very slowly and distinctly, so that each syllable should penetrate
the combined brains of the Joos family. "We were only trying to
leave Germany, meaning harm to none, but were arrested as spies at
Aix-la-Chapelle. We escaped by a ruse. I knocked a man silly, and took
some of his clothes. Then we happened on Maertz at a corner of Franz
Strasse, and persuaded him to give us a lift. We jogged along all right
until we reached the cross-roads beyond the hill there," and he pointed
in the direction of the wood. "A German officer refused to allow us to
pass, but a motor transport knocked the wagon over, and this lady and I
were thrown into a field. We got away in the confusion, and made for a
cowshed lying well back from the road and on the slope of the hill. At
that point my friend fainted, luckily for herself, because, when I
examined the shed, I found the corpse of an old woman there. She had
evidently been about to milk a black-and-white cow when she was
bayoneted by a German soldier----"

He was interrupted by a choking sob from Madame Joos, who leaned a hand
on the table for support. In pose and features she would have served as
a model for Hans Memling's "portrait" of Saint Elizabeth, which in
happier days used to adorn the hospital at Bruges. "The Widow Jaquinot,"
she gasped.

"Of course, madame, I don't know the poor creature's name. I was
wondering how to act for the best when two soldiers came to the stable.
I heard what they were saying. One of them admitted that he had stabbed
the old woman; his words also implied that he and his comrade had
violated her granddaughter. So I picked up a milking-stool and killed
both of them. I took one of their rifles, which, with its bayonet and a
nu