he saw nobody else in her walk to the chateau. There she had to wait
for some minutes at the gate for Dolge to answer her summons.

"The Mademoiselle Fielding," he said, bowing. "I am sure the countess
will approve my asking you in at once. She is fond of you,
Mademoiselle."

"I am glad, Dolge. I like to have people approve of me," smiled Ruth.

"Ah, yes, Mademoiselle. And the major--our Henri, our cadet! I am
sure _he_ approves of you, Mademoiselle."

The American girl flushed warmly, but managed to hide her disturbed
countenance from the old serving man.

"He is not at home, is he, Dolge?" she quietly asked.

"But, no, Mademoiselle. He went hurriedly yesterday. And would you
believe it?"

"Believe what?"

"He went in one of those flying machines. _Oui_! _Oui_! Right up
into the sky, Mademoiselle," went on the old man excitedly. "Yonder he
mounted it beyond the gates. Ah, these times! It is so that soon one
will take an aeroplane as one takes a taxicab in the city. Is it not?"

Ruth listened and marveled. Major Marchand flying into the air from
the chateau here on yesterday, when it was only yesterday that she met
him, in his brave uniform, taking pity on a poor old woman who was
driven out of the battle zone?

Suddenly her mind caught the point. The cogs slipped into
juxtaposition, as it were, and everything unrolled in its proper
sequence before her.

It was on yesterday, as she went toward the Dupay farm, that she had
seen the rising aeroplane, from which had been dropped the paper bomb,
wherein Ruth had found the message from Tom Cameron. It was from just
beyond the gates that Dolge said the machine rose that had borne away
Major Marchand from the chateau.

"The time, Dolge?" she demanded, stopping short in the walk and looking
at the surprised old servant. "The time that Major Henri flew away?"

"Oh, la! It was around one of the clock. Not later."

That was the hour! Ruth was confident she was making no mistake now.
It was either the major, or the pilot of the plane, that had dropped
the message to her. Two hours and a half later she had seen the major
at the cot of Aunt Abelard. He might easily have flown clear beyond
the German lines and back again by that time. And he might easily have
worn his major's uniform beneath his other garments.

But Tom's message. That was the point that puzzled her. If dropped by
Major Marchand, how had he obtained it? What did the French