stion. Otherwise----" he paused significantly.

"Oh, you could not! You could not be so cruel, so vile as to harm him
if he is a prisoner. It would break my mother's heart."

"Mademoiselle, there is nothing which I would scruple to
do--nothing--if by so doing I advanced the glorious cause of our
Fatherland." The man's small eyes gleamed with the fire of a fanatic;
revolting though he was, yet was there an element of grandeur about
him. Even the Kid, watching silently from the bed, felt conscious of
the power which seemed to spring from him as he stood there, squat and
repulsive, with the lovely French girl kneeling at his feet. He saw
her throw her arms around his knees, and turn up her face to his in an
agony of pleading; and then of a sudden came the tragedy.

Discipline or no discipline, a man is a man, and Fritz Rutter had
reached the breaking-point. Perhaps it was the sight of the woman he
loved kneeling at the feet of one of the grossest sensualists in
Europe, perhaps---- But who knows?

"Marie," he cried hoarsely, "it's not true. Philippe is dead; they
cannot hurt him now. Get up, my dear, get up." With folded arms he
faced the other man as the girl staggered to her feet. Heedless of the
blazing passion on the Colonel's face, she crept to Fritz and hid her
face against his chest. And as she stood there she heard the voice of
her tormentor, thick and twisted with hate.

"For that, Lieutenant Rutter, I will have you disgraced. And then I
will look after your Marie. Orderly!" His voice rose to a shout as he
strode to the door.

"Good-bye, my love." Fritz strained her to him, and the Kid saw her
kiss him once on the lips. Then she disengaged herself from his arms,
and walked steadily to where the Colonel still shouted up the entrance.
Outside there was the sound of many footsteps, and the girl paused just
behind the cursing maniac in the door.

"So you will look after me, will you, monsieur?" Her voice rose clear
above the noise, and the man turned round, his malignant face
quivering. The Kid watched it fascinated, and suddenly he saw it
change. "I think not," went on the same clear voice; and the guttural
cry of fear rang out simultaneously with the sharp crack of a revolver.

"My God!" Rutter stood watching the crumpling figure as it slipped to
the ground in front of the girl; and then with a great cry he sprang
forward. And with that cry, which seemed to ring through his brain,
ther