d through Switzerland, and, after leaving Basle, on
military trains was rushed north to Luxemburg, and then west to Laon.
She was accompanied by her companion, Bertha, an elderly and
respectable, even distinguished-looking female. In the secret service
her number was 528. Their passes from the war office described them as
nurses of the German Red Cross. Only the Intelligence Department knew
their real mission. With her, also, as her chauffeur, was a young
Italian soldier of fortune, Paul Anfossi. He had served in the Belgian
Congo, in the French Foreign Legion in Algiers, and spoke all the
European languages. In Rome, where as a wireless operator he was
serving a commercial company, in selling Marie copies of messages he
had memorized, Marie had found him useful, and when war came she
obtained for him, from the Wilhelmstrasse, the number 292. From Laon,
in one of the automobiles of the General Staff, the three spies were
driven first to Soissons, and then along the road to Meaux and Paris,
to the village of Neufchelles. They arrived at midnight, and in a
chateau of one of the Champagne princes, found the colonel commanding
the Intelligence Bureau. He accepted their credentials, destroyed
them, and replaced them with a laissez-passer signed by the mayor of
Laon. That dignitary, the colonel explained, to citizens of Laon
fleeing to Paris and the coast had issued many passes. But as now
between Laon and Paris there were three German armies, the refugees had
been turned back and their passes confiscated.

"From among them," said the officer, "we have selected one for you. It
is issued to the wife of Count d'Aurillac, a captain of reserves, and
her aunt, Madame Benet. It asks for those ladies and their chauffeur,
Briand, a safe-conduct through the French military lines. If it gets
you into Paris you will destroy it and assume another name. The Count
d'Aurillac is now with his regiment in that city. If he learned of the
presence there of his wife, he would seek her, and that would not be
good for you. So, if you reach Paris, you will become a Belgian
refugee. You are high-born and rich. Your chateau has been destroyed.
But you have money. You will give liberally to the Red Cross. You
will volunteer to nurse in the hospitals. With your sad story of ill
treatment by us, with your high birth, and your knowledge of nursing,
which you acquired, of course, only as an amateur, you should not find
it difficult to