wed her was wholly grim and challenging. Then
something strange occurred. John had the most intense anxiety for her to
look at him. He had no belief whatever in anything supernatural, but
sound, intelligible words were made to travel on waves of air, and it
was barely possible in this unexplored world that thought too might be
propelled in the same way.

Almost unconsciously he kept his eyes upon Julie's and he poured his
very soul into the gaze. It was only a little distance from the door to
the automobile which she was to take, and he had time. His gaze became
concentrated, burning, a thing more of the spirit than of sight, and as
her eyes glanced once more about the circle of idle spectators they met
his own and rested there.

John looked straight into their dark blue depths and he saw a startled
flash leap up. Chance or a power yet unknown had drawn her gaze and made
her vision keen. He saw that she knew him, knew him even in that
peasant's dress and under the new stubble of beard. The flash became for
a moment a fire, and her figure quivered, but he was not afraid. He had
an instinctive confidence that she would understand, and that she would
not betray him by any impulsive act.

"I am here to save you," his eyes said.

"I know it," hers replied.

"I will follow you across the world to help you."

"I know that, too."

"Don't betray the fact that you've seen a friend."

"I will not."

Thus the eyes spoke to one another and understood what was said. Julie's
glance passed on, and with unfaltering step she entered an automobile,
the German chauffeur standing by the side of it and respectfully holding
the door. Suzanne followed, the chauffeur closed the door, sprang into
his seat and the little train moved majestically through the streets of
Metz. Comment was plentiful and it was not unkind to Julie.

"Too handsome to be executed as a spy," said a burly German almost in
John's ear. "A girl with a face like that should never feel the touch of
a bullet or a rope. It's a face to be kissed and a neck to fit into a
man's arm."

The man's phrasing was rough, but both his admiration and his pity were
sincere, and John felt no resentment toward him.

"Some of the French girls are wonderful for looks," said another and
younger German, "but they're the most dangerous kind. If it's proved on
the one the prince has caught she'll expect her blue eyes and all that
hair of gold to pull her through."

Him, John hated a