A German officer entered, a group of soldiers behind him. He saluted with stiff ceremony. "Madame, I regret you must leave this house at once!" His French was painfully correct. She faced him, tense. "And if I refuse?" "Then, madame, you leave me no alternative but to arrest you as a suspect." She cried an inarticulate protest. The dog, hitherto standing by her side as though straining at a leash, sprang forward with an angry growl. The German regarded the menace coolly, without moving a muscle. "Schönes Tier!" he murmured. Then, turning to his men, he ordered: "Secure it, one of you!" Thunderously growling, with a puzzled look at his mistress standing like a statue, the dog suffered a cord to be slipped through its collar. The blood surged into the countess's face. "Monsieur----!" The sense of outrage choked her. "Madame," he interrupted calmly, "I need scarcely remind you that time presses. You will not, I am sure, constrain us to violence." She met his eyes, was confronted with inexorable necessity. Her hands twitched. "You will at least allow me a little time to collect a few clothes and valuables?" "A little time, madame." She ran from the room, hearing as a last sound the dog choking as it struggled on the leash. In the hall was Marie, haggard, her old body shaking with excitement. She clutched at her mistress's arm. "Madame! what is happening?" She lapsed into patois under the stress. The countess replied also, without noticing it, in the language of her childhood. "I am arrested. They are letting me fetch some clothes." The servant suppressed a cry. "Madame!" The old hands trembled upon her. "The colonel!--a note to him--he will come--give it to me!" "But Marie----" They looked deep down into each other's soul. With a sudden movement of decision the countess ran into an adjoining room, scribbled "_They are taking me. P._" on a piece of paper, thrust it into the old woman's hand. "You are sure, Marie?" she asked wildly, seeking condonation for herself. "Chère dame!" was the brief, eloquent reply. The old woman disappeared. The countess ran upstairs to her bedroom, the one word "Delay!--delay!--delay!--delay!" beating in her brain. Down in the salon the officer gave a few curt commands to his men, ordered the dog to be taken into the yard. Left alone, he strolled round the room examining the pictures, the bibelots, opening the drawers of the secretaire. The minutes passed. The house was in deep silence. He began to get impatient, to wonder if some trick----. But he was sure of the vigilance of his men. A quarter of an hour had elapsed when he heard a sharp little burst of fire from the German trenches above. It was not answered. The valley resumed its unwonted quiet. Exasperated at the delay he began to pace up and down the room, looked at his watch, gave his prisoner yet another five minutes.