Captain de la Tour sprang to his feet, his body alert and his blue eyes flashing. Michelle, seizing his hand, with ashy cheeks and quivering lips, entreated him, “Hide, Armand! Come quickly—in my room!” The young Frenchman gave a quick shake of the head. “If they suspect me all concealment is useless. You forget I am well disguised. Do as I say and nothing more. Go down, Michelle, and do not deny a German soldier is here.” He listened intently as Michelle silently obeyed him. His mother, white and motionless, waited likewise for signs of what was taking place below. Clemence had admitted some one, and now they heard her voice protesting, and a man’s voice, short and surly, in reply. Then Michelle interposed, calm and conciliating. Steps crossed the floor of the hall toward the stairway. There was no time for any plan, Lucy thought wildly. But in the moment that Clemence preceded the intruder up the stairs, Captain de la Tour had drawn from his gray tunic a note-book and pencil, and, standing by his mother’s bedside, began jotting down notes with a steady hand. Clemence, red-faced and terrified, ran into the room, her hands wound frenziedly about her apron. After her came the German sentry, a frown on his heavy face and curiosity lighting up his eyes. At sight of the occupants of the room he made the suggestion of a bow, but he offered no apology for his intrusion as, fingering his gun, he stared at Armand’s tall, commanding figure. [Illustration: “WHAT’S YOUR BUSINESS HERE?”] “Hello, mate,” said Armand in German, looking quietly up from his note-book, as Michelle followed the soldier into the room. Lucy could not restrain a gasp of amazement at the scene before her. She knew Michelle’s wonderful self-control, and did not so much marvel at her hastily assumed look of angry annoyance, unmixed with the least sign of her mortal anxiety. But to see delicate little Madame de la Tour lying back on her pillows with an expression of cold exasperation, her eyes, glancing from Armand to the sentry, saying plainly that one German soldier had been quite enough without another forcing himself upon her, was such a wonderful change from her helpless terror of a moment past that Lucy could hardly believe her eyes. Even the German sentry looked uncomfortable before the little French lady’s calm and silent dignity. He shuffled his feet awkwardly as he answered, with a nod at Armand: “Hello! You a stranger? What’s your business here?” “Because I’m a stranger to you doesn’t mean I’m one to the whole town,” returned Armand, with a twitch at the corner of his mouth, as though hiding a smile at his own wit. Then, in a more friendly tone, he added, “However, I’ve no objection to telling you my business. I’m detailed from the third regiment up the line to help here in the supply depot. They’re making a new list of the population. The food’s not holding out.”