Late at night the two women slept. Ruth tried to recline in a corner; and repeatedly endeavored to relax in sleep; but each time, just before the dissolution of slumber, she started up stiff and strained. Dawn had not come when the women awoke and the train pulled into Basel. It was still dark when, after the halt at the city, all doors again were opened and everyone ordered to leave the cars. This was the German border. Ruth stepped out with the others and rendered up her luggage. She was aligning herself with the women awaiting the ordeal of the German examination, when Wessels appeared with a porter, who was bearing Ruth’s bags. He passed without halting or speaking to her; but a moment later a German official touched her arm and, pointing her to go on, he escorted her past the doors before which the others were in line for examination. He brought her to the train which was standing on the German side and showed her to an empty compartment, where her luggage lay in the racks. Ruth sat in the compartment watching the people--men and women--as they issued from the depot of examination; they went to different cars of the waiting train; but when anyone attempted to enter the compartment where Ruth sat, a guard forbade until Wessels reappeared, got in, and told the guard to lock the door. Immediately the train started. “Welcome to the Fatherland, _Liebchen_!” said Wessels, drawing close beside Ruth as the car gathered speed and rushed deeper into Germany. CHAPTER XVII: THE ROAD TO LAUENGRATZ Ruth moved from him and to the end of the seat. He laughed and again edged up to her. “Where are we bound?” Ruth asked. “That’s up to you.” “How?” “I send you one place, if you cut up; a more pleasant one, if you do not.” “What are the two places?” “The first I may leave to your heated imagination; the other--it is quite pretty, I assure you. Particularly in the spring, with all nature budding to increase. I own it--in the Schwarzwald, near Biberach. You know the Schwarzwald?” “No,” Ruth said. “Indeed; it is not so far from Losheim.” He put a taunt into his tone--confident, mocking raillery; and Ruth knew that he had discovered her; she recognized that from the very first, probably, he had known about her and that she had never deceived him. Whether he had received information prior to her appearance that she was not to be trusted, or whether she had betrayed herself to him, she could not know; and now it scarcely mattered. The fact was that he was aware that she was not of the Germans and that he had brought her into Germany with power to punish her as might appeal to him. “Then you do not know Lauengratz?” he went on. “No,” Ruth said. “You do not call me Herr Baron now, _Liebchen_,” he reproached, patting her face. Ruth made no reply but the futile movement of slipping to the cushions opposite, where he permitted her to sit alone, contenting himself by leaning back and smirking at her.