Ruth sank down upon the ground in a warm, sunny spot where the trees were more scant than they had been below. They were dense enough, however, to shield her from sight of anyone in the valley, while they permitted a view down the mountainside. Off to the west she could see a stretch of railroad; nearer she got a glimpse of a highway; she saw horsemen and several slower specks, which must be men on foot. Oberst-Lieutenant von Fallenbosch had arrived, Ruth believed, and Adler had started the pursuit after her. But as she thought of the maze of pathways through the forest she believed that she was safe for a while--unless a large number of the prisoners joined in the search and if Adler did not use dogs to track her. But she could not make herself safer by farther aimless flight. Here seemed to be as secure a spot as she might find for the examination of the documents which she had procured; here was the place to plan. She laid out upon a rock the pages of von Forstner’s report, and, placing the stencils, she studied them in series of three, as she had seen Adler do. These pages--those which Adler had read, together with those which she had kept concealed--told a plain, certain story. The Germans at the present moment were concerning themselves with the minutest details of events before the Reims-Soissons line of the allies; other sectors, in comparison, were disregarded; before Reims and Soissons the enemy were maturing their great attack! Ruth, having read, gathered together the pages and sat in the sun gazing away over the Rhine to the west. The feeling of fate--the touch of destiny--which had exalted and transformed her upon that cold January morning in Chicago quickened her again. Something beyond herself originally had sent her into this tremendous adventure, throughout which she had followed instinct--chance--fate--whatever you called it--rather than any conscious scheme. At the outset she had responded simply to impulse to serve; to get into Germany--how, she did not know; to do there--what, she had not known. At different times she had formed plans, of course, many plans; but as she thought back upon them now they seemed to her to have contemplated only details, as though she had recognized her incapacity, by conscious plan, to attain this consummation. For she realized that this was consummation. This which she already had gained, and gained through acts and chances which she could not have foreseen, was all--indeed, more than all--she could have hoped to obtain through the vague, delayed ordeals which her fancy had formed for her. She had nothing more to attempt here in the enemy’s land than escape and return to the allied lines; she had no right, indeed, to attempt more; for anything additional which she could gain would be of such slight value, in comparison with what she now had, that it could not justify her in heaping hazard upon the risks which she must run in returning to the allied armies with the knowledge she possessed.