“I thank you!” Ruth whispered back, feeling for her papers. “Where are we?” “This is part of the estate of Graf von Weddingen, Mademoiselle. We are very close to the Rhine. You are----” he coughed and altered his question before completing it. “It may be in my power to aid you, Mademoiselle?” “I am an American,” Ruth said. “Yes, Mademoiselle.” “I have been trying to reach Alsace and the French and American lines.” “You have done well so far, Mademoiselle,” Fayal said respectfully. “How do you know?” “I know that at noon yesterday, Mademoiselle, you were twenty kilometers away. The whole countryside has been warned to find you; but you have come these twenty kilometers in spite of them.” He coughed and checked himself, a little guiltily, as she startled. “That is, Mademoiselle, if you are that American lady who had accompanied Hauptmann von Forstner.” “I am that one,” Ruth admitted. “Then, Mademoiselle, come immediately with me! No moment is to be lost!” He went to the door of the shed and gazed cautiously about. Ruth arose and began brushing the straw from herself; sleep had restored her nerves, but not her strength, she found. She swayed when she stepped. She was completely at the mercy of this man, as she must have been in the power of whoever found her. But she did not distrust Fayal. His emaciation, his cough, and, more than those, his manner--the manner of a man who had been suffering indignities without letting himself become servile; and together with that, his concern and respect for a woman--seemed to Ruth beyond counterfeit. “You require food, of course, Mademoiselle!” Fayal exclaimed in dismay. “And I have none!” “I can follow you,” Ruth assured. “Then now, Mademoiselle!” He stepped from the shed, and, motioning to her to imitate him, he slipped into the trees to the right. Evidently he considered her danger great; the peril to him, if caught aiding one who was attempting escape, must be as positive as her own; but the Frenchman was disregardful of that. He gained a gully, and, returning, aided her in descending. Someone approached. “Lie flat!” Fayal whispered. She obeyed; and, while she lay, she heard German voices shouting and the sounds of search. When they had moved far away, Fayal led her to a dugout entrance, concealed by brush and with last year’s leaves scattered before it. “Keep well back in there, Mademoiselle; until I come again for you!” She went into a low and dark but fairly dry cavern under the hillside. She heard Fayal tossing about leaves to hide the entrance as before. Soon he was gone. Many times during the day Ruth heard people passing through the woods. Once she was sure that a group of men were engaged in a search; but they failed to find the cavern. Only late in the afternoon someone, who stepped quickly and lightly--a child or a slight, active woman--ran close past the brush before the entrance, and, without halting, tossed a bundle into the bush.