Ruth, steadying herself, realized that this attack might mean her destruction; but defiant triumph filled her. The airplane which was circling the _schloss_ was one of the allies; the booming clatter of its motor as it returned was completing the panic throughout the _schloss_. A new eruption vibrated the walls, blowing down stones, timbers; the fury of its detonation battered her. The next might bury her in the débris of these walls; but she sang--wildly, tauntingly she sang _The Star-Spangled Banner_. The taunt brought no protest. Throughout the _schloss_ now was silence. She did not believe that all, or, indeed, many of the occupants of the place had been killed. But she knew that all who were alive were hiding in the cellars. The increasing roar of the airplane motor as the machine swept back on its orbit of return struck through her pangs of awe at the possible imminence of her annihilation; but through them she sang, and this time the motor roar rose to its loudest and diminished without the shock of another bomb. One had been dropped, perhaps, and had failed to explode, or the pilot had found himself not quite in the position he had desired. The diminuendo of his motor noise continued only for a few moments, however; it altered to a crescendo, warning of the approach. But now other sounds, closer and within the _schloss_, seized Ruth’s attention. Her name echoing in the stone halls--“Ruth! Ruth Alden! Where are you?” Was she mad? Was this a wild fantasy of her excitement, a result of her long terror? Was this her failure to hold her reason at the approach of fate? It seemed to be not merely her name, but Gerry’s voice. She could not answer, but she could sing--sing _The Star-Spangled Banner_---- And the rocket’s red glare, The bombs bursting in air-- Her voice seemed to guide the voices without. “Ruth! Ruth Alden! Are you all right? We’re here!” “_Gave proof through the night_,” she sang, “_that the flag was still there----_” Now voices--unmistakable voices--answered her; and she cried out to guide them. Gerry called to her, his voice wondrous with triumph and joy. He was there at the door of her cell; another man was with him; a friend. They were working together with a bar to burst the lock; the friend laughed loudly and was not afraid. Gerry did not laugh; he spoke to her again and again, asking about her. She was well? She was unhurt? [Illustration: Gerry was there at the door of her cell; another man was with him; a friend] Now they had the lock broken; the door open. Gerry seized her as she came out; he kissed her; he picked her up and started to carry her, while she cried to him that she was strong and could walk; could run; could do anything now. Anything!