Men were directing the passengers to arrange themselves for presentation of their credentials to the French authorities; and Ruth found Lady Agnes taking her place beside her. The English girl was well known and, after merely formal inquiry and the signing of a few papers, she was passed on. She made a statement for Ruth of the reasons for Ruth’s passport being in bad condition; and she mentioned what she knew about Ruth. The Frenchmen attended politely, but they did not, therefore, take chances. They examined her passport far more carefully than they had Agnes Ertyle’s; but Ruth had so ruined the picture that identification by it was impossible. The sea water also had helped to blur the signature so that her “Cynthia Gail” which they made her sign, and which they compared with the name upon the passport, escaped open challenge. Then there were questions. The man who asked them referred to cards in an index box which, evidently, had come across upon the _Ribot_; for his inquiries referred largely to questions which had been asked Ruth upon the other side. She, fortunately, had had sense enough to have written down for herself the answers which she had given at New York; she had rehearsed them again and again; so now she did not fail to give similar replies. Then there were other inquiries--sudden, startling ones, which gave her consternation; for they seemed based upon some knowledge of the real Cynthia Gail which Ruth did not have. But she had to answer; so she did so as steadily as possible and as intelligently as she could. The examiner gazed more keenly at her now; he halted his examination to confer in whispers with an associate; he made careful notation upon a card. A clerk brought in a cablegram, which the examiner carefully read. Had the body of Cynthia Gail been identified in Chicago? Had her family found out the fraud which Ruth had been playing upon them; or had other discovery been made so that the French knew that she was an impostor? The man looked up from the cablegram. “You have been in France before?” he challenged. Ruth had thought of being asked that question. She had told Gerry Hull at Mrs. Corliss’ that she had been in France--or at least she had let him suppose so when he said that, of course, she had been in Paris. She did not know at all whether Cynthia Gail had or not; but that statement to Gerry Hull--which he might have repeated--committed her. “Not since the war began,” she answered. “Previous to then?” “Yes.” “Upon how many occasions?” “Once,” Ruth said. “When was that?” Ruth had figured out several occasions when Cynthia Gail might have come abroad--if she really ever had done so. “The summer of 1913.” “When did you land?” “Late in June; I don’t recall the exact date.” She fixed June, as she supposed Cynthia Gail would have come during summer vacation. “Where did you land?”