"Unless what?" asked the officer, turning on him quickly. "What is it you fear?" "Unless she _was_ recognized!" cried Stewart, hoarsely. But the other shook his head. "If she had been recognized--which is most improbable--she would not have been taken prisoner at all. She would have been shot where she lay." And then again that dark stain upon the floor flashed before Stewart's eyes. Perhaps that had really happened. Perhaps that blood was hers! "It is the suspense!" he groaned. "The damnable suspense!" "I know," said the other, gently. "It is always the missing who cause the deepest anguish. One can only wait and hope and pray! That is all that you can do--that and one other thing." "What other thing?" Stewart demanded. "She intrusted you with a mission, did she not?" asked the little captain, gently. "Living or dead, she would be glad to know that you fulfilled it, for it was very dear to her. You still have the letters?" Stewart thrust his hand into his pocket and brought them forth. "You are right," he said, and rose unsteadily. "Where will I find General Joffre?" The other had risen, too, and was supporting him with a strong hand. "That I do not know," he answered; "somewhere along the French frontier, no doubt, mustering his forces." Stewart looked about him uncertainly. "If I were only stronger," he began. "Wait," the little officer broke in. "I think I have it--I am expecting instructions from our headquarters at St. Trond--they should arrive at any moment--and I can send you back in the car which brings them. At headquarters they will be able to tell you something definite, and perhaps to help you." He glanced anxiously toward the east and then cast an appraising eye over the intrenchments his troops had dug. "We can hold them back for a time," he added, "but we need reënforcements badly. Ah, there comes the car!" A powerful gray motor spun down the road from the west, kicking up a great cloud of dust, and in a moment the little captain had received his instructions. He tore the envelope open and read its contents eagerly. Then he turned to his men, his face shining. "The Sixty-third will be here in half an hour!" he shouted. "We will give those fellows a hot dose this time!" His men cheered the news with waving shakos, then, with a glance eastward, fell to work again on their trenches, which would have to be extended to accommodate the reënforcements. Their captain stepped close to the side of the purring car, made his report to an officer who sat beside the driver, and then the two carried on for a moment a low-toned conversation. More than once they glanced at Stewart, and the conversation ended with a sharp nod from the officer in the car. The other came hurrying back. "It is all right," he said. "You will be at St. Trond in half an hour," and he helped him to mount into the tonneau.