She lowered her eyes instantly, but she could not restrain the dimple. Luckily, in the shadow, Stewart did not see it. "We must make my clothing into a bundle," she said, sedately. "I may need it again. Besides, these people must not suspect that I have gone away disguised like this. That will give us a great advantage. Yes, gather up the hair and we will take it too--it would betray us. Put the cigars in your pocket. I will take the pipe and tobacco." "Do you expect to smoke? I warn you that that pipe is a seasoned one!" "I may risk a puff or two. I have been told there is no passport like a pipe of tobacco. No--do not shut the bags. Leave them open as though we had fled hurriedly. And," she added, crimsoning a little, "I think it would be well to disarrange the bed." Stewart flung back the covers and rolled upon it, while his companion cast a last look about the room. Then she picked up her little bag and took out the purse and the two letters. "Which pocket of a man's clothes is safest?" she asked. "The inside coat pocket. There are two inside pockets in the coat you have on. One of them has a flap which buttons down. Nothing could get out of it." She took the coins from the purse, dropped them into the pocket, and replaced the purse in the bag. Then she started to place the letters in the pocket, but hesitated, looking at him searchingly, her lips compressed. "My friend," she said, coming suddenly close to him and speaking in the merest breath, "I am going to trust you with a great secret. The information I carry is in these letters--apparently so innocent. If anything should happen to me----" "Nothing is going to happen to you," broke in Stewart, roughly. "That is what I am for!" "I know--and yet something may. If anything should, promise me that you will take these letters from my pocket, and by every means in your power, seek to place them in the hands of General Joffre." "General Joffre?" repeated Stewart. "Who is he?" "He is the French commander-in-chief." "But what chance would I have of reaching him? I should merely be laughed at if I asked to see him!" "Not if you asked in the right way," and again she hesitated. Then she pressed still closer. "Listen--I have no right to tell you what I am about to tell you, and yet I must. Do you remember at Aix, I looked at you like this?" and she caught her lower lip for an instant between the thumb and little finger of her left hand. "Yes, I remember; and you burst into tears immediately afterward." "That was because you did not understand. If, in answer, you had passed your left hand across your eyes, I should have said, in French, 'Have we not met before?' and if you had replied, 'In Berlin, on the twenty-second,' I should have known that you were one of ours. Those passwords will take you to General Joffre himself." "Let us repeat them," Stewart suggested. In a moment he knew them thoroughly. "And _that's_ all right!" he said. "You consent, then?" she asked, eagerly.