With a cry of delight, the girl dropped to her knees beside it, bent far over and drank deep; then threw off her coat, pushed her sleeves above her elbows, and laved hands and face in the cool water. "How fortunate my hair is short!" she said, contemplating her reflection. "Otherwise it would be a perfect tangle. I make a very nice boy, do you not think so?" "An adorable boy!" agreed Stewart, heartily. She glanced up at him. "Thank you! But are you not going to wash?" "Not until you have finished. You are such a radiant beauty, that it would be a sin to miss an instant of you. My clothes are even more becoming to you than your own!" She glanced down over her slender figure, so fine, so delicately rounded, then sprang quickly to her feet and snatched up the coat. "I will reconnoiter our position while you make your toilet," she said, and slipped out of sight among the trees. Ten minutes later, Stewart found her seated on a little knoll at the edge of the wood, looking out across the country. "There is a house over yonder," she said, nodding to where the corner of a gable showed among the trees. "But it may be dangerous to approach it." "We can't starve," he pointed out. "And we seem to be lucky. Suppose I go on ahead?" "No; we will go together," and she sprang to her feet. The way led over a strip of rocky ground, used evidently as a pasture, but there were no cattle grazing on it; then along a narrow lane between low stone walls. Presently they reached the house, which seemed to be the home of a small farmer, for it stood at the back of a yard with stables and sheds grouped about it. The gate was open and there was no sign of life within. Stewart started to enter, but suddenly stopped and looked at his companion. "There is something wrong here," he said, almost in a whisper. "I feel it." "So do I," said the girl, and stared about at the deserted space, shivering slightly. Then she looked upward into the clear sky. "It was as if a cloud had come between me and the sun," she added. "Perhaps it is just that everything seems so deserted," said Stewart, and stepped through the gate. "No doubt the people fled when they saw the Germans," she suggested; "or perhaps it was just a rumor that frightened them away." Stewart looked about him. It was not only people that were missing from this farmyard, he told himself; there should have been pigs in the sty, chickens scratching in the straw, pigeons on the roof, a cat on the door-step. "We must have food," he said, and went forward resolutely to the door, which stood ajar. There was something vaguely sinister in the position of the door, half-open and half-closed, but after an instant's hesitation, he knocked loudly. A minute passed, and another, and there was no response. Nerving himself as though for a mighty effort, he pushed the door open and looked into the room beyond.