In spite of Mr. Becker’s advice to “eat at once,” Gretel did not begin her supper. Indeed, she felt no desire for food of any kind. The smell of the steaming stew, plentifully seasoned with onions, made her so sick that she moved as far as possible from the tray, and sat down on a box in the corner. She was growing more and more frightened every moment. If they kept her there all night she was sure she should die of fright. And yet, strange to say, even at that moment, the idea of securing her liberty by making the required promise never entered her mind. At the end of the stipulated half hour Mrs. Becker returned, but this time she came alone. She glanced at the untouched food, and then at Gretel. “Don’t you like your supper?” she inquired, not without some surprise in her tone. “The stew is good. I made it myself.” “I am not hungry,” said Gretel. “Oh, Mrs. Becker,” she added, eagerly, “can’t you persuade your husband to let me go home? My brother will be so terribly worried.” Mrs. Becker softly closed the door and stood with her back against it. “You ought not to have made Rudolph so angry,” she said in a frightened whisper. “You should have done what he asked. I never disobey him, never.” “But I couldn’t do what he asked,” cried Gretel. “Oh, Mrs. Becker, don’t you see I couldn’t? I am an American.” “Well, what does that matter? Your father was a German; you should be a German, too. Now you have made my husband angry, and Heaven knows what will happen. Rudolph is a great patriot; he is working for the Fatherland. No one suspects, but if you told what he said to you, it would do terrible harm to the cause. Rudolph’s life might be in danger, and his friends’ lives, too. He has two friends in there with him now.” Mrs. Becker opened the door a crack as she spoke, and Gretel caught the sound of men’s voices. They were not talking loud, but their voices sounded excited, and she could even distinguish a few German words she knew. “You hear?” said the woman, and heaved a long sigh. Gretel burst into tears. “Oh, what shall I do? what shall I do?” she sobbed. “No one has any idea where I am. They will never be able to find me. Mrs. Becker, for the love of Heaven, help me to get away.” “It is indeed terrible,” sighed Mrs. Becker, “but it is all your own fault. If you had obeyed my husband, you would have been at home hours ago. I am very sorry, but there is nothing I can do. Rudolph says I may bring in a mattress and a pillow, and in the morning I will bring your breakfast, and some water, so that you may wash.” She was turning to leave the room when Gretel suddenly remembered something. “Oh, Mrs. Becker,” she said, anxiously, “have you heard anything from the hospital yet?” “The hospital,” repeated Mrs. Becker, looking puzzled; “why should I hear from a hospital?” “Why, about Fräulein, of course,” gasped Gretel. “You said they had taken her to the hospital for an operation.”