"On a serious charge?" "Yes." "Have you any idea what that charge may be?" he asked, studying her face. "I haven't any idea," she said; "have you?" "I don't know; perhaps I have. Is your maid German?" "Yes." "You brought her with you from Germany?" "Yes." "Where did you get her?" "General von Reiter's housekeeper found her for me." He hesitated, still looking steadily into those violet blue eyes of hers which seemed to question him so candidly. No, there could be no dishonesty there. "Miss Girard," he said, "I find that I am going to be very much more frank with you than there once seemed any occasion for being. I am also going to say something to you that may possibly offend you. But I can't help it. It is this: Have you, through your letters to or from your father, imparted or received any military intelligence which might be detrimental to Great Britain or to her allies?" "Do you mean am I a sort of spy?" she asked, flushing to the roots of her hair. "In substance it amounts to that. And I shall have to ask you to answer me. And I'll tell you why I ask. I didn't intend to tell you; my personal and private affairs did not concern you. But they do now. And these happen to be the facts in my case: I was taken prisoner in Belgium by the cavalry forming the advance of your father's command. It happened four days ago; I was sentenced to military execution, led out for that purpose, reprieved by your father himself on condition that I undertake to find you and conduct you safely to Trois Fontaines near the Grand Duchy of Luxembourg. "If I am unsuccessful in the undertaking, I am pledged to go back voluntarily and face a firing squad. If I am successful I am permitted to go free, and so are my fellow-hostages. And the little town where I was arrested is to be spared." He passed one hand over his eyes, thoughtfully, then, looking at her very seriously: "There seemed to be no reason why an honorable man might not accept such terms. I accepted them. But--things have happened here which I neither understand nor like. And I've got to say this to you; if my taking you back to your father means any detriment to England or to the cause England represents--in other words, if your returning to him means the imparting to him of any military information gathered here by you, then--I won't take you back; that's all!" After a moment, half to herself, she said: "He really thinks me a spy. I knew it!" "I _don't_ think so. I am merely asking you!" he retorted impatiently. "There is something dead wrong here. I was intending to go to the War Office to tell them there very frankly about my predicament, and to ask permission to take you back in order to save my fellow-hostages, the village, and my own life; and now a man named Grätz of whom I know nothing calls me on the telephone and warns me not to go to the War Office but to get you out of England as soon as I can do it.