"Let me help you. My family was Belgian. For many years we have been good and loyal Americans. America means home. But, nevertheless, we inherit obligations toward the country of our origin which, so far, time has not extinguished.... When I became of military age I went to Belgium and served my time in the Belgian army. Then I went--home. My father did it before me. My grandfather before him. My younger brother will do it, God willing. It is our custom to fulfill our obligations," he added with a faint smile, "even when those obligations seem to others a trifle fanciful and old-fashioned." She bent her fair head in silence, considering for a space, her hand resting rather lifelessly in his. And, after a few moments: "But how does all this interfere with our friendship?" she asked innocently. "It does not.... Only I could not let you take those papers to Germany, Karen." "But I've promised." "You promised to do it if it were possible." He lifted her hand to his lips. "But--it has become impossible, Karen." "Another ship may not interfere." "No. But I must--interfere." "You! _Kervyn!_" "Dear--I _must_." "_Betray_ me?" "Karen! Karen! What are you saying?" "If you take my papers away you betray our friendship!" "I have told you that there is a higher obligation than friendship. Even _your_ friendship, Karen." "You--you mean to take my papers from me?" "Yes, dear." "By--by _violence_?" "Karen! Look at me!" She gave him a white, breathless glance, wrenched her hand from his, stooped suddenly, seized the satchel, and, gathering it against her breast, clasped both arms around it. Then she looked him straight in the eyes. "Yes," he said, "that is the only way. You must keep your word to the last and do your best. Only--remember that what I do now has no bearing whatever upon our friendship. I--I care for you--at this moment--more than I ever did. So--forgive me--Karen----" "I never shall! Kervyn! Kervyn--think what you are doing!----" He encircled her with his left arm, and with his right hand he gathered both of her slender wrists in his grasp and held them. The satchel rolled from her knees to the floor. "Kervyn!" she cried, "think what you are doing!" She looked up into his set face where he held her crushed against his shoulder. "I am your friend. Think what you are doing! I--I care--so much--for you!" "And I for you, Karen.... Is that the key around your neck on that blue ribbon?" "You shall not have it. Oh, Kervyn! Kervyn!" she gasped--"what are you doing to our friendship! What are you doing!" [Illustration: "'Kervyn! Kervyn--Think what you are doing!--'"]