And then the unexpected happened.  The door opened, and she came in, Schmalz behind her.  He dismissed the sergeant with a word of caution to see that the sentries round the house were vigilant, and followed the man out, leaving Monica and me alone.

The girl stopped the torrent of self-reproach that rose to my lips with a pretty gesture.  She was pale, but she held her head as high as ever.

“Schmalz has given me five minutes alone with you, Des,” she said, “to plead with you for my life, that you may betray your trust.  No, don’t speak ... there is no time to waste in words.  I have a message for you from Francis....  Yes, I have seen him here, this very night....  He says you must contrive at all costs to keep Grundt from going to the shoot at ten o’clock to-morrow, and to detain him with you from ten to twelve.  That is all I know about it....  But Francis has planned something, and you and I have got to trust him.  Now, listen ...  I shall tell Clubfoot I have pleaded with you and that you show signs of weakening.  Say nothing to-night, temporize with him when he comes for his answer in the morning, and then send for him at a quarter to ten, when he will be leaving the house with the others.  The rest I leave to you.  Good night, Des, and cheer up!"...

“But, Monica,” I cried, “what about you?”

She reddened deliciously under her pallor.

“Des,” she replied happily, “we are allies now, we three.  If all goes well, I’m coming with you and Francis!”

With that she was gone.  A few minutes after, a couple of soldiers arrived with Schmalz and took me downstairs to a dark cellar in the basement, where I was locked in for the night.

* * * * *

I was dreaming of the front ... again I sniffed the old familiar smells, the scent of fresh earth, the fetid odour of death; again I heard outside the trench the faint rattle of tools, the low whispers of our wiring party; again I saw the very lights soaring skyward and revealing the desolation of the battlefield in their glare.  Someone was shaking me by the shoulder.  It was my servant come to wake me....  I must have fallen asleep.  Was it stand-to so soon?  I sat up and rubbed my eyes and awoke to the anguish of another day.

The sergeant stood at the cellar door, framed in the bright morning light.

“You are to come upstairs!” he said.

He took me to the billiard-room, where Clubfoot, sleek and washed and shaved, sat at the writing-table in the sunshine, opening letters and sipping coffee.  A clock on a bracket above his head pointed to eight.

“You wish to speak to me, I believe,” he said carelessly, running his eye over a letter in his hand.

“You must give me a little more time, Herr Doktor,” I said.  “I was worn out last night and I could not look at things in their proper light.  If you could spare me a few hours more....”