“Yes.”

“This Captain Herts sent three of his own people over the Swiss wire the other evening.  Did you know about it?”

McKay looked worried:  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “Captain Herts proposed some such assistance but I declined.  It wasn’t necessary.  Two on such a job are plenty; half-a-dozen endanger it.”

Recklow shrugged:  “I can’t judge, not knowing details.  Tell me, if you don’t mind; have you been bothered at all so far by Boche agents?”

“Yes,” nodded Evelyn Erith.

“You’ve already had some serious trouble?”

McKay said:  “Our ship was torpedoed off Strathlone Head.  In Scotland a dozen camouflaged Boches caught me napping in spite of being warned.  It was very humiliating, Recklow.”

“You can’t trust a soul on this frontier either,” returned Recklow with emphasis.  “You cannot trust the Swiss on this border.  Over ninety per cent. of them are German-Swiss, speak German exclusively along the Alsatian border.  They are, I think, loyal Swiss, but their origin, propinquity, customs and all their affiliations incline them toward Germany rather than toward France.

“I believe, in the event of a Hun deluge, the Swiss on this border, and in the cantons adjoining, would defend their passes to the last man.  They really are first of all good Swiss.  But,” he shrugged, “don’t trust their friendship for America or for France; that’s all.”

Miss Erith nodded.  McKay said:  “How about the frontier?  I understand both borders are wired now as well as patrolled.  Are the wires electrically charged?”

“No.  There was some talk of doing it on both sides, but the French haven’t and I don’t think the Swiss ever intended to.  You can get over almost anywhere with a short ladder or by digging under.”  He smiled:  “In fact,” he said, “I took the liberty of having a sapling ladder made for you in case you mean to cross to-night.”

“Many thanks.  Yes; we cross to-night.”

“You go by the summit path past the Crucifix on the peak?”

“No, by the neck of woods under the peak.”

“That might be wiser....  One never knows. ...  I’m not quite at ease—­Suppose I go as far as the Crucifix with you—­”

“Thanks, no.  I know the mountain and the neck of woods around the summit.  I shall travel no path to-night.”

There was a silence:  Miss Erith’s lovely face was turned tranquilly toward the flank of Mount Terrible.  Both men looked sideways at her as though thinking the same thing.

Finally Recklow said:  “In the event of trouble—­you understand—­it means merely detention and internment while you are on Swiss territory.  But—­if you leave it and go north—­” He did not say any more.

McKay’s sombre eyes rested on his in grim comprehension of all that Recklow had left unsaid.  Swift and savage as would be the fate of a man caught within German frontiers on any such business as he was now engaged in, the fate of a woman would be unspeakable.