But every now and then Ruth felt her courage melting. It seemed so impossible for her to do this great thing she had set out to do. She felt her limitations.

Yet it was not personal fear that troubled her. She would have pressed forward, even had she been obliged to essay the crossing of No Man's Land alone.

At last the jouncing ambulance came to a rocking halt.

"As far as I can take you folks in this old fliver, I guess," drawled Charlie Bragg. "An unhealthy looking place for a picnic."

He twisted around in his seat to look at Ruth. She smiled wanly at him, while the Major got down quickly and offered her his hand.

"Is it all right, Ruth?" Charlie whispered. "I don't _know_ this French chap."

"Don't fear for me, Charlie dear," she returned. "He is Major Henri Marchand. I fancy he is high in the French Army. And I know his mother--a very lovely lady."

"Oh, all right," responded the boy shortly. "One of the family, as you might say? Take care of yourself. Haven't heard from Cameron, have you?"

"That is what I am here for," whispered Ruth. "I hope I shall hear of him soon."

"Well, best o' luck!" said Charlie Bragg, as Ruth followed the major out of the rear of the ambulance.

The evening was falling. They stood at the mouth of a wide gully up which the car could not have traveled. The latter turned in a swirl of dust and pounded back toward the rear. When it was out of sight and the noise of it had died away, there did not seem to be any other sound about them.

"Where are we?" asked Ruth.

"Let us see," returned Major Marchand cheerfully. "I think we shall find somebody up this way."

They walked up the gully some hundreds of yards until they finally came out upon a narrow plain at the top. On this mesa was a ruined dwelling of two stories and some shattered farm buildings.

"Halt!" was the sudden command.

A man in khaki appeared from a clump of trees near the house, advancing his rifle.

"Friends," said the major quietly.

"Advance one friend with the countersign."

Major Marchand stepped ahead of Ruth and whispered something to the sentinel.

"Guess it's all right, Boss," said the sentinel, who evidently had no French. "But you can't proceed in this direction."

"Why not, _mon ami_?"

"New orders. Something doing up front. Wait till my relief comes on in half an hour. Top-sergeant will tell you."

"But we _must_ go forward," urged the major, rather vexed.

"Don't worry," advised the American. "General orders takes the 'must'

out of mustard even, and don't you forget it. If you were a soldier, you'd learn _that_," and he chuckled. "Come on over to the d.y.k.e and sit down--you and the lady," and he favored Ruth with an admiring glance.

The American girl did not speak, and it was evident that the sentinel thought her French like her companion. The three strolled along to the gra.s.sy bank behind the trees and directly before the half-ruined house.

Sh.e.l.l fire had destroyed one end of it. But the other end wall was complete. On the second floor was a window. The lower sash was removed, but in the upper sash there were several small, unbroken panes of gla.s.s.

There was the smell of smoke in the air, and the two newcomers spied a little handful of fire blazing on a rock under the d.y.k.e. Here the sentinel had made his little camp, and it was evident that he had boiled coffee and toasted meat within the hour.

"Great housekeeping," he said, grinning. "When I get back home I guess my mother'll make me do all the kitchen work. Ain't war what General Sherman said it was--and then some?"

"But we wish to hurry on, Monsieur," said the major quietly.

"Nothing doing!" responded the sentinel. "I got particular orders not to let anybody pa.s.s--not even with the word. Just stick around a little while, you and the lady. Toppy'll be along soon."

Ruth wondered that the French officer did not reveal his ident.i.ty. But she remained silent herself, knowing that Major Marchand must have good reason for not wishing his rank known.

"We got to watch this old ranch," continued the talkative sentinel, nodding toward the half-ruined dwelling. "Somebody thinks there's something besides cooties in it. Yep," as the major started and looked at him questioningly. "Spies. Those Dutchmen are mighty smart, they do say. I'm told they flash signals from that window up yonder clear across the swamps to the German lines. Now, when it gets dark----"

He nodded and pursed his lips. The major nodded in return. Ruth remained silent, but she was becoming nervous. While they were in action and going forward the suspense was not so hard to bear. But now she began to wonder how she was ever going to cross that mora.s.s the major had told her about. And half a hundred other difficulties paraded through her troubled mind.

They sat upon the bank, and waited. The sentinel continued to march up and down just the other side of the fire, occasionally throwing a remark at the major, but usually with his face turned toward the house, which was distant about five furlongs.

Suddenly Ruth observed that Major Marchand had in his palm a little round mirror. He seemed to be manipulating it to catch the firelight.

Ruth saw in a moment what he was about.

The sentinel stopped in his beat with a smothered exclamation. His back was to them and he was staring up at the open window of the house.

There came a flash of light from the window--another! Like lightning the sentinel raised his rifle and fired pointblank into the opening on the second floor.

Then, with a shout, he dashed across the intervening s.p.a.ce and disappeared within the house. Major Marchand seized Ruth's hand and rose to his feet.

CHAPTER XXI

A NIGHT TO BE REMEMBERED

"Come!" the French officer whispered. "Now is our chance."

"Oh!" Ruth murmured, scarcely understanding.

"Haste! He will be back in a minute," the officer said.

He helped her over the d.y.k.e, and, stooping, they ran away from the abandoned house from which the puzzled American sentinel thought he had seen a spy flashing a light signal to the enemy lines.

"Fortunately, I had a little mirror," murmured Major Marchand, as he and the girl hurried on through the dusk. "With it, you see, I flashed a reflection of the firelight upon the broken panes of that upper window. Our brave young American will discover his mistake before his relief comes. We could not wait for that. Nor could we easily explain to his top-sergeant why we wished to go forward."

"Oh!" murmured Ruth again. "In your work, Monsieur, I see you have to take chances with both sides."

"It is true. Our own friends must not suspect too much about us. The best spy, Mademoiselle, plays a lone hand. Come! This way. We must dodge these other sentinels."

It was evident that he knew the vicinity well. Beyond the mesa they descended through a grove of big trees, whose tops had been shot off by the German guns.