At General Gordon’s that evening there was so much to be talked over that the general sent word to Badheim hospital that he would keep Bob and Lucy overnight. Larry and Major Harding were there, sharing the late supper that Lucy and Elizabeth prepared. Elizabeth was hard at work as ever, with only her pale face and anxious eyes to betray that she was other than her quiet, steady self. When her pleading, troubled glance encountered that of the Americans her eyelids dropped hurriedly, as though dreading the hard words and reproaches so far delayed.

But not even General Gordon himself spoke to her in another tone or treated her otherwise than before the afternoon’s adventure, and, little by little, her hands ceased to tremble, her glance to avoid other eyes, and, as she worked on in humble sadness, she drew a low grateful sigh. Not one of those present but by their kind, natural behavior tried to show her that she was not held responsible for the conspiracy into which her misguided, affectionate heart had so nearly led her. Bob and Lucy spoke to her with all their old friendliness, ignoring in her presence what occupied all their thoughts, and unhappy Elizabeth warmed from her frightened aloofness, and found fresh hope and courage in their generosity.

When she had left them, and General Gordon, Lucy, Bob, Larry and Major Harding were gathered around a blazing fire, Major Harding tried to answer the questions that Lucy, most eager of the four, began to press upon him.

“There’s a lot that I don’t understand,” she said. “I know that Herr Johann, I mean von Eckhardt, plotted with Franz to smuggle ammunition to the rebels. But could those few boat-loads do much harm?”

“Franz’ little share in it, don’t you see, Lucy, is only a tiny part of von Eckhardt’s organization.” Major Harding stared into the fire as he spoke, his voice still ringing with earnestness. “Von Eckhardt is a good organizer, and he knew that not much is needed to turn the tide in Germany to-day. But he made the mistake—like a true German—of thinking too poorly of his opponents. Because he is clever he took us for fools.”

“How much did you know, Dick, when Bob wrote you?” asked General Gordon. “I blame myself, Bob, for not listening to you sooner, but I had such endless work on hand.”

“We were suspicious, but no more,” said Major Harding. “We wondered where the Spartacans got their stuff. The Berlin riots were spreading to other places. The leaflet Bob sent me was a big help.”

“The one Lucy found in the forest,” put in Bob.

“That told us where to look,” Major Harding continued. “If you remember, it ran something like this:

Farmer So-and-so of such a place ... 26.

“There was a whole list of them. We discovered, by bribing or threatening some of the fellows named in the list, that the numbers stood for cart or boat loads of arms or munitions shipped within the month. By those numbers it was plain that the plot had already grown rather sizable.”

“The lodge in the forest was where he met his agents and gave his orders,” said Bob. “Who is von Eckhardt, anyway?”

“He is the real leader of the movement, though not the only one. He stayed around here to engineer the most dangerous part of the program. In spite of the American occupation he had to work where the stuff was hidden.”

“And he might very well have pulled it off, if we hadn’t had so much spare time to watch him,” remarked Bob.

“And if you hadn’t had your theories,” said Larry.

“Von Eckhardt was a colonel of artillery during the war,” went on Major Harding. “He has a record for harsh pride, but also for courage. He saw his hopes crushed with the Kaiser’s fall, and welcomed a rebellion that would open the way for a counter-revolution. He was too absorbed in that idea to foresee the appalling results of turning Bolshevism loose in Germany.”

“I wonder why he picked out such a stupid dolt as Franz. It was he who gave away the show,” said Larry.

“Because Franz had been his servant and he knew he would obey,” said Lucy. “Franz had to leave Alsace and was so poor he had no choice.”

“That’s it,” Bob nodded. “Trudchen told me the same thing. Franz isn’t bold. He would never have chosen to enter on such a risky business.”

“I’m so sorry for the children,” said Lucy sadly. “What can Trudchen do now? I don’t think they got much money from Herr Johann. They seem awfully poor.”

“No, I dare say it was mostly promises,” said Bob. “He had to give Karl money, though, to keep him faithful. He made a pilot of him and used him to keep track of things along the Rhine. Karl told me something of it when I talked with him an hour ago.”

“And poor Elizabeth was to be his excuse for coming here,” said Lucy.

“Yes, Elizabeth could always explain that he had come here to see her, and they knew that Father and I would believe her.”

“But I wonder how Franz went about it. He can’t act a part, and Elizabeth is sharp enough,” reflected Larry.

“Von Eckhardt put him up to it, of course. And I suppose Elizabeth was so pleased at the idea of seeing Karl and making up the quarrel that she was blind to the rest.”

Lucy’s eyes flashed with indignation. “And he pretended to be friendly. Oh, now I hope she sees what he’s worth!”

“Throw some wood on the fire, Bob,” said General Gordon, relighting his pipe. “How long are you going to be with us, Dick?”

“Not long, sir. I must get away as soon as I can.”

“I know someone else who ought to get away from here,” remarked the general, glancing at his daughter, who sat with hands clasped behind her head, her cheeks still pink from the day’s excitement, her fair hair ruffled where the firelight shone upon it.

“I, Father? What do you mean?” Lucy asked surprised.

“I mean that I want you to spend at least a few weeks this spring with the Leslies in England. Bob ought to go, too. You both need a change, and in Surrey you’ll find the quiet that seems to elude you this side of the Channel. Your mother will soon be here to look after me. I’m going to get you both off.”

“Hooray!” exclaimed Larry, instantly warming to the idea. “You’re right, General, the sooner they get off, the better. Do them lots of good. I go to England myself next month.”

“Disinterested advice, Eaton,” said Major Harding, laughing.

“Well, it would be no end of fun being there together,” declared Larry undisturbed. “And Alan Leslie invited me to his house—nice chap, Alan.”

“If I could persuade Michelle to go, too,” murmured Lucy thoughtfully.

“Go to bed, daughter,” said General Gordon, seeing Lucy’s eyelids droop before the dancing flames. “And dream of a trip to England, not of Bolshies and German sly-boots.”

“It’s Franz’ children I’ve got to worry about now,” said Lucy, getting up. “Major Dick, it’s nice to see you,” she added, shaking hands with her old friend. “I didn’t have time to tell you so this afternoon.”

“I’m glad to hear it now,” said Major Harding, smiling. When Lucy had gone out he added thoughtfully, “General, do you know, they don’t make many like that girl of yours?”

“Not two in the world,” said Larry to the fire.

Franz was held in Coblenz for trial, along with Karl and von Eckhardt, and Lucy took her first chance, after returning to the hospital, to visit the cottage in the clearing. Michelle went with her, and there was so much to talk about that they were half an hour sauntering through the forest before they reached the spring.

Michelle listened to Lucy in silence, her eyes shining, her cheeks flushing red. “Oh, le vilain Boche!” she cried at last, and her voice shook with the ardor of her feelings as she pressed her hands together, vainly trying to control her excitement. “It seems not true, Lucy, that Herr Johann, von Eckhardt—whatever he is called—should have sought to destroy his own country!”

“He didn’t think of it that way,” said Lucy, meditatively. “He was so crazy to restore the old government that a Bolshevik revolution seemed to him as good a way as any. That is what Bob and Major Harding told me. When the Bolsheviki began to be dangerous von Eckhardt and his friends planned to tell everyone that to save the country they must call back von Hindenberg, Ludendorf and the rest. It might have worked.”

“Yes, it might. We might have had more war.” Michelle was still hot and trembling. Once more Lucy realized what the past four years had meant to her, and how horrible beyond words was the thought that the war might be prolonged.

“Don’t think about it, Michelle—there’s no danger now,” she said with happy confidence.

Lucy herself, now the plot was unearthed and brought to nothing, felt no more than a moderate resentment against von Eckhardt and his associates. They were crushed and the danger past. Like Alan, she did not want even to think of Germans or Bolsheviki. In her overwhelming relief a great peace entered her soul, and for the first time she yielded to all the quiet charm of the forest, ready, as Larry was, to take exile cheerfully and look ahead to better things.

“Let’s not bother about it, Michelle, now it’s over,” she urged, putting one arm about her friend’s shoulders and giving her a quick hug. “It’s only Trudchen and the children we have to think of.”

“I know, of course,” agreed Michelle, but her vivid imagination still held the frightened shadows in her eyes. “It is that I saw it again, Lucy, the war once more begun! Armand in the worst danger—Maman and I driven from home—the Germans coming on and on and France nearly beaten. Oh, Lucy, those are things that even with many years I never can forget!”

Lucy was silent, but as she watched Michelle’s flaming cheeks and darkened eyes she thought, “I’ll writ............