e prayed. You saw me weep. That is
ended--so much. Now--" and across her eyes shot a blue gleam, "--now I am
ready to listen to _you_! In the cart--out on the road there--you said
that anybody can weep, but that few dare avenge."

"Yes," he drawled, "I said that."

"Very well, then; tell me _how_!"

"What do _you_ want to avenge? Your friend?"

"His country's honour, and mine! If he had been slain--otherwise--I should
have perhaps mourned him, confident in the law of France. But--I have seen
the Rhenish swine on French soil--I saw the Boches do this thing in
France. It is not merely my friend I desire to avenge; it is the triple
crime against his life, against the honour of his country and of mine."
She had not raised her voice; had not stirred in her chair.

The airman, who had stopped eating, sat with fork in hand, listening,
regarding her intently.

"Yes," he said, resuming his meal, "I understand quite well what you mean.
Some such philosophy sent my elder brother and me over here from New
York--the wild hogs trampling through Belgium--the ferocious herds from
the Rhine defacing, defiling, rending, obliterating all that civilized man
has reverenced for centuries.... That's the idea--the world-wide menace of
these unclean hordes--and the murderous filth of them!... They got my
brother."

He shrugged, realizing that his face had flushed with the heat of inner
fires.

"Coolness does it," he added, almost apologetically, "--method and
coolness. The world must keep its head clear: yellow fever and smallpox
have been nearly stamped out; the Hun can be eliminated--with intelligence
and clear thinking.... And I'm only an American airman who has been shot
down like a winged heron whose comrades have lingered a little to comfort
him and have gone on.... Yes, but a winged heron can still stab, little
mistress of the bells.... And every blow counts.... Listen
attentively--for Jack's sake ... and for the sake of France. For I am
going to explain to you how you can strike--if you want to."

"I am listening," said Maryette serenely.

"We may not live through it. Even my orders do not send me to do this
thing; they merely permit it. Are you contented to go with me?"

She nodded, the shadow of a smile on her lips.

"Very well. You play the carillon?"

"Yes."

"You can play 'La Brabanconne'?"

"Yes."

"On the bells?"

"Yes."

He rose, went around the table, carrying his chair with him, and seated
himself besi