de her. She inclined her pale, pretty head; he placed his lips
close to her ear, speaking very slowly and distinctly, explaining his plan
in every minute detail.

While he was still speaking in a whisper, the street outside filled with
the trample of arriving cavalry. The Spahis were leaving the environs of
Sainte Lesse; _chasseurs a cheval_ followed from still farther afield,
escorting ambulances from the Nivelle hospitals now being abandoned.

"The trenches at Nivelle are being emptied," said the airman.

"And do you mean that you and I are to go there, to Nivelle?" she asked.

"That is exactly what I mean. In an hour I shall be in the Nivelle belfry.
Will you be there with me?"

"Yes."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "You can play 'La Brabanconne' on the bells
while I blow hell out of them in the redoubt below us!"

The infantry from the Nivelle trenches began to pass. There were a few
wagons, a battery of seventy-fives, a soup kitchen or two and a long
column of mules from Fontanes.

Two American muleteers knocked at the inn door and came stamping into the
hallway, asking for a loaf and a bottle of red wine. Maryette rose from
the table to find provisions; the airman got up also, saying in English:

"Where do you come from, boys?"

"From Fontanes corral," they replied, surprised to hear their own tongue
spoken.

"Do you know Jack Burley, one of your people?"

"Sure. He's just been winged bad."

"The Huns done him up something fierce," added the other.

"Very bad?"

Maryette came back with a loaf and two bottles.

"I seen him at Fontanes," replied the muleteer, taking the provisions from
the girl. "He's all shot to pieces, but they say he'll pull through."

The airman turned to Maryette:

"Jack will get well," he translated bluntly.

The girl, who had just refused the money offered by the American muleteer,
turned sharply, became deadly white for a second, then her face flamed
with a hot and splendid colour.

One of the muleteers said:

"Is this here his girl?"

"Yes," nodded the airman.

The muleteer became voluble, patting Maryette on one arm and then on the
other:

"J'ai vue Jack Burley, mamzelle, toot a l'heure! Il est bien, savvy voo!
Il est tray, tray bien! Bocoo de trou! N'importe! Il va tray bien! Savvy
voo? Jack Burley, l'ami de voo! Comprenny? On va le guerir toot sweet!
Wee! Wee! Wee!----"

The girl flung her arms around the amazed muleteer's neck and kissed him
impetuously on