nough about Herr Tiel!" she exclaimed in a
different voice. "Because we really can get no further. It is like
discussing what is inside a locked box! We can trust his judgment in
this business; I think you will agree to that."

"Oh yes," I said, "I have seen enough to respect his abilities very
thoroughly."

"Then," said she, "let us talk of something more amusing."

"Yourself," I said frankly, though perhaps a little too boldly, for she
did not respond immediately. I felt that I had better proceed more
diplomatically.

"I was wondering whether you were a pure German," I added.

"My feelings towards Germany are as strong as yours, Mr Belke," she
answered. "Indeed I don't think any one can be more loyal to their
country than I am, but I am not purely German by blood. My mother was
Irish, hence my name--Eileen."

"Then that is your real name?" I cried, between surprise and delight.

"Yes, that is the one genuine thing about me," she smiled.

"But if you are half English----"

"Irish," she corrected.

"Ah!" I cried. "I see--of course! I was going to ask whether your
sympathies were not at all divided. But Irish is very different. Then
you hate the English with a double hatred?"

"With one or two exceptions--friends I have made--I abhor the whole
race I am fighting against quite as much as you could possibly wish me
to! Indeed, I wish it were fighting and not merely plotting!"

There was an earnestness and intensity in her voice and a kindling of
her eye as she said this that thrilled and inspired me like a trumpet.

"We shall defeat them--never fear!" I cried. "We shall trample on the
pride of England. It will be hard to do, but I have no doubt as to the
result; have you?"

"None," she said, quietly but with absolute confidence.

Then that quick smile of hers, a little grave but very charming, broke
over her face.

"But let us get away for a little from war," she said. "You aren't
smoking. Please do, if you wish to."

I lit a cigarette, and offered one to her, but she said she did not
smoke. And I liked her all the better. We talked more lightly for a
while, or perhaps I should rather say less earnestly, for our situation
did not lend itself to frivolity. It did lend itself however to
romance,--we two sitting on either side of the peat fire, with a shaded
lamp and the friendly flames throwing odd lights and shadows through
the low, primitive room with its sloping attic-like walls and