t. Farther along the line there
was a bombardment going on. She knew now what a bombardment meant and
her brows contracted. Somewhere there in the trenches men were enduring
that, while Henri--

She said a little additional prayer that night, which was that she
should have courage to say to him what she felt--that there were big
things to do, and that it should not all be left to these smiling,
ill-clad peasant soldiers.

At that moment Henri, in his gray-green uniform, was cutting wire before
a German trench, one of a party of German soldiers, who could not know
in the darkness that there had been a strange addition to their group.
Cutting wire and learning many things which it was well that he should
know.

Now and then, in perfect German, he whispered a question. Always he
received a reply. And stowed it away in his tenacious memory for those
it most concerned.

At daylight he was asleep by Sara Lee's kitchen fire. And at daylight
Sara Lee was awakened by much firing, and putting on a dressing gown she
went out to see what was happening. Rene was in the street looking
toward the poplar trees.

"An attack," he said briefly.

"You mean--the Germans?"

"Yes, mademoiselle."

She went back into the little ruined house, heavy-hearted. She knew now
what it meant, an attack. That night there would be ambulances in the
street, and word would come up that certain men were gone--would never
seek warmth and shelter in her kitchen or beg like children for a second
bowl of soup.

On the kitchen floor by the dying fire Henri lay asleep.

XIII

Much has been said of the work of spies--said and written. Here is a
woman in Paris sending forbidden messages on a marked coin. Men are
tapped on the shoulder by a civil gentleman in a sack suit, and walk
away with him, never to be seen again.

But of one sort of spy nothing has been written and but little is known.
Yet by him are battles won or lost. On the intelligence he brings
attacks are prepared for and counter-attacks launched. It is not always
the airman, in these days of camouflage, who brings word of ammunition
trains or of new batteries.

In the early days of the war the work of the secret service at the Front
was of the gravest importance. There were fewer air machines, and
observation from the air was a new science. Also trench systems were
incomplete. Between them, known to a few, were breaks of solid land,
guarded from behind. To one who knew, it was