iers might be hunting for both
of them, while another batch might be minded to follow "Heinrich" and
his fellow-butcher. So he carried her to the stable and laid her on a
truss of straw noted during that first vivid glimpse of the interior.

Then, greatly daring, he milked the cow.

Not only did the poor creature's suffering make an irresistible appeal,
but in relieving her distress he was providing the best of nourishment
for Irene and himself. The cow gave no trouble. Soon the milk was
flowing steadily into the pail. The darkness was abysmal. On one hand
lay a dead woman, on the other an unconscious one, and two dead men
guarded the doorway. Once, in Paris, Dalroy had seen one of the lurid
playlets staged at the Grand Guignol, wherein a woman served a meal for
a friend and chatted cheerfully during its progress, though the body of
her murdered husband was stowed behind a couch and a window-curtain. He
recalled the horrid little tragedy now; but that was make-believe, this
was grim reality.

Yet he had ever an eye for the rectangle of the doorway. When a quality
of grayness sharpened its outlines he knew it was high time to be on the
move. Happily, at that instant, Irene sighed deeply and stirred. Ere she
had any definite sense of her surroundings she was yielding to Dalroy's
earnest appeal, and allowing him to guide her faltering steps. He
carried the pail and the rifle in his left hand. With the right he
gripped the girl's arm, and literally forced her into a walk.

The wood indicated by Maertz was plainly visible now, and close at hand,
and the first rays of daylight gave colour to the landscape. The hour,
as Dalroy ascertained later, was about a quarter to four.

It was vitally essential that they should reach cover within the next
five minutes; but his companion was so manifestly unequal to sustained
effort that he was on the point of carrying her in order to gain the
protection of the first hedgerow when he noticed that a slight
depression in the hillside curved in the direction of the wood. Here,
too, were shrubs and tufts of long grass. Indeed, the shallow trough
proved to be one of the many heads of a ravine. The discovery of a
hidden way at that moment contributed as greatly as any other
circumstance to their escape. They soon learnt that the German
hell-hounds were in full cry on their track.

At the first bend Dalroy called a halt. He told Irene to sit down, and
she obeyed so willingly that, rendered