ace where it is possible for you to get over. It
is at the Savoie Swamps. It is a wild and deserted place--has always
been. There is a little lake much sought by fishermen in the summers
before the war started. The shores immediately about it are always
marshy. At this season they are inundated."

"Then, how am I to get through?"

"That you will be able to understand better when you are there," said
the officer noncommittally.

"Is it open country?" she asked wonderingly. "Shall we be quite
exposed?"

"Not at night," he returned grimly. "And it is partly forest covered,
that morass. The guns have shattered the forest in places. But most
of the huge shells which drop into the swamp never explode."

"Oh!"

"Yes. They are very, very dangerous--those duds. But they will not be
our only peril in crossing. Have you a brave heart, Mademoiselle?"

"I am going to help Tom Cameron escape," she said firmly.

He bowed and said nothing more until she again spoke.

"I can see that it may be possible for a man to get through that
swamp--or across the lake by boat. But how about me? My dress----"

"I am afraid we shall have to disguise you, Mademoiselle," Major
Marchand said with one of his flashing smiles. "But do not take
thought of it. All will be arranged."

This was comforting, but only to a slight degree. Ruth Fielding was
not a person given to allowing things to take their course. She
usually planned far ahead and "made things come her way."

She stared out rather stonily upon the landscape. Charlie was still
driving at his maddest gait. They passed few houses, and those they
did pass were deserted.

"Your Americans, Mademoiselle," said the major, "have prepared for the
expected German advance with a completeness--yes! They have my
admiration."

"But will the attack come?" she asked doubtfully.

"Surely. As I told you, Mademoiselle, we can thank your young friend,
Lieutenant Cameron, for the warning. Through his advantage with
General Stultz he gained such information. The High Command of the
German Armies has planned this attack upon the first American-held
trenches."

"Oh, what will they do to poor Tom if they are sure he is a spy?"
murmured Ruth, for the moment breaking down.

"We will get there first," was the assurance given her.

"But his sister--Helen---- Think of it, Major Marchand! She has just
arrived at Clair and awaits him there at the hospital. I have not
dared tell