atter part of the scene from the shadows of
the hall, knew that she should never forget Hugo's face as he turned on
Pilzer, while his voice of protest struck a singing chord in her
jangling nerves. It was the voice of civilization, of one who could
think out of the orbit of a whirlpool of passionate barbarism. She could
see that he was about to spring and her prayer went with his leap. She
gloried in the impact that felled the great brute with the liver patch
on his cheek, which was like a birthmark of war.

After the men were gone she regretted that she had not gone to Hugo and
expressed her gratitude. She vaguely wondered if she should see him
again and hoped that she might. The two faces, Hugo's and Pilzer's, in
the instant of Hugo's protest and Pilzer's contempt, were as clear as in
life before her eyes.

Then a staff-officer appeared in the doorway. When he saw a woman enter
the room he frowned. He had ridden from the town, which was empty of
women, a fact that he regarded as a blessing. If she had been a maid
servant he would have kept on his cap. Seeing that she was not, he
removed it and found himself in want of words as their eyes met after
she had made a gesture to the broken glass on the floor and the
lacerated table top, which said too plainly:

"Do you admire your work?"

The fact that he was well groomed and freshly shaven did not in any wise
dissipate in her feminine mind his connection with this destruction. He
had never seen anything like the smile which went with the gesture. Her
eyes were two continuing and challenging flames. Her chin was held high
and steady, and the pallor of exhaustion, with the blackness of her
hair-and eyes, made her strangely commanding. He understood that she was
not waiting for him to speak, but to go.

"I did not know that there was a woman here!" he said.

"And I did not know that officers of the Grays were accustomed to enter
private houses without invitations!" she replied.

"This is a little different," he began.

She interrupted him.

"But the law of the Grays is that homes should be left undisturbed,
isn't it? At least, it is the law of civilization. I believe you
profess, too, to protect property, do you not?"

"Why, yes!" he agreed. He wished that he could get a little respite from
the steady fire of her eyes. It was embarrassing and as confusing as the
white light of an impracticable logic.

"In that case, please place a guard around our house lest some