There was a quick word spoken ahead and the clatter of arms. Major Marchand shrilled a whisper in reply.
"Come, my boy," he said aloud, turning to Ruth. "We must step out lively. It is nearing ten o'clock."
"So you take a friend to-night, do you, Major?" asked a good American voice—that of the officer in command of the listening post.
"Aye," was the reply. "A boy to help me bring home the fish I may catch."
There was a little laugh. Ruth felt herself in a tremor. She knew instinctively that it would never do for her sex to be discovered.
She was not discovered, however. They stood upon the surface. Major Marchand took her hand and led her quietly away. The earth about them looked gray; but the blackness of night wrapped them around. There was not a light to be seen.
She realized more by the sense of locality she possessed than by aught else that they were on the lowland far beyond that ridge through which they had first tunneled after Sergeant Tremp had joined them.
Her eyes grew accustomed to the darkness as they stumbled on. Below them and ahead, she occasionally caught the glint of water. It was a pool of considerable size. She believed it must be the small lake Major Marchand had spoken of.
Suddenly Ruth seized her companion's arm.
"There!" she whispered.