“Yes?”
“It was often seen racing through the country by night,” the girl declared earnestly. “They say it comes from the chateau, and goes back to it. But that the lovely countess is a wicked one, and changes herself into a devouring wolf—ah, no, no, Mademoiselle! It is impossible!
“The werwolf comes and goes across the battle front, it is said. Indeed, it used to cross the old frontier into Germany in pre-war times. Why may not some wicked German woman change herself into a wolf and course the woods and fields at night? Why lay such a thing to the good Countess Marchand?”
Ruth saw that the girl was very much in earnest, and she cast no further doubt upon the occupant of the chateau, the towers of which had been in sight in the twilight for some few minutes. Henriette was now driving slowly and had not recovered from her fright. They came to a road which turned up the hill.
“Where does that track lead?” Ruth asked quickly.
“Past the gates of the chateau, Mademoiselle.”
“You say you will take me to the hospital at Clair before going home,” Ruth urged. “Can we not take this turn?”
“But surely,” agreed Henriette, and steered the car into the narrow and well-kept lane.
Ruth made no explanation for her request. But she felt sure that the object which had startled them both, dog or whatever it was, had dived into this lane to disappear so quickly. The “werwolf” was going toward the chateau on this evening instead of away from it.
There was close connection between the two criminals, who had come from America on the Red Cross steamship, Legrand and José, with whatever was going on between the Chateau Marchand and the Germans. Werwolf, or despatch dog, Ruth was confident that the creature that ran by night across the shell-racked fields was trained to spy work.