“You have seen her before, then,” murmured Ruth.
“Twice. There! Look at her mustache, will you? She looks like a grenadier.”
The woman at the gate was a tall, square-shouldered woman, with a hard, lined and almost masculine countenance. She stared with gloomy look as the Red Cross ambulance rolled by. Ruth caught Charlie’s arm convulsively.
“Oh! what was that?” she again whispered, looking back at the woman in the gateway.
“What was what?” he asked.
“That—something white—behind her—inside the gate! Why, Mr. Bragg! was it a dog?”
“The werwolf,” chuckled the young chauffeur.
CHAPTER XVIII—SHOCKING NEWS
From both Helen and Jennie letters reached the girl of the Red Mill quite frequently. Ruth saw that always her correspondence was opened and read by the censor; but that was the fate of all letters that came to Clair.
“We innocents,” said the matron of the hospital, “are thus afflicted because of the plague of spies—a veritable Egyptian plague!—that infests this part of my country. Do not be troubled, Mam’zelle Americaine. You are not singled out as though your friendliness to France was questioned.