She was in plain sight, but at that moment even a bullet from her own countrymen seemed better than what she had fled from so long. She raised both arms above her head and walked straight on toward the edge of the barbed wire, behind which showed the sand-bagged parapet of the trenches. Rifle barrels glinted over the top and a helmeted head popped into sight.
“F-friend!” stammered Lucy, her scared little voice sounding strangely out of the night. “Don’t shoot! I’m an American!”
“It’s a woman—it’s a girl!” cried an astonished voice.
A dozen heads were raised above the trench, a murmur of voices filled the air, and the next instant two soldiers had sprung over the top and were running toward her. The first caught her by the arm and drew her swiftly toward the trenches, saying:
“Through this way—here’s a lane in the wire!”
“But where on earth do you come from?” demanded the second, slipping between her and the distant German lines.
“Just follow on now, as quick as you can!” urged her guide.
Lucy hardly heard them. She knew that she was led safely through the wire, and that strong arms lifted her down inside the American lines.
For a minute she was near to fainting, but the triumph filling her heart cleared her brain and overcame her exhaustion. A light flashed in front of her, and some one held a cup of water to her lips as she sat on the fire-step of the trench and leaned panting against the parapet. A dozen soldiers had crowded around her, expressing every degree of pity, wonder and admiration. The next moment the light revealed a sergeant hurrying along the trench, with an officer following.
“Here she is, Lieutenant,” said the sergeant as they stopped at Lucy’s side.