“I had to come, to learn that you were safe,” he said unsteadily.
Lucy’s heart had given one leap, and now it began racing furiously, as her paralyzing fright changed to different emotions. Fear for Michelle’s brother, in the deadly peril in which he had placed himself, and a thrill of admiration at his daring exploit, were mingled with the wild delight of knowing that Captain Beattie’s paper was safely in her pocket ready to be confided to the Frenchman’s keeping.
While these thoughts chased each other through her mind, Michelle turned from her brother, with blue eyes shining in her white, frightened face, to say tremblingly in English, “Oh, Lucy, it is Armand! My friend, cher Armand, Mademoiselle Lucy Gordon, who knows all we hope and fear. A brother she has, too, with the Americans.”
Captain de la Tour stretched a friendly hand to Lucy, with a courteous bow which seemed strange to her from a man in German uniform. He spoke English without Michelle’s difficulty.
“Gordon? Is your brother Lieutenant Gordon, the aviator? Then, Mademoiselle, we are not strangers. I have brought him news of how things are in Château-Plessis. For once since the capture I crossed the lines, but could not manage to reach this house.”
“We have something to give you—something that will help the Allies,” stammered Lucy, almost choking over the words in her realization of success at last in sight.
“Truly? But first of all I must see Maman. She is up-stairs, Michelle? Ill, you say? In bed?” He ran to the stairs, while Michelle, half mad with anxiety, called Clemence from the kitchen and in a few hasty words bade her watch the street and the entrance to the garden.
“I’ll watch from the other side,” Lucy offered, but Michelle objected:
“You can see better from above. All should be well, and if not, we have no way to forbid that they come in. He will stay only a few minutes. The guard is not changed before two hours more, so not till then will the sentinel come for breakfast. If only it did not grow light so soon!”
Up-stairs, Armand was kneeling by his mother’s bed, questioning her about her welfare with feverish eagerness.