“Well, Fernande?” he said; but Stewart did not know till afterward that the man at his side was the famous head of the French Intelligence Department, the eyes and ears of the French army—captain of an army of his own, every member of which went daily in peril of a dreadful death.
“General,” said Fernande, in a voice whose trembling earnestness caused every man present suddenly to raise his head, “I have the pleasure of introducing to you an American, Mr. Bradford Stewart, who, at great peril to himself, has brought you a message which I believe to be of the first importance.”
General Joffre bowed.
“I am pleased to meet Mr. Stewart,” he said. “What is this message?”
“It is in these letters, sir,” said Stewart, and placed the envelopes in his hand.
The general glanced at them, then slowly drew out the enclosures.
“We shall need a candle,” said Fernande; “also a flat dish of water.”
One of the secretaries hastened away to get them. He was back in a moment, and Fernande, having lighted the candle, took from his waistcoat pocket a tiny phial of blue liquid, and dropped three drops into the dish.
“Now we are ready, gentlemen,” he said. “You are about to witness a most interesting experiment.”
He picked up one of the sheets, dipped it into the water, then held it close to the flame of the candle.