Her voice seemed to guide the voices without. “Ruth! Ruth Alden! Are you all right? We’re here!”
“Gave proof through the night,” she sang, “that the flag was still there——”
Now voices—unmistakable voices—answered her; and she cried out to guide them. Gerry called to her, his voice wondrous with triumph and joy. He was there at the door of her cell; another man was with him; a friend. They were working together with a bar to burst the lock; the friend laughed loudly and was not afraid. Gerry did not laugh; he spoke to her again and again, asking about her. She was well? She was unhurt?
Gerry was there at the door of her cell; another man was with him; a friend
Now they had the lock broken; the door open. Gerry seized her as she came out; he kissed her; he picked her up and started to carry her, while she cried to him that she was strong and could walk; could run; could do anything now. Anything!
The roar of the airplane continued overhead; and Ruth now knew the trick. It was keeping the Germans below while Gerry and his companion went through the schloss. Ruth did not yet have complete comprehension of the event; she supposed that Gerry must have escaped from Germany long before; that he had rejoined his squadron and had come from the allied lines with the raiders that night.
Now they were out of the schloss and Gerry was leading her over soft ground—a field brightly lit by the moon.
“Gerry, I’ve their plan!” Ruth cried to him. “On the front between Soissons and Reims; their next attack! I know it....”
He no longer was leading her. He lifted her and bundled her against him, quite as he had done once so long before. An airplane was approaching; she could hear the loud crescendo of its motor; suddenly it ceased and she heard only the whir of the airscrew of a machine about to land.