"To arrest," she said with a smile. "We don't know what has happened. There was fighting--shooting. Georg Senf may be dead. If the streets are cleared the soldiers are in command, that is certain. We can gain nothing by going now."
"But they will search this house----"
"Why? The soldiers were on guard upon the roofs. They missed us in the darkness. Those frightful roofs!" She glanced at Zoya. "How she ever managed to follow us!"
"Poor Zoya!" he said, and she understood what he meant. And then after a pause, "But we have another duty."
Her look questioned.
"To get out of Germany, with this!" and he kicked the black bag that had been the cause of all their troubles.
"Yes," she said quietly, with a smile. "Of course. But something will happen to help us. I'm sure of it. Wait."
Her courage was of the quiet kind, patient, enduring, and her words reproved the hot impulses that were surging up against his own better judgment. Soft footsteps on the stair outside and the tall man entered again, bringing some clean soft linen, a nightdress, and several bottles. Between them they managed to remove her outer clothing and then Tanya completed the arrangements for her comfort. The stranger set to work at once, silently anointing and bandaging the injury. The sting of the iodine as it entered the wound aroused her and she opened her eyes and looked around the room, meeting Rowland's eyes.
"Philippe!" she whispered softly.
Rowland, holding the lamp, felt rather than saw the slight tilt of Tanya's head upward and noticed the face of the tall man who turned his gaze up to Rowland's in grave inquiry.