The man reached toward his hip pocket and drawing forth a bright metallic object held it close to her face. Her breath stopped short. Then a flood of light struck her full in the eyes, as her captor pressed the button on his flash lamp.
"God! a woman!" the man gasped. The exclamation and voice were clearly not Japanese.
Ethel felt the grip loosen from her wrists and the weight shift from her chest.
"You're no Japanese!" he said under his breath, at the same time letting the glowing flash lamp fall from his hand.
Presently Ethel raised her head and reached for the lamp where it lay wasting its rays against the black soil. She now turned the glow on the other and saw kneeling beside her a young man in American clothes. He was hatless and coatless and his soft gray shirt was torn and mud bespattered. A massive head of uncombed hair crowned a handsome forehead, but the face beneath was marred by a stubby growth of beard.
"Who are you?" whispered Ethel finding her voice.
"Put out the light," he commanded, reaching forward to take it from her.
"Who are you?" he asked reversing the query as they were again in darkness.
"I'm a girl," said Ethel.
The man laughed softly.