With a start he became aware of her presence, and turned the flash-light upon her.
"I followed you," she stammered. "I want to explain. I'm an American girl captive among the Japanese."
He stared at her quizzically in the dim light.
"I ran from you," he said, "because I was afraid to trust you—there are a number of Europeans among the Japanese forces. I couldn't know that you wouldn't have given the alarm, and for one man to run from fifty thousand isn't cowardice; it's common sense—even bravery, perhaps, when there's a cause at stake."
"I understand," replied the girl.
"Won't you be seated?" he said, arising and offering her his place on the rock. She accepted, and he asked her for more of her story.
In reply she told him whom she was and related as briefly as she could the incidents of her life that accounted for her peculiar predicament.
"I suppose I owe you something of an explanation, too;" he said, when she had finished. "My name is Winslow—Stanley Winslow; I am —or at least was—-the editor of the Regenerationist. Do you know what that is?"
Ethel confessed, that she did not.
"Perhaps I flatter myself, but then I suppose you have had no chance to keep up on American affairs."