"So now I shall see if you are true Americans." She looked straight at Tom, and even her homely spectacles did not detract from the fire that burned in her eyes. Here was a woman, who if she had but been a man, could have done anything. "I shall give you ze paper—all print. Ze warrant. You see?" She paused, throwing her head back with such a fine air of defiance that even her wrinkled face and homely domestic garb could not dim its glory. "You shall arrest Mam'selle! Here you shall bring her. See—listen! You know what our great Napoleon say? 'Across ze Alps lies Italee.' So shall you arrest Mam'selle!" She put her arm on Tom's shoulder and looked into his eyes with a kind of inspiring frenzy. "Close, so very close," she whispered significantly, "across ze Rhine lies Switzerland!"
CHAPTER XXXI
THE END OF THE TRAIL
Not in all the far-flung battleline was there a more pitiable sight than the bright sun beheld as he poured his stifling rays down upon the winding line of upturned earth which lay in fresh piles across the country of southern Alsace.
Almost to the Swiss border it ran, but no one could get across the Swiss border here without running into Prussian bayonets. To the east, where the Rhine flowed and where the mountains were, some reckless soul might manage it in a night's journeying, if he would brave the lonesome fastnesses; though even there the meshes of forbidding wire, charged with a death-giving voltage, stretched across the path. It was not an inviting route.
"DON'T LOOK SURPRISED," TOM SAID IN AN UNDERTONE. Page 198