He nodded: "One crossed the stream below. I saw the tracks in the moss, which was still stirring where the foot had pressed."
"Dare you risk a shot in Les Errues, Kay?"
"I don't think I'd hesitate."
After a silence: "Why don't you rest? You must be dead tired," she said. And he felt a slight pressure of her fingers drawing him.
So he laid aside his work, dropped upon his blanket, and turned on his left side, looking at her.
"You have not yet seen any sign of the place from which you once looked out across the frontier and saw thousands and thousands of people as busy as a swarm of ants—have you, Kay?"
"I remember this stream and these woods. I can't seem to recollect how far or in which direction I turned after passing this granite gorge."
"Did you go far?"
"I can't recollect," he said. "I'd give my right arm if I could."
His worn and anxious visage touched her.
"Don't fret, Kay, dear," she said soothingly. "We'll find it. We'll find out what the Hun is doing. We'll discover what this Great Secret really is. And our pigeons shall tell it to the world."