Belinda was recovering from her sharper fear. Her brain began to consider this new peril.
"Who will go to search the place where the airmen fell, Paul?" she asked.
"Oh, I shall send a file of men with a corporal."
"Send Carl, Cousin Paul," she said quickly. "Will you—for my sake?"
"Herr Gott!" he muttered. "Then there is something wrong with that flying-man?"
"Why should you think there is anything wrong with him?" she retorted.
"You have some interest in him, Cousin Belinda."
"It seems the Herr Doktor has, too," she said significantly. "Send Carl—do. You can trust Carl."
"Ach! Baum is too great a blockhead to be anything but trustworthy," growled Paul, leaving her at the door of the women's sleeping hut.
Belinda crept to her bed that night in such a state of nervous apprehension that she could not hope to sleep. Hourly the surrounding dangers threatening Frank Sanderson and herself came closer. From all sides it seemed their safety was menaced. Whichever way she looked she could see nothing but difficulties.