"M. Renaud seems very anxious regarding your young man," murmured Erard, but boldly. "He will attempt his rescue—yes!"
"Attempt to rescue Mr. Sanderson?" exclaimed the nurse. "From this hospital?"
"Yes. He asked many questions—all about the situation of this ward, and of the hole in the hedge through which I made my escape," and Erard's sudden grin was all mischief. "These Boches would like to know that."
"He—he would not come here—not really—to help Mr. Sanderson get away?"
"Who knows?" returned Erard. "That Renaud—he is a devil! You do not measure that child in a pint cup," he added, as though he were forced against his will to admire the ex-member of the detective police. "At least, he pumped me dry about the place, even to the situation and number of Monsieur le Aviateur's cot."
At a moment when she chanced to look forth later from the door of the hut Belinda spied Paul Genau and beckoned to him. He did not smile, nor did he seem so debonair as had been his wont; but he approached at her bidding willingly enough.
"Did Carl go?" she whispered anxiously. "Did you detail him on that errand?"
"As you requested, Cousin Belinda," he said gravely. "And I shall make it a point to see anything they may pick up before it goes to the Herr Doktor," he added significantly.
He startled her. "I—I——Oh, Paul! what shall I say to you?" the girl suddenly cried.
"Say nothing to me!" he interrupted fiercely. "I know there is some mystery—some treachery it may be—regarding this wounded airman that it is my duty to expose. But you—you, Cousin Belinda!—stand between me and my duty."