What had caused Jeanne to call for help?
She had flown the hundred miles when, to her surprise, she was ordered to make a landing on a pasture of what appeared to be a small farm.
This was a level country. She experienced no trouble in landing and in taxiing her plane up to a spot near the house.
“Wait!” Hugo commanded. “There may be some message to take back.”
There was that about Hugo’s look, the tone of his voice that gave Jeanne a sudden impulse.
“As soon as he’s inside I’ll take a run down that pasture, then go into the air,” she told herself.
As if he had read Jeanne’s thoughts, Hugo turned and looked back. Then it came to Jeanne as a sort of revelation, “He must be one of the spies! And I—I have been aiding him to escape!”
Hugo had disappeared through a door. Like a flash Jeanne leaped for the shadows beneath a window.
There, chilling and thrilling, she listened to strange voices. There were, she told herself, a man and a woman. They spoke in a foreign tongue. But Jeanne, who had lived long in Europe, knew a little of many tongues. She was able to understand enough to know that they were discussing the advisability of flight over the border.
“But have you all the papers?” a woman’s voice demanded.