“You have friends.” Her voice was low and even as the murmur of a slow moving stream. “Many friends. It is well, for there shall be perils. There is one you may wish to trust, even to love a little; but you must not, for that one is a traitor.”
“The spy!” Jeanne whispered in her companion’s ear.
“The spy!” Florence shuddered.
“You shall serve and shall be served,” Madame went on. “You shall travel—high in air.”
“Tomorrow,” Danby laughed a low laugh.
“You are entering upon a fresh adventure. Will you succeed?” Madame stared long at the cards. “It is not written here. The cards are silent. Perhaps another time.” She looked up with a slow smile on her face.
“And now, Jeannie, my little one, my tea.”
A long sighing breath from every pair of lips, a light nervous laugh, then the spell was broken. Florence knew her fortune. They might all drink their tea, then scatter to their homes for a short night of repose. To Florence, at least, the coming day would bring new scenes and fresh promise of adventure.
CHAPTER XII
FLYING THROUGH THE NIGHT
Just twenty-four hours after she had stood disconsolate before the airport depot, watching giant man-made birds sail away into the blue sky, Florence stood, traveling bag in hand, all radiant, waiting for her silver ship to wheel into position for flight. Beside her stood Danby Force and the little French girl. Danby too was going. It was to be a night flight. “All the more thrilling!” had been Jeanne’s instant prediction. “Flying by night! Seeming to play among the stars! Ah, what could be more delightful!”