end of the alley, crying out. But the man was gone. She stopped running at last and ceased to call out. She stood, swaying so that she caught to a railing before a house to steady herself. The words of the whisper ran on her lips. "I have him for you struck dead!"
They gave her explanation of the attack which, like the words of De Trevenac to her, permitted only one possible meaning. The man who had waited in the ruined house must have been one of the German agents in Paris whom Ruth had returned to meet. Evidently, while Byrne had been inquiring for her, the Germans too had been vigilant; they had awaited her return either to get her report of what she had seen in Picardy or to assign her to another task or—she could not know why they awaited her; but certainly they had. One of them had learned that afternoon that she had returned; he was seeking her, perhaps, when Byrne found her. Perhaps he had known the peril to her from Byrne; perhaps he merely had learned, from whatever he had overheard of their talk in that ruined room, that Byrne accused her of being a German spy; and so he had taken his chance to strike, for her, Byrne dead.
The horror of this realization sickened her; the German murderer "for her" had made good his escape; and it would be useless to report him now. She would be able to offer no description of him; and to report that a large man, who was a German spy, had been about that part of Paris this evening would be idle. But she must return at once to Byrne who might not be dead. So she steadied herself and hastened down the street seeking the ruined house.
