The Firefly of France

ble ordeal. Things were well under way. At the desk in the corner one officer was jotting down notes as to the clearance papers and the cargo; while at a table in the foregro

ad, no doubt, emerged with flying colors and now stood against the wall beside the doughty agent of the Phillipson Rifles, who had apparently sati

f a hypothe

ently it did, for she smiled brightly and graciously and bent her ruddy head. But she was pale, I noticed critically; there was apprehension in her eyes. Wasn't it odd th

ce man might be absolutely right. I had treated him outrageously. I owed him an apology, doubtless. But I

turning from the table. As he passed, I made

, and the thumbscrews," I m

a shrewd tanned face in which his eyes showed oddly blu

have to see your passport if you will be so good." She took i

e is Esme

she r

hangs in a dark, gloomy gallery at Rome. I was subconsciously aware that I liked it despite its strangeness, the while I wonde

are going to Italy-and then home again?" The questions came in a rea

was steady, but I saw that she had

s neck thrust forward, his eyes almost protruding in his eag

ounced the Englishman; with a little sigh

aid the officer to

malities, these war precautions, were like a dash of comic opera. I was not taking them seriously in the least. The Britisher gestu

re was something curt in his m

is Devere

ld are

irt

do yo

ington." If he could

born in

his time questions and answers

the country of one of our Allies." Was this sarc

ponded, with a cold stare

e States, are you an American ci

my passport, you'

her or your mother h

it was plain, had been subjected to such cross-questioning. I was growing

dn't," I bri

as making notes of all my answers.

Fran

ust now and quicker, too. Why not have gone that way? A

t on earth ailed the fellow? He was

s seem rather at loose ends, don'

I answered as curtly as

satisfactory response, it seemed. But on the heels of my answer there rose

t if he was an ambulance boy, and he denied it to me, up and down. I thought all along he was too smart, ho

?" asked the Englishman, h

e thought them all in league to

questions, every one, down to the ship's cat, would have shared his knowledge within the hour. I did not deny anything; I simply did not assent. You are an officer i

dity shot two questions at my head. "I say, Mr. Bayne, you're positive about your parents not having Ger

ce of Miss Esme Falconer. "What do you mean?" I

nger against the desk, and his eyes

agent is due to sail on this line, about this time, with certain papers, an

an emissary of the great Blenheim. Exasperation overwhe

"you are crazy! Look at me! Use your common-sense!

ere never is anyt

very thing the secre

il for Italy. And you are rather a soldier's type, tall, well set-up, good mi

erage American, free, white, and twenty-one, with strong pro-Ally sympathies and a passport in perfect shape. This is all nonse

nt was study

to tell me the nature of the package you t

from McGuntrie, a quick, low-drawn breath that surely cam

Package?" I repeated

engers who choose to sail instead of staying at home as we prefer they should. Captain Cecchi here reports to me that one of his stewards saw you drop a small weighted o

captain of the Re d'Italia-the one remark,

r. Bayne! What was this object you were so anxious to dispose

asual glance. Her eyes had blackened as they had done that night on the deck; her face had paled, and her breath was com