consider it.  Her thoughts were of her own safety; that she might live.  Not that she might still serve the Wilhelmstrasse, the Kaiser, or the Fatherland; but that she might live.  In a moment Anfossi would be denounced, the chateau would ring with the alarm, and, though she knew Anfossi would not betray her, by others she might be accused.  To avert suspicion from herself she saw only one way open.  She must be the first to denounce Anfossi.

Like a deer she leaped down the marble stairs and, in a panic she had no need to assume, burst into the presence of the staff.

“Gentlemen!” she gasped, “my servant—­the chauffeur—­Briand is a spy!  There is a German wireless in the chateau.  He is using it!  I have seen him.”  With exclamations, the officers rose to their feet.  General Andre alone remained seated.  General Andre was a veteran of many Colonial wars:  Cochin-China, Algiers, Morocco.  The great war, when it came, found him on duty in the Intelligence Department.  His aquiline nose, bristling white eyebrows, and flashing, restless eyes gave him his nickname of l’Aigle.

In amazement, the flashing eyes were now turned upon Marie.  He glared at her as though he thought she suddenly had flown mad.

“A German wireless!” he protested.  “It is impossible!”

“I was on the fourth floor,” panted Marie, “collecting linen for the Sisters.  In the room next to the linen closet I heard a strange buzzing sound.  I opened the door softly.  I saw Briand with his back to me seated by an instrument.  There were receivers clamped to his ears!  My God!  The disgrace.  The disgrace to my husband and to me, who vouched for him to you!” Apparently in an agony of remorse, the fingers of the woman laced and interlaced.  “I cannot forgive myself!”

The officers moved toward the door, but General Andre halted them.  Still in a tone of incredulity, he demanded:  “When did you see this?”

Marie knew the question was coming, knew she must explain how she saw Briand, and yet did not see the staff officer who, with his prisoner, might now at any instant appear.  She must make it plain she had discovered the spy and left the upper part of the house before the officer had visited it.  When that was she could not know, but the chance was that he had preceded her by only a few minutes.

“When did you see this?” repeated the general.

“But just now,” cried Marie; “not ten minutes since.”

“Why did you not come to me at once?”

“I was afraid,” replied Marie.  “If I moved I was afraid he might hear me, and he, knowing I would expose him, would kill me—­and so escape you!” There was an eager whisper of approval.  For silence, General Andre slapped his hand upon the table.

“Then,” continued Marie, “I understood with the receivers on his ears he could not have heard me open the door, nor could he hear me leave, and I ran to my aunt.  The thought that we had harbored such an animal sickened me, and I was weak enough to feel faint.  But only for an instant.  Then I came here.”  She moved swiftly to the door.  “Let me show you the room,” she begged; “you can take him in the act.”  Her eyes, wild with the excitement of the chase, swept the circle.  “Will you come?” she begged.