Heloise, her
long blonde hair hanging about her fine French face, was gazing out with
rapt eyes and lips apart, as if every sense were drinking in the vision
of a Germany delivered. Mimi was standing with her arms akimbo, nodding
her head emphatically.
"Great work," she said as she met Gisela's stern eyes. "Better go up to
the wireless."
They ran rapidly up to the roof and looked into the little room. The
girl who sat there nodded but did not speak. Her face was gray and
tense, but there was no evidence of despair. Gisela and Mimi stood
motionless for what seemed to them a stifling hour, but at last the
operator laid down the receiver.
"All," she said. "Every one."
"The Rhine Valley?"
The girl nodded, then rolled her jacket into a pillow, lay down before
the door and immediately fell asleep. It had been a night of ghastly
suspense. Another operator was already running up the stair to her
relief.
"Fate!" cried Mimi. "The same fate that sank the Armada and drove
Napoleon to Moscow. You had the vision--"
"I was the chosen instrument--" Gisela walked rapidly over to the
biplane. A girl sat at the joy-stick looking as if carved out of wood.
There was no more expression on her face than if she were sitting in the
gallery at a rather dull play. Her lover and six brothers were dead in
France.
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