Anfossi. It gave him time to replace the dust-board over the fireplace
in which the wireless was concealed and to escape into his own bedroom.
The arrangement was ideal. And already information picked up in the
halls below by Marie had been conveyed to Anfossi to relay in a French
cipher to the German General Staff at Rheims.

Marie made an alert and charming hostess. To all who saw her it was
evident that her mind was intent only upon the comfort of her guests.
Throughout the day many came and went, but each she made welcome; to
each as he departed she called "_bonne chance_." Efficient, tireless,
tactful, she was everywhere: in the dining-room, in the kitchen, in the
bedrooms, for the wounded finding mattresses to spread in the gorgeous
salons of the champagne prince; for the soldier-chauffeurs carrying
wine into the courtyard, where the automobiles panted and growled, and
the arriving and departing shrieked for right of way. At all times an
alluring person, now the one woman in a tumult of men, her smart frock
covered by an apron, her head and arms bare, undismayed by the sight of
the wounded or by the distant rumble of the guns, the Countess
d'Aurillac was an inspiring and beautiful picture. The eyes of the
officers, young and old, informed her of that fact, one of which already
she was well aware. By the morning of the next day she was accepted as
the owner of the château. And though continually she reminded the staff
she was present only as the friend of her schoolmate, Madame Iverney,
they deferred to her as to a hostess. Many of them she already saluted
by name, and to those who with messages were constantly motoring to and
from the front at Soissons she was particularly kind. Overnight the
legend of her charm, of her devotion to the soldiers of all ranks, had
spread from Soissons to Meaux, and from Meaux to Paris. It was noon of
that day when from the window of the second story Marie saw an armored
automobile sweep into the courtyard. It was driven by an officer, young