The Man Without a Memory by Arthur W. Marchmont (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

"Now, you'd like to tell me your story," he opened.

I told him the tale we had prepared and he put a question or two which were easily answered.

"I'm sorry for you, my lass," he said to her. "Very sorry; you're only one among too many thousands; and you shall get away all right. They're not particular about women and girls, you know," he added to me. "But it's different with men. Their orders are to shoot first and ask questions afterwards. Three were found trying to jump the frontier last week and were shot. Two the week before; and one of 'em was our only engineer. So if that's what's brought you here, I can't help you. We'd all the trouble we wanted over the last affair."

"I'm no skulker, I assure you. If they call 'em up, I'm ready any time."

"You'll give me your word to stop here then?"

"Unless I have to go anywhere else. I'm pretty handy at my job, you know."

He seemed satisfied, and then told me his plans.

Nessa was to leave that night. He had a nephew in the Landwehr regiment at present guarding a part of the frontier, which was especially promising for the scheme, and we were to run out there in his car. I was to stay with him in Lingen, partly to help in the smuggling operations but largely to keep in order his and his associates' motors. There were a number of Lingen people in the thing, which was winked at by the authorities, who would not ask any questions about me if I was known to be in the swim.

He gave me a host of details, took me out later to see the place where I was to work; a very well-equipped place it was, too, but with only a lad and a doddering old fellow as the staff: explained that they often lost considerably by breakdowns; and then left me to return to Nessa, saying that he must go and arrange about the night's venture.

I found Nessa very dejected, buried in thought, with her knitting on her lap.

"Looks good enough, eh?" I said to cheer her.

It wasn't a success. She did not answer for a while. "Do you trust him?" she asked, looking up at length.

"Why not? He was frank enough; and we should have been in a deuce of a mess without him. It can't be worse even if he gives us away. But he won't. I'm sure of that."

"But about you?"

"Meaning?" I knew what was coming, however.

"You heard what he said about those men being shot. It brought my heart up in my mouth."

"It's no more than we heard at Massen."

"We agreed to try together, remember."

"I haven't forgotten. We'll see what happens to-night."

"You don't want me to go by myself? You promised, Jack."

"Better one than neither of us, surely. That reminds me. You must have some money in case I fail;" and I offered her some notes.

She shook her head and pushed them away. "I have more than enough for my purpose."

I knew what she meant. She was resolved not to go alone, and it worried me considerably. It was splendidly staunch and lovable and brave, but none the less quixotic and a serious blunder. "You heard what that police sergeant had told old Fischer?"

"Of course," she nodded casually, as if it didn't make the least difference.

"You shall settle it for yourself, Nessa." There was nothing to be gained by trying to dissuade her then, so I left it until the moment for action should arrive. After my promise, it was impossible for me to think of going with her.

Fischer came back chuckling. "We're in luck," he declared. "I met my nephew, Fritz, in the town just now. He'll do it all right. He'll be on guard at one of the roads; the very spot of all others for us; near a little thicket they call the Pike Wood. We're to be there about nine. I explained everything to him, and of course I've pledged my word that only your sister's going over. That's right, eh?"

"Quite," I assured him.

Nessa's needles stopped clicking for an instant and I heard her catch her breath. It augured badly for the night's enterprise; but if I had wished to renew the attempt to persuade her, I could not have done it, as we were not left alone altogether again until the time came for us to set out.

I drove the car with Fischer at my side, and by his instructions, Nessa lay on the bottom of the tonneau which was constructed much like that of the farmer's I had mended at Osnabrück. She was hidden under a rug and a tarpaulin, and he told her to cover up even her head if any one spoke to us on the way.

We had some dozen miles to run, and for the greater part of the way no one attempted to interfere with us. The old fellow seemed to be hugely pleased by the way I handled the ramshackle machine; and even more so when I explained the reason of some of the queer noises and jumps which the engine developed. "You're the man for us!" he exclaimed more than once.

When we reached the outskirts of a village close to the frontier, he bent over and told Nessa to hide herself completely. "We shall be questioned here; but it won't matter. Go slow for a bit," he added to me; "and pull up at once if they order us."

The village was full of soldiers, and I began to realize in earnest then the difficulties of our escaping without his help. We were pulled up twice in the village, but allowed to proceed the moment he was recognized and produced some authority he had.

After we left the village behind us there were plenty of people, both men and women, all with their faces turned frontierwards. "What are all these doing?" I asked.

"Crumb-hunters, we call 'em." Descriptive enough, too; and he told me they were out in all weathers to pick up any trifles from the Dutch side, and that passes were given to them for the purpose.

"And what about the Dutch guards?"

"Getting fat on it," replied Fischer, rubbing his palm and then putting a finger to the side of his nose. "Bleed us to a tune, too. Their people try to stop it; change the men often enough; but it only means that Peter gets a greasy palm instead of Paul. We turn off into the next lane on the right: it runs across the frontier; the Pike Wood's just there; but you'll have to stop a little short of it to turn the car."

We ran about half a mile along the lane to the spot where I turned and we all got out. He led the way across a field or two, and, as we were rather before our time—nine o'clock—he posted us at a point in the thicket from which we could see the guards at the gate which marked the boundary on the German side, and then left us.

I was beginning to get a little excited by that time, but Nessa seemed quite unmoved, except that she shivered once or twice, for the night air had a nip in it. Whether she persisted in her intention not to go without me, I could not say. She had heard me tell old Fischer that I wasn't going; but she maintained a sphinxlike silence all the time he was away.

He went up to the guards and I could just make out their figures as he stood talking to them; and presently he disappeared into the darkness through the gate. A minute or two later some shots were fired from the other side of the barrier; soon afterwards a loaded wagon came dashing from that side, the three horses galloping at full stretch, and a man I took to be Fischer jumped from it.

An exhibition of organization followed. A number of men sprang up from nowhere; the wagon was unloaded almost instantly; and they scuttled off into the night with cases and barrels and packages of all descriptions and sizes. It was done like a flash; and the wagon was galloped back across the frontier. It had just disappeared when an officer rode up, presumably to learn the cause of the firing. Just then Fischer rejoined us, out of breath, but hugely pleased.

"A near thing," he panted. "If that officer had been a minute earlier he'd have commandeered the lot. He's a swinehound. You must lie doggo till he's gone; but it's all right. Fritz will give you the tip. You're to go forward the moment you hear him whistling 'The Watch on the Rhine.' Don't lose a second. Give him a twenty-mark note; it's for his two pals. And now I can't stop with you, I must see to things. I'll wait for you at the car."

"What was that firing?" I asked as he turned away.

"To fool the Dutch officers," he said over his shoulder as he went.

Nessa's intention was still a riddle. She stood leaning against a tree, motionless as a statue and up to this point as silent. But the time had come when I must know what she meant to do.

"You're going, Nessa?" I whispered.

No answer; not even a shrug of the shoulders.

"Nessa, dear, you're going?"

"Are you?"

"No. I gave my word. Besides I've half a notion that this is a sort of test. Fischer has told the men that I am not, and even if they didn't shoot us both, I should be ruined with him. And you can see for yourself there isn't one chance in a hundred of our getting through."

She listened but made no reply.

"We shall have that signal in a moment. That officer is riding away."

A long tremulous sigh from her. "Do you wish me to go, Jack?"

"Yes, most certainly. It's the luckiest chance in the world."

"Is it?"

"You can see it for yourself, dearest." I tried to put my arm round her, but she drew away.

"Don't, Jack! After what you've just said."

There was a pause in which we could catch the guttural tones of the guards and hear them stamping their feet. Precious seconds were flying and I was getting into a positive fever of impatience and anxiety.

"I'm only thinking of you, Nessa. You know that. Do make up your mind to go. You must surely see that it's the one course for you. There's the road to England and your mother and——"

"And you're to stop here in all this danger alone."

My patience began to give out. "I know you're thinking of me, but I can get out of it all ever so much better alone. But there, if you won't, you won't, and there's an end of it."

"You promised to make an attempt together. Have you done it?"

"For Heaven's sake, Nessa, don't let us split hairs at a moment like this. Here's the chance of chances for you, and you may never have another. If you wish ever to see England again, or at all events until after the war's over, you'll take it."

"That shows what little chance you think you have of getting away," she retorted, and made me wish I'd said something else.

"I didn't mean anything of the sort, only that it will be infinitely easier for me alone."

She didn't answer, and in the pause the first bars of the "Watch on the Rhine" were whistled in a low cautious pitch.

"Come, dearest," I whispered and put my arm about her.

"Oh, I can't go, Jack. I—I can't be such a coward!" she whispered, trembling in her agitation.

"For Heaven's sake, dearest!"

The whistling had ceased, but she still hesitated.

After an interval, very short, the whistle came again, slightly louder.

There was only one last plea I could think of. "It may cost me my life if you don't go, Nessa."

I felt her shudder convulsively as she yielded, and clung to me for an instant. "I'll go. Oh, God!" she moaned piteously under her breath.

I hurried her