The Man Without a Memory Part 48

"Well?"

"The 'third wheel', of course. It's been in my mind from the very moment of the collision. I don't know how it was, but that rushed into my head instantly; and when you weren't hurt, I could think of nothing but that;" and she pointed to the suit case.

"It was the last word you spoke before fainting."

"And the first when I came round. I was so thankful when I saw you'd brought it away all right. I didn't care after that. You didn't seem really hurt; only shaken; I knew I should be all right soon; and I felt a sort of certainty that the third wheel would carry us into safety.

Hadn't we better go?"

"Yes, if you feel fit to do a few miles before daylight?"

"You'll soon see that, if you'll go to your own room and change and leave me to do the same."

My "room" was the back of the shed outside, and I lost no time in getting off my own clothes and putting on the workman's dress over what my flying friend had called the "tummy pad." Then I lit up and waited, thinking what a plucky soul Nessa was, until she called to me.

"How's this, matey?" she asked in her new character and laughed.

It was a wonderful transformation indeed! I should never have recognized her; and the few little scratches on her face from the broken gla.s.s in the collision, combined with some artistic smudges she had added, made her into a lifelike young workboy.

"What have you done with your hair?" I exclaimed.

"Just messed it up under the cap. Of course it'll have to come off; but we'd better not waste any time about it now, had we? We can see to it later in the morning."

"Righto," I agreed; and we set to work to finish the other preparations. We had to dispose of our own clothes, of course; so we rolled them up tightly, put the overalls in the suit case, and were ready.

"Now for the frontier," I said. "Let's hope the luck's with us."

"Cheero, matey; if it isn't, you'll get us through somehow," she replied with the most plucky confidence.

I loved her for that, for I knew that she understood the difficulties and risks that lay ahead quite as well as I did. I lost my head for a minute then; and just as we stood on the threshold of the dingy little shed, I put my arm round her, drew her quickly to me and kissed her on the lips.

She held to me for an instant, kissed me in return, and then drew away quickly.

"Not so much of it, matey. Do you take me for a girl? You've knocked my cap off, clumsy," she cried, laughing and blushing, as her glorious hair fell over her shoulders and down to her waist.

"A fine sort of a girl you'd make, and no mistake," I replied, picking up the cap and giving it to her.

In a few moments she had it in place again, pulled the cap down over it and was once more ready.

"Come on, clumsy," she called, stepping out into the night.

And in that way we started on the journey to the frontier.

CHAPTER XXIV

NESSA'S DOWNFALL

The chief event of the hours following the railway smash was histrionic rather than serious, although Nessa regarded it as both humiliating and tragic. And tragic it might easily have been.

Her courage was wonderful. Nothing could damp her spirits nor lessen her high confidence. She laughed at the idea of risks or danger, scoffed at difficulties, and made light of every obstacle as if ours was a mere holiday jaunt. An optimist to the very tips of her pretty fingers.

To be Hans, the mechanic, was just a delightfully farcical joy; she took pride in her skill in playing the part, and was so eager to show me how carefully she had studied it that I hadn't the heart to be a candid critic and point out that it was one thing to act a part for an hour or two on an amateur stage or when we were by ourselves, and quite another to keep it for days in circ.u.mstances when even a slight trip might spell grave trouble.

And that our situation was full of difficulties and even dangers was certain. She was still suffering from the inevitable shock of the railway smash; she was done up and sorely in need of rest; it was out of the question to think of seeking a lodging in Osnabruck; the best we could look for was to shelter in some barn or out-of-the-way shed; fifty miles or more lay between us and the frontier, any yard of which might bring some incident which would involve discovery; and even if we got through safely, the job of crossing the frontier would be the most difficult and dangerous of any.

The little incident in the shed as we were leaving kept us both silent for a while. It was the first sign since we had met in Berlin to suggest the renewal of our old relations; and it was not until we reached a good spot for ridding ourselves of our own clothes that the silence was broken.

We struck out to the north of the town and turned along a footpath which would lead us round the outskirts. This took us across a broad stream, and Nessa pulled up on the bridge to suggest we should sink the clothes. We made them into two parcels, put some heavy stones in each, and I sunk them under some trees which overhung the stream a little distance along the bank.

"And when do you propose to put your thinking cap on about our plans, Jack?" she chipped when I rejoined her.

"I'm not going to think of anything else from this minute."

"Hear, hear. The 'anything else' must wait, eh?" she cried, with one of her bright silvery laughs.

"That's not very much like a German hobbledehoy's laugh, is it?"

"Righto, matey, I forgot. That was Nessa; this is Hans;" and she guffawed in her best Hans' manner.

"Not so much of your forgetting, young 'un. This may be no mere picnic."

"Keep your hair on; but I'm going to have the time of my life. By the way, what's your name?"

"Been christened so often lately that I'm not too clear about it. You can call me boss."

"Boss, eh? Then you expect to be master, I suppose?" with a mischievous meaning chuckle. "Am I to keep it up always?"

"Jack's the English for it."

"Anything else?" she chuckled again.

"Wait till the time comes, my lad;" and she decided to drop the chaff.

"And what about our plans, boss?" she asked after a pause.

"I don't see anything for it but to tramp it, if you can stick it."

"How far?"

"The nearest road to the frontier is about thirty odd miles; but as we can't take that, we can put it down at fifty, say. There's no need to rush things, and if we can manage ten or fifteen each day, it ought to do the trick."

"Nothing in that to hurt me, boss. I've often padded twenty or twenty-five in a day, looking for a job, you know. But what's waiting for us at the end of the tramp?"

"I wish I could tell you. My rough idea is to make for a place called Lingen. There are two little dips in the Dutch frontier which come down close to it, and it looks like a fairly good jumping-off place. I'm out of it, if we don't run against some of the smuggling lot there, and the best plan I can think of is to try and join up with some of them and get across in that way."