Knowing how anxious Lois would be for a fuller understanding of his
coming, Ray set off for Frau Helse’s house the moment he had finished
breakfast next morning.
Lois had obviously been on tenterhooks till he came. He was hardly
ushered into the stiff, sombre drawing-room, when the door flew open
and she came hastily in.
“Oh, Ray!”--and he caught her in his arms and kissed her.
“There is nothing wrong at home?--Mother?--Father?--” she asked
quickly, her anxiety accepting the unusual warmth of his greeting as
somehow appropriate to the circumstances. “Is it only what Mother says,
or----”
“Just exactly what Mother says, my child, and quite enough too.
Everybody is perfectly well. Our only anxiety is on your account.”
“And you really think there is going to be trouble?”
“Uncle Tony is certain we’re in for a general European war,--in fact
for Armageddon foretold of the prophets. And the mere chance of it is
more than enough to make us want you home.”
She could still hardly quite take it all in. She stood gazing at him in
amazement.
“And you?--you really think it, Ray?”
“Nothing’s impossible in these times, and I’m not going to run any
risks where you’re concerned. How soon can you be ready?”
“I’ll finish my packing at once. I started early this morning, though I
was not at all sure what it all meant.”
“One moment, Lois,” he said meaningly. “You can trust these people, I
suppose?”
“Frau Helse? Oh yes. They’re as nice as can be.”
“Very well then. Pack just your choicest possessions into a small bag
that I can carry, and everything else into your trunk. We’ll leave the
trunk in Frau Helse’s care and take the other with us.”
“But why not take the trunk also?” she asked in surprise.
“If matters are as I think, from what I’ve seen, they’re mobilising
here for all they are worth, and the lighter we travel the better. Our
train could hardly get through coming. Going back will be worse. Indeed
I’ve already had it hinted to me that our safest way will be to strike
right down south into Switzerland.”
“Into Switzerland?”
“Yes, if things develop rapidly, as they probably will, all the traffic
here will go to pieces--all in the hands of the military, you know. And
you know enough of Germany to know what that means.”
She nodded thoughtfully, and said, “There’s been something going on
below-ground for some time past. I was sure of it. They said it was
manœuvres, but it looks as if it was a good deal more. I can be all
ready in an hour. Will you see Frau Helse?”
“Perhaps I’d better, so that she may see I’m at all events respectable
to look at. Then I’ll go to the station and see if the trains are
running all right. You’ve told her, I suppose.”
“Yes, I showed her Mother’s letter. But she was decidedly shocked at
the idea of my going off alone with any man who wasn’t at least a
cousin.”
“Oh--cousin! She’ll be more shocked before she sees the end of it all,
maybe.”
So Lois went away and brought in Frau Helse and Luise, and introduced
Ray to them. They had been mightily surprised at Fräulein Lois’s
news, and Frau Helse--when the two girls had gone off to finish the
packing--let it be seen that she was distinctly doubtful as to the
perfect propriety of allowing her to go off with this good-looking
young Engländer, who was not in any way related to her. However, in the
face of Mrs Dare’s letter she could scarcely raise any objection, and
Ray got away as soon as he could, promising to be back in an hour.
He had decided to take the friendly Saxon’s advice and make for
Switzerland. He reasoned the matter out thus,--Austria and Servia were
practically at war. Though no formal declaration had yet been made,
the Austrian Legation had left Belgrade. Russia would almost certainly
help Servia. Germany would help Austria. France would help Russia.
Without doubt Germany would endeavour to strike at France quickly and
heavily. She could only do that down south. So all the railway lines
leading thither would be taken over by the military, and ordinary
travellers--and still more especially foreigners--would meet with less
consideration even than usual.
So he enquired for trains for Munich, intending to get from there into
Tirol, and so into neutral Switzerland. Since the first clash of arms
would undoubtedly come far away to the south on the Servian frontier,
it was reasonable to expect that this remote corner of Austria would
still be comparatively free and open to traffic.
There was a train at ten o’clock and another at half-past twelve. He
decided on the earlier one, paid his bill at the hotel, and drove off
to Frau Helse’s to secure his prize.
Lois was waiting for him, all dressed for the journey, and the
slightness of her travelling equipment evoked his surprised eulogiums.
As they were making for the station, with just comfortable time to
get their tickets, they passed on the sidewalk a man of unforgettable
proportions.
There was no possibility of mistaking him, but Ray had no desire for
his further acquaintance and permitted no sign of recognition to escape
him. The stout one, however, turned ponderously and looked after them,
and then said a word or two to a policeman.
Ray had got their tickets, and had despatched a telegram--which never
reached him--to Uncle Tony, saying they were just starting for home via
Munich and Switzerland; and they were waiting impatiently for the doors
of the Wartesaal to be opened to let them through to their train, when
a couple of police-officers came pushing through the throng to Ray and
abruptly requested him to follow them.
He was taken aback, but knew his Germany and its unpleasant little ways
too well to make trouble.
“Follow you? Certainly! But why?”
But they were not there to answer questions, only to carry out orders.
“Come!” they gruffly insisted, and Ray gave his arm to Lois and went.
They were put into a carriage and driven away to Police Head-Quarters,
and after a long wait were ushered into the presence of a high
official, who looked worried and overworked.
“Who and what are you? And what are you doing here?” he asked brusquely.
Ray supplied him with the desired information.
“Your passport?”
“I have none, Herr Head-of-Police,”--he had no idea what his
questioner’s standing might be, but knew that in addressing officials
in Germany you can hardly aim too high. “I left London at almost a
moment’s notice on Saturday morning, to bring this lady home to her
mother. I did not know a passport was necessary.”
“We have definite information that you are a spy.”
“From the fat gentleman who insulted me in the train yesterday, I
presume,” said Ray, with a smile. “He tried to sit on me and then
called me names, and I called him Fat-Pig. He had already annoyed
everyone in the carriage, and they all sided against him and told him
what they thought of him. I am no more a spy than he is, mein Herr....
Stay--here is my return ticket to London dated, as you see, Saturday.
My fiancée has been studying in Leipsic here for the last two years.
She lived with Frau Helse, 119 Sebastian Bach Strasse. Have you your
mother’s letter with you, Lois?”--and she got it out and handed it to
the official.
He read it carefully and seemed to weigh each word and seek between the
lines for hidden treason.
“And why is Fräulein Dare leaving so hurriedly?”
“Her mother wished her at home and we judged there might possibly be
difficulties for a girl travelling alone.”
“Why?”
“When there are rumours of war in the air, mein Herr, one’s best place
is in one’s own country. That was how we looked at it.”
“But the war--if it comes to anything--is far enough from here,” and he
eyed Ray keenly, as though to penetrate his whole mind on the matter.
“May it remain so!” said Ray earnestly. “But when a fire starts one
never knows for certain how far it will spread.”
“And you were going to Munich,--towards the danger in fact.”
“Yes, we were going by Innsbruck and Tirol into Switzerland and
so home. The traffic on the direct lines seems disorganised. The
booking-clerk refused me a ticket via Cologne.”
“I shall have to keep you awhile till I have made some further
enquiries. If they are satisfactory you will be allowed to proceed. If
not----”
“Herr Head-of-Police,” pleaded Lois, in her best German, which was very
good indeed, and in her prettiest manner, which was irresistible, “It
is too ridiculous. Herr Luard is a student of law in London. He is the
nephew of Sir Anthony Luard, who lives next door to us at home, and we
are fiancés. That is why he came for me. He is no more a spy than I am.
And Frau Helse will tell you all about me. Fräulein Luise and Ludwig
were across at our home in London last year.”
He nodded somewhat less officially. “I know Frau Helse, and doubtless
it is all as you say, Fräulein. But we have to be careful in these
days. I trust your detention will not be prolonged.”
He touched a bell and they were ushered into an adjoining room and left
alone.
“Looks as if my assistance was not of much use to you, my dear,”
laughed Ray. “I wish I’d smashed Fat-Pig’s ugly old head in. It would
at all events have put him hors-de-combat for a day or two and would
have been a great satisfaction to my feelings as well.”
“Then I should never have seen you at all,” said Lois. “It will be all
right, I’m sure. Frau Helse will satisfy him. I’m glad he knows her.”
And an hour later they were released without a word of apology. But it
was enough for them to be free, and they made their way back to the
station in good enough spirits.
The delay, however, had lost them both the earlier and the later
trains, and the time-tables showed that the next one for the south
would land them at a place called Schwandorf at four o’clock in the
morning, with the remote possibility of reaching Munich six hours
later. There was a fast through train a little after midnight, which,
barring accidents or delays, would get them there a couple of hours
earlier, but after their late experience, and with the chance of
running across their fat friend again, and perhaps becoming further
victims to his pig-headed venom, Ray thought it best to get out of
Leipsic as early as possible, even at cost of a weary night journey
in a train that stopped at every station. Every station would at all
events be that much between them and Pig-Head.
So they had their mid-day meal in the Station restaurant, and dallied
over it as long as possible, and spent the rest of their time in the
waiting-room, so that the authorities should have no possible pretext
for suspicion.
They were perfectly happy, however, in one another’s company and the
new relationship which Ray’s coming had jewelled into accepted family
fact. Ray told her all he could think of about home-doings, and was
keen to learn the smallest details of her life in Leipsic, and so
there was no lack of talk between them and the time did not seem long.
Streams of people passed through the station, mostly men, and mostly in
uniform. Ray saw without seeming to notice, and was confirmed in the
view that great and grave events were brewing.
Their train was an hour late in starting, and, by reason of many
stoppages and much side-tracking to allow other heavily-laden trains to
pass, was more than two hours late in reaching Schwandorf.
It was a deadly wearisome journey,--the carriages packed beyond reason,
everyone somewhat on edge with anxiety and excitement, senseless
disputations and bickerings, jokes that lacked humour but led to noisy
quarrelling, no rest for mind or body. They were glad to turn out into
the chill morning air at Schwandorf, only to find the express already
gone and none but slow trains till the 1 p.m. express which would, if
it kept faith, land them in Munich about four in the afternoon.
They had breakfast and then propped themselves into corners in the
waiting-room and endeavoured to make up for the loss of their night’s
rest.
The express was not quite so crowded, but even it was frequent captive
to the sidings, and as their fellow-travellers regarded them with
polite but unmistakable suspicion they deemed it wise to keep silence,
and so found the journey very monotonous. And everywhere, from such
glimpses of the country and stations as their middle seats afforded
them, they got the impression of unusual activities and endless
uniforms.
“Is it always like this?” whispered Ray into Lois’s ear one time, and
she shook her head.
It was after five o’clock when they at last drew into Munich, and as
they stood in the carriage to let other eager travellers descend,
Lois plucked Ray warningly by the arm, and he saw, rolling along the
platform, the Ponderous One who had already got them into trouble in
Leipsic.
“Hang the Fat-Pig!” he murmured. “Is there no getting away from him?
What a Thing to be haunted by!”
They peered out of the window till they saw him roll through the
barrier, and only then ventured to descend and make for the restaurant.
For to be delivered over to the police as suspects here, where they
knew no one, might involve them in endless trouble and delay. The one
thing they desired now, above food or even sleep, was to set foot in a
country where English folk were not looked upon as suspicious outcasts.
“Can you go on?” asked Ray. “I’m sure you’re dead tired, but----”
“Oh, let us get on,” she replied, with a touch of the all-prevailing
anxious strain in her voice. “Anything to get out of this horrid
country. They make me feel like a leper.”
There was a train marked to leave at 5.30 which had not yet started,
and without waiting to get anything to eat, though their last meal
had been early breakfast at Schwandorf, they climbed into a carriage,
thankful at all events at thought of leaving their gross bête-noir
behind in Munich.
It was close on 11 p.m. when they reached Innsbruck, and Ray led her
straight across to the Tirolerhof, engaged two rooms, boldly registered
their names as Raglan and Lois Luard, and ordered supper,--anything
they had ready, and they fell upon it with a sixteen-hours’ appetite.
“For the time being,” said Ray, with reference to the name he had
conferred upon her, when the sharpest edge of their hunger was blunted,
“We are brother and sister to the obnoxious outside public. If you
don’t want to be a sister to me you shall tell me so in private. It
strikes me, my dear, that we may possibly not get home quite as quickly
as they will be expecting over there.”
“If you hadn’t come it looks as though I would never have got home at
all. Oh, I _am_ so glad you came, Ray. What does it all mean, do you
think?”
“Mighty trouble all round, I fear. They are evidently mobilising here
at top pressure. That means an attack on France. And what that may
mean to us I can’t quite foresee.... We may have to get home through
Italy.... But--Heavens and Earth!--Italy will be into it too. She’s
bound to go in with Germany and Austria.... Do you know what _I_ think,
my child?”
“No, what? Anything to the point?”
“Seems to me we may be bottled up here--that is in Switzerland, if
we ever succeed in getting there--for the rest of our lives. What
do you say to getting married as soon as we do get there--if ever,
Miss--er--Luard,--and so regularising the position?” and he looked
whimsically at her.
“We’ll wait and see, as Mr. Asquith says,” she smiled. “If we really do
get bottled up it may have to come to that.”
“H’m! And I was hoping you’d jump at the chance!”
“It’s rather sudden, you see, and a bit overwhelming. We’ve only been
really engaged since yesterday morning....”
“Oh ho! That so? But you knew all about it. Now didn’t you?”
“A girl can never really know quite all about it, you know, until she
is asked. She may know her own side of the matter----”
“As you did.”
“And she may have every confidence in--er--the other side----”
“As you had.”
“But----”
“But me no buts, my child! I consider my idea an eminently sensible
one. You think it over.... And consider all the advantages!--no fuss,
no wedding-breakfast, no hideous publicity. Just a quiet wedding and
right into the blissfullest honeymoon that ever was. Heavenly!”
“Well, I’ll think it over, and we’ll see how we go on. What time do we
start in the morning?”
“There’s a train at 9.45, but it only goes as far as Feldkirch. And
there’s a fast train at 1.15 which should land us in Zurich some time
after 8.”
“Let us take the 1.15, then we can have a good rest. I’m awfully tired.”
“One-fifteen it is. And you don’t need to get up till ten,--eleven, if
you like,” and he escorted her upstairs to her room.
“Do brothers and sisters kiss at your house?” he whispered at the door.
“They don’t at ours.”
“Nor at ours,” and she put up her face to be kissed.
Innsbruck was as yet fairly quiet. The garrison had gone and had been
replaced by men of the reserve; most of the visitors had taken fright
and fled; a few bewildered--or phlegmatic--English and Americans were
left, but the empty streets and the anxious and preoccupied looks of
the women gave the pleasant little town an unusual and dreary aspect,
and our travellers were glad to be en route for a land less likely to
be disturbed by alarms and excursions and all the fears of war.