A FRIEND IN NEED
When the woman returned to us she had quite thrown off her emotional
outburst at our meeting, and her first words were a warning not to
speak another word of English.
"I couldn't help it at first, I was so excited; but it would ruin me if
it was known that I'm British," she declared, and over the breakfast
she told us her story.
She was from Cork, where she had married a German baker named Fischer,
had come to Germany a few years later, had been a widow for five years,
and had continued to carry on the business of the inn. She was very
curious to learn the truth about the war; and when I had satisfied her,
we settled down to the consideration of her own affairs.
We returned confidence for confidence: that Nessa and I were engaged to
be married; how I had come from England to find her; the plight she had
been in owing to von Erstein's persecution; that we had been in the
train smash, and had escaped with our lives, but had lost the passports.
She knew the von Erstein type of German well enough to sympathize
deeply with Nessa and listened in tears to that part of the story.
"I can help you both, and I will; but you'll have to be as cautious as
a pair of wild birds. They're just grabbing the men into the army with
both hands, for one thing, and they'll take you at sight, and then what
would she do, poor thing?"
"But aren't a lot of mechanics exempted?"
"Do you know anything about such things really?"
"Most there is to know about motors and aeroplanes."
"Oh, that's better," she cried, rubbing her hands. "They're making that
sort of thing now at a place called Ellendorf, out Lingen way; and
they're wanting men badly. You can say you've heard of it and are on
your road there, and it may help you through. But understand that all
strangers about here are suspected and the police are mighty curious;
and it's worse the closer to the frontier you get. Have you thought how
you're to get across?"
"If we're as lucky there as we have been here, it mayn't be so
difficult. My rough idea was to join up with some of the folk who are
smuggling things over and look for a chance to slip across."
"I'd thought of that, too, and I can help you," she said, and then
explained her plan.
She declared that nearly every one near the frontier was taking a hand
in the smuggling game and that the authorities, both police and
military, not only winked at it, but secretly encouraged it. Lately,
however, owing to the more drastic rounding up of men for the army,
there had been a good deal of the slipping over which we wished to do,
and stringent measures were being taken in consequence.
"That makes it more difficult," she continued; "but my late husband's
brother, Adolf Fischer, lives there. I'll give you a note to him and
he'll help you."
"Is he one of them?" I asked.
She smiled and nodded. "He's getting rich at it and has several people
working with him. I'll have to lie for you; but I don't mind. I'll tell
him I know all about you and that you want to join him; but don't say a
word about skipping over, or he'll put the police on you. He's very
thick with them, but that needn't scare you. They won't touch one of
his men."
"We're awfully obliged to you."
"I only wish I could do more. Of course, I'll find some clothes for
you," she said to Nessa. "They'll only be rough working things; but
then nothing else would do; and if you'll both be guided by me, you
won't think of risking the walk to Lingen. What you'd better do is to
stop here and rest till to-morrow morning, get away early and foot it
to Massen; it's only a matter of four or five miles: and catch the
train there; and it would be all the better if you were to wear
overalls. I can get you some."
"I have some already," I put in.
"All the better, but whatever you do, don't carry that grip with you.
Might as well write who you are on your back. Much better carry a tool
or so in your hand as if you were off to a job in a hurry; and she
might have a small market basket. She'll be your wife till ye reach
Lingen; and don't forget that most Germans treat their wives pretty
gruffly. There are plenty of spies about with sharp eyes for trifles of
the sort. They might even see that you don't eat like them. I should
have known you by it," she declared.
We both laughed as we thanked her again; and soon afterwards she took
Nessa away to see about the change of dress.
We had fallen on our feet in all truth. Her help was literally
invaluable. Every one of her suggestions was practical and opened my
eyes to the many little difficult details and pitfalls which had never
occurred to us when planning our escape.
An hour or two later she came back saying she had left Nessa making
some few necessary alterations in the dress and wanted to speak to me
alone. "Just like me, I've put my foot in it with her. I told her
what's only the truth, that you'll never be able to get over the
frontier together, and she swears nothing shall make her go alone. You
must talk her round or----" and she shook her head doubtfully.
"That'll be all right."
"Perhaps. She's just the bravest darling in the world, but my, what a
will!" and she threw up her hands and smiled. "The frontier men will
always wink at a woman crossing, but if they catch a man trying it they
shoot him and done with it. Now what'll you do if she won't give in?"
I shrugged my shoulders.
"Well, I'll tell you. Go to that factory at Ellendorf and get a job.
You'll both be safe there; they'll find you a cottage, and you'll have
to wait till a chance comes to get away together. Tell my
brother-in-law you're going there and that you can do his work from
there. But if she sticks out, don't try anything from Lingen; he's sure
to hear about it, and then you may look out. Don't forget that and
think that because he speaks you fair, he's soft. He isn't. He daren't
be, either."
She went on to give me a host of details about the smuggling, and I
took an opportunity to ask about the farmer whose car I had repaired.
"Old Farmer Glocken, you mean. He's deep as a well and as dangerous as
St. Patrick found the snakes. If he can make use of you, all right;
he'll do it so long as it pays him; but he'd sell his own wife, poor
wretch, for a few marks. Don't go near him."
"He does a little smuggling?"
"A little! He's in it up to his eyes. He could get you both across
easily enough, if you paid him, supposing he didn't take your money
first and then sell you. And that's as likely as not."
Some one knocked at the door then and she went out, returning with a
servant who clumped noisily after her and began to lay the cloth for
dinner.
"Be careful, Gretchen," she said sharply as the girl nearly let some
glasses fall. She was a stoutish, rather slatternly girl, with
particularly grimy finger nails, and a shawl over her head which
concealed most of her face. She was very clumsy, too, and set
everything down awkwardly with a guffaw.
"What do you think of Gretchen?"
I started and they both laughed. It was Nessa, of course, and she
whipped off the shawl, clapped her hands, and turned completely round
so that I might study her get-up.
"Better than the boy, eh?" laughed Mrs. Fischer.
"It's wonderful. I should have passed her in the street with that shawl
over her head."
"It's how the workgirls wear it."
"Look at my boots, Jack," cried Nessa, holding up a foot. "Aren't they
just lovely?" Great clumsy thick-soled things they were.
"Her own were just danger signals. But she'll do as she is. Now, I've
told my servants you're old friends of mine, and that you'll be here
till to-morrow morning. You had better not go out. A day's rest and a
long night's sleep won't hurt either of you;" and with that she hurried
away.
"Isn't she a dear old soul? She's been mothering me up there, as if she
couldn't do enough for me, and ransacked every nook and cranny to fish
out these things."
"She's a very shrewd old party, too."
"And are you proud of your wife, or sister, whichever I'm going to be?"
"Which would you prefer?"
"Don't be silly. Don't you think this is ripping? And she's been
drilling me about how to behave. I think she's wonderful."
"What sort of drilling was it?"
"No end of things. How to eat; what to do; how to walk; always to have
my knitting in hand; not to talk to strangers, especially women; one or
two phrases I was to use; how to carry my market basket; a regular
rehearsal of everything, and we're to have another this evening. Look
at my hands;" and she held them out.
"I saw your nails when you put the tray on the table."
"Yes, but look how she's managed to make them coarse. We scrubbed them
all over with bath brick and then rubbed in the dirt. They're smarting,
as if they were chapped. And look at my hair, plastered right down on
my head. Did you ever see such a fright as I am? And then this bunchy
business on my hips;" and she laughed as she looked at herself in the
glass.
"That all?"
"Not a bit of it. There was a regular lecture on the proper behaviour
of working men's wives; sort of fetch and carry dogs with the tails
always between their legs and never a wag except when the master
condescends to give them a nod or so."
"Going to do it all?"
She was fingering her hair and started, glancing sharply at me in the
glass. "Sisters don't, by any means. But I know that tone of yours. You
mean something. What is it?"
"Mrs. Fischer told me she had been giving you some hints."
She paused and then turned and faced me, putting her hands behind her
back with her head thrown well back--a pose I knew well. "I think I
know what you mean and I'm not going to do it, Jack."
"Do what?"
"Innocent! But it's no use, Jack, I won't."
"Very well."
"You don't mean that a bit. I know. You mean just the opposite. It's
about my getting over the frontier alone. Isn't that it?"
"She said something to me about it."
"Of course. She tried all she knew to persuade me and now she's been at
you, of course. I'm ready to listen to you; but I warn you it won't
make a pennorth of difference."
"Very well."
"Oh, don't 'very well' me in that tone. You don't expect me to desert
you when you've done all this and got into this mess solely for me, do
you?" she cried vehemently.
"We won't worry over it now; but there's just one point you might keep
in mind. It may turn out to be necessary for my safety. What then?"
Her face clouded at that. "How could that be?" she asked.
"We can answer that better later on," I said with a shrug. "But if it
should be?"
"Did Mrs. Fischer say anything about that to you?"
I nodded. "Said it might be easy enough for you to get over, but very
risky for us both to try it together. Suggested that if you held out I
had better get a berth at Ellendorf; but there's the question of my
leave. It's nearly up, and either you or I must be able to wire
explanations from Holland within the next day or two."
"I never thought of that. What would happen?"
"Possibly nothing; but it doesn't help a man to play the absentee.
They've a nasty term for that in the army."
"You always mean such a lot when you speak in that casual tone of
yours," she exclaimed. "Of course, if my stopping meant any sort of
trouble to you, it would be different. Nothing else would make me go.
And if you're only saying it to force me you're--well, it's cowardly
and you ought to be ashamed to do it."
"Well, think it over, and we'll see how the cat jumps. I promise you
this, faithfully, I won't ask you to do it if it isn't necessary."
She paused and then came and laid a hand on my shoulder. "You won't ask
me to go unless it's necessary for your sake, will you, Jack? It would
be awful for me to feel that you were left here in danger. I know
you're thinking all about me and not about yourself, and--oh, Jack, I
don't believe I could bear it."
"We won't worry any more about it till the time comes. I think it's
splendid of you to want to stick it, but it's better to tell you;" and
we let the matter drop.
But Nessa did worry about it exceedingly for the rest of the day. She
spoke very little and appeared to have lost interest in things; and
just before she was going to bed she came with a suggestion that we
should make at least one attempt to cross the frontier together. I
yielded very reluctantly, as it meant the hash of a great part of our
plans. But she was so downcast, so troubled, and pleaded with such
wistful earnestness, that I hadn't the heart to refuse.
Mrs. Fischer declared it was rank madness; that if we tried it, we
mustn't go near her brother-in-law; and that we had better go straight
to Ellendorf.
Nessa was in much better spirits early the next morning when we bade
good-bye to our new friend.
"How are we to repay you for all this?" I asked.
"It isn't money you mean, is it?" she asked, almost indignantly,
although she was so affected at parting from us that the tears were in
her kind motherly eyes.
"No money could repay all your kindness and help."
"Then don't offer it to me. Sure, it's enough that we're all of the
same blood, and all I'll want is to know that you get home safe and
sound. I'd like to know that," she said wistfully. "Sure my heart's
still over there. There, be off with you, or I'll be making a fool of
myself."
"I'll write to you, Mrs. Fischer," said Nessa, kissing her.
"Not on your life, child. It's in gaol I'd be in no time, the divils
that they all are!" she exclaimed, relapsing into English.
"We'll manage to let you know," I promised, shaking her hand warmly;
and we were turning to leave the room when Nessa had a most happy
thought.
"We'll send you a sprig of shamrock, dear."
The thought of it broke the dear soul up entirely. "Oh, the blessed
darlin'!" she cried, seizing Nessa and kissing her again. "What my ould
eyes would give for a sight of it!" and she burst into a passion of
sobs. "Go now, go, the pair of ye, or I'll----" Sobs choked her
utterance and she leant her head on the table, motioning us to go.
Nessa touched my arm and we stole out, both of us deeply moved by the
emotion which Nessa's offer had stirred in the heart of the lonely
Irish exile.