FARMER GLOCKEN AGAIN
This "Hue and Cry" poster alarmed Nessa intensely. Her fears were all
on my account, however; and so far as concerned herself, she did not
even then seem to regret that her chance to cross the frontier had been
missed.
As we hurried to Fischer's I tried to reassure her that the trouble was
not so serious as it looked at first blush; for the reason that the
photograph of her was so good that no one would recognize her in her
present make-up, while mine was execrable enough to amount to a
positive disguise. But this did not allay her agitation; and after we
reached the house, there was no opportunity for further discussion.
We both realized that the consequences might be very serious; and after
she had gone to bed, I sat racking my wits over the perplexing problem.
It was either von Erstein's doing or von Gratzen's; and in the end I
put it down to von Erstein, whose influence was quite sufficient to
enable him to stir up the police in this manner.
For me there was only the risk of arrest and trial for the murder;
hugely unpleasant, of course, but not dangerous, because von Gratzen
knew who had killed the woman and had the proofs. It was very different
for Nessa, however, although she had, of course, nothing to fear in
connection with the murder charge. But she would certainly be kept in
the country; and Heaven alone knew what the consequences would be and
what price she might have to pay for her fatal hesitation at the
frontier that night.
I had no chance of speaking to her about it until about noon the
following day when Fischer sent her with some lunch for me to the shed
where I had put his car into shape again. As the "staff"--the gawky lad
and the decrepit old man--were present, it was difficult to say much to
her, but I managed at intervals to let her know what I thought.
To my concern, however, she was determined to stay in the country.
Instead of regretting her refusal to go, she appeared to glory in it.
If there was to be trouble for me, she was resolved to share it,
declaring that she could help me by confessing her part.
I was still doing what I could to shake this determination and show her
the fallacy of it, when there was another unpleasant surprise.
Fischer arrived bringing the farmer Glocken whose motor I had mended at
Osnabrueck. If there was one man in all Germany I wished to avoid at
that moment, it was certainly Glocken.
"Hullo! so it's you, is it?" he exclaimed.
Fischer was obviously as much astonished at the recognition as I was
concerned. "You know Bulich, then?" he asked.
Glocken paused and appeared to sense something of the position and
answered with a cunning squint at me: "I know him for a first-class
workman."
"You're right," agreed Fischer, and then explained the object of the
visit. Glocken was in the smuggling ring and looked after a very
important and profitable branch--the smuggling of chemicals for
ammunition. These were brought by aeroplane; it being deemed too risky
to resort to the ordinary method. A consignment had arrived the
previous evening, the pilot, a Dutchman named Vandervelt, had had an
accident in landing, and I was wanted to put the thing right.
There was no way of getting out of it, and what objection there might
have been was more than compensated for when Fischer drew me aside and
told me he had arranged with Glocken that if my sister would venture
the flying trip, she could go with the Dutchman. I agreed without
asking Nessa; and as Fischer's car was now ready for the road we drove
away in it.
Glocken sat in front with me and promptly started his questions. Very
awkward questions some of them were too: about our former meeting; why
I had not mentioned I knew Mrs. Fischer at the inn; why I had said I
was coming from Osnabrueck, when old Fischer had told him a very
different story; and at last enough to show that he had seen the murder
poster and was inclined to connect it with me.
Having in this way thoroughly scared me, as he thought, he broached the
subject of Nessa's flight and asked what it was worth, hinting that
Vandervelt was something of a bloodsucker. I had still an ample supply
of money; about a couple of hundred pounds, some four thousand marks;
and being prepared to part with every pfennig to get Nessa away, it was
a considerable relief to find that it was to be a matter of bribing.
"Couple of hundred marks, enough?" I suggested.
"You don't know Vandervelt, or you wouldn't offer a trifle like that,"
he said, shaking his head.
"How much then? I'm not yet a partner in Krupp's, remember."
"What's it worth to you?"
"Fischer was going to do it for nothing last night. He's almost as
sorry for my sister as I am."
"Vandervelt isn't Fischer," he replied drily. "Doesn't a thousand marks
strike you as cheap?" he said with a wily significant leer. That was
the amount of the reward!
"Out of the question, Glocken. She must have something in her pocket
when she lands; and in any case Fischer's going to arrange it in a day
or so."
"Hadn't she better be off at once? Delays are apt to be dangerous
sometimes, you know."
"Why?" I asked, turning to him.
Our eyes met in a mutually intent stare, and his dropped first. "You
know your own business," he muttered with a shrug. "But you'd better
give the thousand, if you want her to go."
It was clearly best to haggle, so I advanced to five hundred, then to
seven hundred and fifty, and at last to a thousand, protesting it was
an imposition. He pretended to fire up at the word; but it was only the
preface to asking for the money to be paid at once.
It was all going into his own pocket, of course; and after more words I
agreed to give him half the amount when we reached his farm if I found
my sister would risk the venture, and the remainder as soon as she was
safely off.
I broached the matter to Nessa as soon as we arrived, and she met it at
first with a flat refusal. "I won't go, Jack. I thought something of
the sort was meant when you asked me to come here. I don't care what
happens to me. I can't go."
"But I want you to care, Nessa. It's----"
"Well, I don't--and I won't."
"You're not afraid of the trip?"
"I'm not that sort of coward, thank you," she retorted sharply.
"I'm going to arrange with the pilot, Vandervelt's his name, for him to
look after you when you land and see you to some station."
"I'm not taking the least interest in all this."
"You'd better book right through to Rotterdam and go to our Consulate,
and I'll look for you there."
"I'm not going, Jack."
"You'd rather be clapped into an internment camp?"
"I don't care for fifty internment camps. They can do what they please
with me, but I won't be coward enough to desert you."
"You can tell everything at the Consulate and----"
"Is that a Home for strayed cowards?" she cried, springing up and
stamping her foot, her eyes flashing indignantly.
"No, it's the best meeting place for us and a safe refuge for quixotic
girls."
"They're welcome to it, then. I shan't disturb them. If you wish to
make me hate you, you'll persist in all this."
"I'd rather have you hate me than that you should stop here."
"How can you say such a thing as that?"
"Because I mean it; every syllable of it, Nessa, on my honour."
This appeared to make some impression. She winced and paled slightly.
"I've never been thought a coward before," she said after a pause, but
without so much of the former snap.
"What I do think is that if what you talk of doing is cowardice, I'd
rather be thought a coward than anything else."
"That means that you approve of it then?"
"On the contrary. Don't let us get at cross purposes. I must be off to
this job. The thing is this. If I'm alone here, I can get through
everything without risk; and I can't if you stop. It's splendid of you
to wish to stick it with me; but it'll be fatal to me; fatal to both of
us, indeed."
"I don't care about myself."
"Then care for me. Do it for my sake."
"How would my stopping hurt you?"
I lost patience then. "There isn't time to go over it all again, Nessa.
But if you persist in this, there's no use in continuing a useless
struggle to get away. I've made the arrangement; and if you won't
leave, I shall go straight from here to the police, tell them I'm
Lassen, and leave them to do what they will."
"You wouldn't be so mad! You're only saying it to force me to give in,"
she exclaimed, firing again.
"Call it what you like; but I shall do it. Keep that in mind when the
time comes for you to decide;" and without waiting to give her time to
reply I left her. It went against the grain to have to use such a
threat, knowing that her motive was nothing but a chivalrous regard for
me; but persuasion had failed, and matters were too serious to be over
nice in the choice of means to convince her.
There wasn't much wrong with the bus. Vandervelt, a very decent fellow,
was a good pilot, it seemed, but not much use as a mechanic. A couple
of hours or so sufficed for the job; but as I hoped that Nessa would be
his passenger, I went most carefully over every part and made tests
until I was satisfied. This occupied a considerable time, so that I had
not finished until late in the afternoon.
The arrangement was that Vandervelt should start about sunset, as that
would give him time to reach his landing place before dark. He agreed
readily to get Nessa to the nearest station and to see her safely off
for Rotterdam. If all went well, she ought to reach there somewhere
about noon the following day.
He said nothing about the passage money for Nessa, and I avoided the
subject. So long as Nessa got away, it was nothing to me whether old
Glocken swindled his companion or not. They could settle their own
differences; and it would have been the act of a fool to set them by
the ears at such a moment.
All I saw of the farmer tended to confirm the Irish-woman's estimate of
him. He had blackmailed me in the matter of the payment for Nessa, and
I had very little doubt that, having scooped in a thousand marks for
her, he would start another attempt with me on the same lines.
He watched me at work for most of the time; joined with Vandervelt in
praising my skill; repeating with unnecessary frequency something about
what extraordinary good luck it was for them that I had come to Lingen,
and his hope that I should remain with them a long time.
He didn't mean a word of it, of course, and for a long time left me
guessing as to his motive for all this waste of breath. At length,
however, it struck me that all this rot was intended to keep me
slogging away because he was anxious about the bus and that he wished
to have it in good shape before something was to happen which he had up
his sleeve.
He had my five hundred marks in his pocket, and, if he broke the
contract and refused to let Nessa go at the last minute, he might be
getting the thousand for the reward instead of only the balance of five
hundred from me. I knocked that little dodge on the head, therefore.
Waiting for a repetition of his oxish praise of my skill, I laughed and
said: "You're right, farmer; you've got to know how to handle them.
They're difficult enough to repair sometimes, but easy to damage. A
blow or two with the hammer in the right spot, and I could make this
old bus fit for nothing but the scrap heap;" and I gave him a meaning
look and raised the hammer as if going to smash things.
He tumbled to my meaning right enough and grabbed my arm. "Mind what
you're doing, man. Do you know what that thing cost?" he cried.
"Oh, yes. A good deal more than a thousand marks. I was only showing
you how easy it would be to make it worth about as many pfennigs."
He laughed uneasily and went off, grunting something I didn't catch.
But he knew now what it would cost him to earn the police reward.
Half an hour later came the confirmation of my suspicion. The police
sergeant from Lingen, Braun, arrived and Glocken took him into the
house and then brought him across the fields to us. I was making great
play with the hammer when they reached us.
Whether the old beggar had brought him there to arrest me, I couldn't
tell of course, but no hint of the sort was dropped; and after a few
questions about the bus, the two went off and I saw Braun start on his
return to Lingen. Without me, thank goodness.
It was now nearing the time for Vandervelt to start, and I had still to
see Nessa and get her final decision. Suspecting treachery, I tested
the engine to show Vandervelt that it was all right, and then without
his knowledge, manipulated matters, pocketed a small bit of the engine,
so that she wouldn't move, and went into the house to Nessa.
Her mood had changed meanwhile; she was abjectly miserable and
woebegone.
"I wonder you think it worth while to come to me again," she said.
"Time's nearly up, dear, and Vandervelt is getting ready."
No response except a desolate gesture.
"I hope you've been thinking over all I said."
"I've been thinking of part of it--the last part; the cruel part."
"I'm sorry you look at it in that light. It wasn't meant to be cruel,
Nessa; but there, you know that. Have you decided?"
"Have you succeeded in forcing me, you mean?"
"I told you no more than the plain truth. The position's bad enough as
it is, without anything more. For me I mean."
"As if I didn't know that! And as if it isn't that which is driving me
distracted!"
"There's no time to go into things again, dear. I said it should rest
with you to decide."
"Yes, and then used threats to force me!"
"I haven't threatened you, Nessa."
"It doesn't matter what you call it. The change of a word doesn't
change the act. It's what you're doing, not what you're saying, that I
care about."
"Are you going? That's what I care about."
"Shall you go to the police if I don't?"
"Certainly."
"Do you understand that it's just breaking my heart to go--unless you
wish to break it?"
"Will you give me a chance of mending it when we meet at Rotterdam?"
She leant back in her chair, elbow on knee, and rested her chin on her
hand. "We shan't meet there."
"Nessa!"
"You will never get there. I shouldn't care so much if----" She dropped
her eyes to the floor and left the sentence unfinished.
I knelt by her side and took her hand. "You must go, dearest," I urged.
She flung her arms round my neck and clung to me. "Don't make me go,
Jack! Don't, if you love me," she pleaded. "I--I can't bear the thought
of leaving you."
"It's because I do love you with all my heart that I wish you to go.
It's the only way in which our love can ever end as we wish." I pressed
my lips to hers. She was trembling like an aspen.
"Bulich! Bulich! Are you ready?" It was the farmer's voice, and Nessa
shuddered convulsively at the sound.
"You'll do this for me, dearest?"
"Oh, God, if there were only some other way!" she moaned.
"There isn't, sweetheart. It's the only one in which you can really
help me. We shall meet again in a day or two. That's all."
"I shall never see you again."
"You may not unless you go. You're ready?"
Her grasp tightened on me and she did not answer.
"Bulich! Bulich!" came Glocken's voice again, more insistently.
"In a minute now," I called in reply.
"How shall I ever know what happens to you?"
"I'll tell you all about it myself in Rotterdam; we shall just laugh
over it together."
"Laugh!" she echoed. "I shall never laugh again. I shan't be able to
bear the suspense, Jack. I know I shan't. I shall come back."
"Well, give me a week's grace, before you do."
"I may come back then?" she asked, looking up quickly.
I knew that she would not be allowed to recross the frontier; but it
seemed a case where the truth would do no good. "Yes," I said.
"Promise?"
"If you won't come earlier."
"Oh, what a week of suspense it will be!" she moaned.
"Come along, Bulich. Vandervelt's getting restless," called Glocken.
"I'll go, Jack." It was no more than a whisper, but it meant so much.
Of her own dear will she kissed me again and again with more passion
than she had ever shown, and then made a desperate effort for
composure. "What an end to our picnic, Jack!" she said, trying to
smile. A brave effort, but a failure; and she began to tremble again,
closing her eyes and clenching her hands tightly under the searching
strain of it, and turned away.
For a full minute she stood in this tense silence, until Glocken called
again. The sound of his voice roused her, and when she faced me again,
she had regained self-control.
"I'm ready, Jack," she said steadily.
I pushed some notes into her pocket.
"What's that?"
"Money. You must have it, dearest," I said, as she seemed about to
protest. "And now, good-bye, for a day or two."
"Good-bye. Don't kiss me, or I shall break down again;" and with that
we went down to the two men who were impatiently waiting for us.
"You've been a long time," said Glocken in a surly tone. "There's
something gone wrong with the machine."
"How do you know?"
"I tried to start," said Vandervelt. "Glocken told me your sister had
decided not to go with me."
"That was a misunderstanding. I forgot I had this in my pocket;" and I
showed them the little part I had brought away. "Rather lucky, wasn't
it, Glocken?"
He looked as if he would gladly have struck me, and muttered something
about being sorry for the mistake.
Nessa did not speak a word as we crossed the fields, dropping a pace or
two behind us, and keeping her eyes on the ground. She could scarcely
have been more dejected had she been on her way to the scaffold.
I repeated the instructions to Vandervelt about Nessa, and again he
promised to carry them out faithfully. When we reached the bus a minute
or two put her in trim again, and I made a final test of the engine.
Then I got down, helped Nessa into her place, fastened the strap round
her, and held her hand while the Dutchman climbed to his seat.
She returned the pressure with a choking sigh, but could not trust
herself to speak.
Then I shook hands with the pilot, thanked him, and at the same time
punished the farmer for his intended treachery. "I know you'll take
good care of my sister, Vandervelt; and don't forget I'm paying Glocken
a thousand marks passage money. Good luck."
"What's that?" he asked sharply.
"You can settle with him on your next trip. You won't get in before
dark if you stop to discuss it now."
"I will," he said, with a muttered oath and a glance at the discomfited
farmer.
Then he set the engine going, we stood back, Nessa waved her hand to
me, and they were off.
I watched the bus across the field, rise, circle round on the climb up,
point her nose frontierwards, and I strained my eyes after her until
she entered a cloud and passed out of sight.