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The Man Without a Memory Part 51

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"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 Ma.s.sen; 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 gla.s.ses 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 pa.s.sed 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 coa.r.s.e. 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 gla.s.s.

"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 gla.s.s. "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."

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The Man Without a Memory Part 51 summary

You're reading The Man Without a Memory. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Arthur W. Marchmont. Already has 529 views.

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