s and waving handkerchiefs.

I shall never forget the next part of the drive. My appearance
produced the same effect everywhere. "Russian! Russian!" was on every
lip. One individual whispered to another, and small groups of people
knotted together and watched us out of sight. At one place a man
jumped on a bicycle and tore off--perhaps to give information. At
first I did not mind, but after a while the situation got on my
nerves. We swung past a man who was guarding a bridge. He wasn't a
real soldier, but he had a gun, and I _know_ he feels that he lost one
of the chances of his life in letting me go, for his look of suspicion
and hatred was unmistakable. Lyra kindly changed places with me,
though she was very tired, and it was a relief to get out of the
popular gaze.

The day was beginning to close in, but a brilliant sun shining through
heavy gray clouds lit up the world for a while like a watchful eye. We
knew we could not be very far from the frontier, and this was
confirmed by an official when we were stopped for the seventeenth
time. He was very friendly, and gave the chauffeur much well-meant
advice. "The actual frontier is at 'Kleine Brucke,'" he said, "but as
no motors may pass and it is getting late, the ladies had better stay
the night at Gronau and go on to Holland to-morrow." This sounded all
right, but we felt we wanted to get out of the country at all costs,
and that a cowshed in Holland was preferable to a grand hotel in
Germany. The magic pass had stood us in such good stead, there could
be no hitch now we had so nearly achieved our aim.

We were so engrossed with the vicinity of safety that not one of us
realized our chauffeur had forgotten to light up. All I remember is
that we seemed suddenly to swoop down on a crowd, the peremptory
"Halt!" rang out sharp and clear, and we came to a sudden standstill.
The car was besieged by officials of every kind, and we all felt the
genuine hostility in the air. A man in plain clothes was chief
spokesman. I handed him the Minden pass, confident of its efficacy,
and to our dismay, he put it in his pocket.

"We are only trying to get into Holland," I explained. "We have our
tickets here for passage in the Rotterdam." "Show them." The tickets
were produced and shared the same fate as the pass. "Get out of the
auto. The luggage is to be examined." We meekly obeyed. There was no
other course to pursue. Kitty clutched at her precious little vanity
bag, which had af