"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.