He went up to the guards and I could just make out their figures as he stood talking to them; and presently he disappeared into the darkness through the gate. A minute or two later some shots were fired from the other side of the barrier; soon afterwards a loaded wagon came dashing from that side, the three horses galloping at full stretch, and a man I took to be Fischer jumped from it.
An exhibition of organization followed. A number of men sprang up from nowhere; the wagon was unloaded almost instantly; and they scuttled off into the night with cases and barrels and packages of all descriptions and sizes. It was done like a flash; and the wagon was galloped back across the frontier. It had just disappeared when an officer rode up, presumably to learn the cause of the firing. Just then Fischer rejoined us, out of breath, but hugely pleased.
"A near thing," he panted. "If that officer had been a minute earlier he'd have commandeered the lot. He's a swinehound. You must lie doggo till he's gone; but it's all right. Fritz will give you the tip. You're to go forward the moment you hear him whistling 'The Watch on the Rhine.' Don't lose a second. Give him a twenty-mark note; it's for his two pals. And now I can't stop with you, I must see to things. I'll wait for you at the car."
"What was that firing?" I asked as he turned away.
"To fool the Dutch officers," he said over his shoulder as he went.
Nessa's intention was still a riddle. She stood leaning against a tree, motionless as a statue and up to this point as silent. But the time had come when I must know what she meant to do.
"You're going, Nessa?" I whispered.
No answer; not even a shrug of the shoulders.
"Nessa, dear, you're going?"
"Are you?"