There was a little difficulty and I held my breath. It was a matter of seconds now; seconds which meant life or death to me.
Fortunately Max knew his job thoroughly and knew the bus also and its little peculiarities. He got her going, just as the horn sounded once more and an officer, followed by a couple of soldiers and police, came running round the corner of the buildings and out towards us, shouting furiously and waving their arms.
I shoved the lever and the bus began to move.
"It's Captain Schiller; he's waving to us to stop," cried Harden.
It was just too late. "He'll be able to see me start," I called over my shoulder. "Give him my love and tell him he ought to have been here sooner."
"What do you mean?" shouted Harden.
"He'll know," I yelled. The noise of the engine probably drowned the words, for she was running sweetly; the bus lifted like a bird in reply to the touch of the controls; and I was off.
Not without a cheering salute from the captain, however. I wasn't far away before a bullet grazed the edge of the right plane, and glancing round I saw his soldiers emptying their magazines in the hope of satisfying his loving desire to embrace me.
They were tremendously busy. But it's no easy job to bring a bus down with a rifle bullet, and the majority of Bosches are mighty poor shots; so I didn't worry about it, began to climb, pointing for the frontier, and was soon out of range.
My last glimpse earthwards showed me a little group of dots hurrying to and fro excitedly, like a number of disturbed ants infuriated by the ruin of their nest.