I turned to meet it, and to my intense relief saw Hans standing by the two ladies. "Come on, Hans," I called, and he was by my side in a jiffy. We had a rough and tumble for a few seconds in which he joined like a brick, and then relief arrived. We heard the sound of horses, with the jingle of accoutrements, and the next moment a small troop of cavalry turned the corner of the street, and we left the rest of the proceedings to them. They soon scattered the mob, who fled in all directions except ours, and the street was quickly cleared, leaving the car the one conspicuous feature in the foreground.
As the chauffeur was nowhere to be seen and the old lady couldn't walk, I sent Hans back to her and went to see if the car had been much damaged. It had certainly been in the wars; stripped of everything, even to the cushions, but the engine was all right, so I started it, climbed in, and backed to the spot where the ladies were.
Then it flashed suddenly on me what an ass I was making of myself to let any one see that I knew anything about cars; but it was too late to make a pretence now, and I consoled myself with the reflection that there was no need to let the people know who I was.
But there I reckoned without Hans. The mother had sufficiently recovered to get up, and was speaking to him when I reached them, while Hans and the daughter were casting sheep's eyes at each other in a fashion which told tales. They were evidently old friends, and a little bit more; and I wasn't, therefore, surprised when the mother knew me as Lassen, Hans' cousin.
She was awfully sweet and grateful and the tears trembled in her eyes as she thanked me, holding my hand in both of hers, declaring that both she and her daughter owed me their lives, and making so much of the matter, that I had to chip in with a suggestion that she had better get home as soon as possible.
"But how?" she exclaimed hopelessly. "Where's Wilhelm?"
But Wilhelm, evidently the chauffeur, was nowhere to be seen; and there was nothing for it but to volunteer to drive the car myself.
All this time friend Hans had been making the best of his opportunity with the daughter, who also thanked me profusely when I had helped her mother into the car.
"Where am I to drive?" I asked as I took the wheel.
"Hans knows the way," suggested the daughter, with the faintest little flush of confusion as she hazarded the suggestion. He grinned.