It was about six o'clock when we pulled up outside the hotel at Osnabrück, so we had no time to waste over food. We had eaten nothing all day, but now we were able to buy some bread and cheese to eat en route. We were terribly dusty, and to save my own new coat, Kitty kindly lent me an old one of hers. It was bright rose-colour, and made me rather conspicuous as I took my turn on the little seat.
The first important place after Osnabrück was Rheine, and there, for the first time in the day, I began to wonder how things were going to turn out. Before we knew where we were, we were stopped by soldiers and mobbed by a dense, excited crowd. Even the wonderful paper did not have its usual effect. I was told I must proceed to headquarters before we could continue our journey, so I got out of the car, but when I saw the rabble which intended to accompany me, I told the two soldiers who were my escort that I should prefer walking arm-in-arm with them, and off we set, greatly to our own amusement and that of the mob which followed at our heels, yelling, "Russian! Russian criminal!"
When we reached the railway station I was taken before the superior arbiter of our fate. He was a serious individual, and read the precious document very carefully. Then came the usual fiat: "You may go further."
Great disappointment of the following crowd—a disappointment communicated to the unpleasant loafers who had continued to surge round the automobile in my absence. One of them had climbed on to the back and hit Lyra's hat twice, but she had been very calm, and kept her temper. When our innocence was made known the excitement died down, and we departed amidst cheers 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 afforded so much amusement during the tour. A ponderous policeman pounced upon it. "Please give me my little bag," wailed Kitty. "Let me open it and show you the contents."
The man did not understand her words, but he did understand her gesture as she stretched out her hands for the precious bag. He pushed her back roughly. Did this dangerous woman think he was going to allow her to throw a bomb in this her moment of despair? He rushed off into the crowd, gave the infernal machine to some one else to hold, and we saw it no more.
The luggage was all dismounted, and three wooden chairs were brought for us to sit on while the examination took place. That scene will always stand out in our minds with theatrical vividness. Flaring electric lights lit up the road. There was a dense crowd of officials and loafers, and beyond, blackness. One or two men came up and talked.