“I am going over to the mainland,” returned Johann, turning around and bending backward against the wind that caught him with full force where he stood.
“Then wait,” said Billy; “I am going with you. When does the boat start?”
“She is not going out today, the wind is too bad,” was the reply. “I have just been to ask her captain.”
“Then how are you going?” asked Billy, “and, Johann—why do you go?”
The lad looked down, shuffled his feet uneasily and seemed at a loss for an answer.
“And when are you coming back?” Billy pursued. “Tell me, I must know.”
“I am never coming back,” Johann broke forth with sudden vehemence. “Do you not see, can you not understand? Those Germans they are bringing in will be tried and I will have to testify. Every one will hear of it, will know how Johann Happs, of Appledore, let them tempt him, let them try to drive him, nearly let them carry him away to fight for Germany. Will any person ever trust me again, think you? When I wish to serve my country, my own country, and offer myself, will they not say, ‘Ah, you are Johann Happs; no, no, we take no such men as you.’ So I am going away to lose myself, to change my name, to be an American with no memory of what my father was. Those men who are to be tried will be convicted anyway. Harvey Jarreth, Captain Saulsby, you, can all give evidence enough for that. There will be no need for Johann Happs, so he is going to vanish forever.”
“I could stop you,” said Billy slowly. “I ought to stop you. Do you think I ought to, Johann?”
“I have been weak and a coward,” the other replied, “but somehow in this night I have learned to be a man. Would you rob me of my chance to prove it? Will you not believe in me and let me go?”
Billy thought harder for a moment than he had ever thought in his life before.