"The real difficulty is to get outside the gate," Ralph said, thoughtfully. "After that, I should have no fear."
"What are you thinking of doing, then?" Christine asked.
"I was thinking of dressing Percy, and myself, in the clothes of young peasants; and putting Tim into something of the same sort, with a great bandage round his face. Then I should say that we were two lads, from some place near the frontier, who had come here to meet our uncle; who had had his jaw shattered, in battle. That would explain Tim's not being able to talk at all; and as to looks, he is red enough for a German, anywhere."
"Yes," Christine said, "that would do, very well; but of course, you would be liable to be asked for papers."
"Of course," Ralph said, "but we must risk something."
"I have an idea," Christine said, suddenly, clapping her hands. "I have some cousins living at Wiesbaden. These are three boys, and I am sure they would do anything for me. I will go out to Wiesbaden, tomorrow, and ask them to lend me their papers, just for one day. Wiesbaden is not your way, at all; but for that very reason you would get out more easily there, and be less likely to be suspected, or followed. You could cross the Rhine somewhere near Saint Goar.
"I shall have to tell some sad stories to my cousins, and coax them a great deal. Still, I daresay I shall succeed; and then you can go boldly across the bridge, and into the railway station, and take a ticket for Wiesbaden. You can have an envelope, ready directed, and put the papers into the post there."
"The very thing, Christine. You are a darling!" Ralph exclaimed, catching her by the waist and kissing her, before she had time to think of resistance.
"I shan't do anything at all for you," Christine said, laughing and blushing, "if you misbehave in that way."
"I couldn't help it, Christine--not even if your mother had been looking on.