Within twenty minutes Agna returned. She came into the parlor and gave me a bundle of brown paper and string, and then went out to deliver up her other message. She came back quickly and began to tell me the result of her observations. The best thing was that we were on the right side of the barricade and we should not have to pass it when we started out. But her next bit of information was not so pleasant; it was that according to the automobile signs there were fifty-six miles to Dublin. Still, nothing daunted, we began to transfer our kits from the suitcase to the brown paper. When we had finished we had two tidy-looking bundles much more convenient to carry than the suitcase.
While we were eating our dinner the question arose as to what we should do with the suitcase. We settled it by asking the proprietress to take care of it till we came back from Carlingford. She was quite willing to oblige us, she said, as Agna had been so obliging to her. I then paid the bill and we left the restaurant. I felt rather badly at leaving the suitcase behind me, as it had accompanied me for some ten thousand miles of my travels; it was like abandoning an old friend.
XII
It was about two-thirty on Saturday when we started to walk from Dundalk to Dublin, and when it began to grow dark we were still walking. While we were discussing the problem of where to spend the night, we came upon a barricade. We were in a quandary. What were we to do? We slowed up in our walking but that was no use; we were bound to pass it eventually—or be detained. We had not the slightest idea as to what we should do. We did not know the name of the next village, so we could not say that we were going there. We did not even know the name of the village we were in! What should we do? If we were stopped and searched—I had my revolver and ammunition and Agna wore her uniform under her coat and skirt—enough evidence to have us arrested. However, we put on a brave face and stepped forward bravely towards the barricade. About six yards from it we encountered two strong wires which were stretched across the entire width of the road, one reaching to the chin and the other to the knees. To give the impression that we had passed that way before and that we knew all about the wires, we ducked our heads under the high wire and put our legs over the lower one, then continued our walk to the barricade.
It was in charge of a corporal's guard. As we came abreast the soldiers, evidently thinking that we were country girls doing our Saturday's marketing, made some remark, in a broad Belfast accent, about carrying our bundles for us. In an accent broader than theirs, Agna gave them some flippant answer at which they roared with laughter; and while they were laughing we passed on. Further on we came to the village proper. Not until we saw the sign over the Post Office—"Dunleer P.O."—did we know the name of the village through which we were passing.
As we walked it grew darker. "What will we do—where will we spend the night?" I said to Agna. "There are no hotels about here, and if there were we could not go to them as we would have to register. If we ask at the cottages for a night's lodging they may become suspicious. If we walk all night we may meet military or police patrols, and that would mean that we would be sent to Armagh Jail instead of going to Dublin. What will we do?"
"O, pick out a nice field and spend the night there," said Agna airily.
"It looks as if that is just what we'll have to do," I said ruefully. "Come on and pick one before it gets too dark."