Worcester Democrat and the ledger-enterprise. (Pocomoke City, Md.) 1921-1953, 1936-11-06
CHAPTER V

are all IN order now i nave nau cef-
tain baggage put ashore together
with your belongings. An automobile
is waiting at the pier. Let us say
goodbye to the captain and go ashore"
Captain Murray and Parkins accom-
panied them to a big limousine with
curtained windows Sir Herbert spoke
at length to the chauffeur in German.
you've packed the lunch, Perkins?
We are not stopping anywhere. Good
by, Murray; you have your orders"
A quick handshake and the car start
ed off. They were soon out of the
city, speeding along the main high
way and passing through small ham,
lets at breakneck speedily smoking
factories through towns where throngs
of people forced them to diminish
speed. They shot around Berlin with
out coming in sight of it; stopped at
a garage where the driver took on
gas and oil.
A heavy rain was falling, beating
against the windows, turning the out
side world into gray blur. Night
fell, the car tore along the road, hour
after hour.
They had been riding all day. . :.
The two men had not spoken, the bar
onet deep in thought, Hibeau sleepy,
tired out. From time to time, Sir
Herbert opened hamper, offered the
artist something to eat or drink. He
himself touched nothing, but smoked
necessarily. Two or three times the
car stopped while the chauffeur check
ed his fuel or took a quick meal at
some inn. Nothing was visible in the
pouring rain.
At night, Jean saw that they were
running beside a stream. He fell a.
sleep and, half awake, heard someone
ask for their passports and examine
them by the light Of a lantern. At
midnight Sir Herbert woke Jean, shak
ing him lightly by the shoulder.
eve leave the car here and change
to a train. We're in Riga"
"Riga?" observed the artist with
puzzled air. "Where is that?" For
Jean had only vague knowledge of
geography.
After paying the chauffeur who had
taken them across Germany's widest
part, Sir Herbert led Jean, staggering
with fatigue, to a station, where they
boarded the train. He became fully
awake, for the compartment was not
comfortable ard the train swayed like
ship in storm.
81 must give you a few words of
warning" whispered Sir Herbert.
Here, everyone suspects his neighbour
Think before you speak to me, and do
not use my title. Here l am Her.
bert, or Comrade. Don't use my fam
lily name. 1t is best that you remain
quiet"
Jean had no trouble in obeying the
last order. Frawley leaned back and
closed his eyes. There were eight PEG
pie in the compartment besides them
selves. A huge, fat German with
close-cropped hair, an old woman of
understandable nationality, two young
Polish Jews conversing in Yiddish;
three Asiatics, one of them a woman
with protruding cheek bones and slant
eyes, a bearded Russian, CARRIED in
blouse and boots, wearing fur cap,
his eyes covered with blue goggles.
Putting, the locomotive ran on in
to a dirty gray dawn rising behind
line Of trees. Porters went through
the corridors bearing pots Of steaming
tea. There was stop for passport
inspection; then in full daylight the
train halted for the customs.
Jean had only his musette, Sir Her
bert a big kit bag, the basket of food
had been lett in the automobile. The
customs guards opened the bags.
They spoke to Sir Herbert, first in
Russian, which he did not understand,
then in Frecch. The baronet nonchal
antly cut short their questionings:
Comrades, am an Englishman, trav
cling and studying. My friend here
is an artist, Frenchman."
"You carry no documents?"
''None"
They saluted ard passed on. On
the quai, four men smoking cigarets
and carrying rifles paced slowly up
and down. The formalities took over
an hour, then they changed trains, in
stalled themselves in a compartment
and were off once more.
eve are in Red Russia now, the
Soviet Republic" announced Sir Her
bert.
"Where are we going?"