Part 69

“I shall try to return to Dover to-morrow. I should only be in your way here.”

“In that case, we should not see each other again before you leave?”

“You said yourself that there was little chance of that.”

“I am not my own master, and this information--”

“No excuse is necessary; no regard for me should hinder you in the performance of your official duties. Once again then, good-bye, my dear, my beloved friend! May Heaven protect you!”

She flung herself on his breast and kissed him; but only for a few seconds did her soft arm linger round his neck. She did not wish to give way, and yet she felt that she would not be able to control herself much longer. She hurriedly picked up her oilskin cape from the floor and seized her fisherman’s hat. Heideck fervently desired to say something affectionate and tender, but his throat seemed choked as it were by an invisible hand; he could only utter, in a voice that sounded cold and dry, the words, “Farewell, my love! farewell!”

When he heard the door close behind her, he started up impetuously, as if he meant to rush after her and call her back. But after the first step he stood still and pressed his clenched left hand upon his violently beating heart. His face, as if turned to stone, wore an expression of inflexible resolution, and the corners of his mouth were marked by two deep, sharp lines, as if within this single hour he had aged ten years.

XXX

EDITH’S LAST JOURNEY

Skipper Brandelaar had given Edith the name of the inn near the harbour, where he expected a message from Heideck in the course of the night; for he felt certain that the Major would be anxious to speak to him as soon as possible.

But he was considerably surprised when, instead of the messenger he expected, he saw his beautiful disguised passenger enter the low, smoke-begrimed taproom. He went to meet Edith with a certain clumsy gallantry, to shield her from the curiosity and importunities of the men seated with him at the table, whose weatherbeaten faces inspired as little confidence as their clothing, which smelt of tar and had suffered badly from wind and weather.

Utterly surprised, he was going to question Edith, but she anticipated him.

“I must get back to Dover to-night,” she said hurriedly, in a low tone. “Will you take me across? I will pay you what you ask.”

The skipper shook his head slowly, but resolutely.

“Impossible. Even if I could leave again, it couldn’t be done in such weather.”

“It must be done. The weather is not so bad, and I know you are not the man to be afraid of a storm.”

“Afraid--no! Very likely I have weathered a worse storm than this with my smack. But there is a difference between the danger a man has to go through when he cannot escape it, and that to which he foolishly exposes himself. When I am on a journey, then come what pleases God, but--”

“No more, Brandelaar,” interrupted Edith impatiently. “If you cannot, or will not go yourself, surely one of your acquaintances here is brave and smart enough to earn a couple of hundred pounds without any difficulty.”

The skipper’s little eyes twinkled.

“A couple of hundred pounds? Is it really so important for you to leave Flushing to-day? We have hardly landed!”

“Yes, it is very important. And I have already told you that I don’t care how much it costs.”

The skipper, who had evidently begun to waver, rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“H’m! Anyhow, I couldn’t do it myself. I have important information for the Herr major, and he would have a right to blame me, if I went away without even so much as speaking to him. But perhaps--perhaps I might find out a skipper who would take the risk, provided that I got something out of it for myself.”

“Of course, of course! I don’t want a favour from you for nothing. You shall have fifty pounds the moment I set foot in the boat.”

“Good! And two hundred for the skipper and his men? The men are risking their lives, you mustn’t forget that. Besides, they will have to manage confoundedly cleverly to get past the German guardships unnoticed.”

“Yes, yes! Why waste so much time over this useless bargaining? Here is the money--now get me a boat.”

“Go in there,” said Brandelaar, pointing to the door of a little dark side room. “I will see whether my friend Van dem Bosch will do it.”

Before complying with Brandelaar’s suggestion, Edith glanced at the man whom he had indicated with a movement of his head. Externally this robust old sea-dog was certainly not attractive, but his alarming appearance did not make Edith falter in her resolution for a moment.