“You won’t catch any Deutschers fooling Mary Prendergast,” said the jovial lady in the bed; “but, children, what next?”

Monica spoke—­quite calmly.  She was always perfectly self-possessed.

“My brother is stopping with me in our apartment in the Bendler-Strasse,” she said.  “You remember Gerry, Des—­he got all smashed up flying, you know, and is practically a cripple.  He’s been so much better here that I’ve been trying to get an attendant to look after him, to dress him and so on, but we couldn’t find anybody; men are so scarce nowadays!  You could come home with me, Des, and take this man’s place for a day or two ...  I’m afraid it couldn’t be longer, for one would have to register you with the police—­every one has to be registered, you know—­and I suppose you have no papers that are any good—­now.”

“You are too kind, Monica,” I answered, “but you risk too much and I can’t accept.”

“It’s no risk for a day or two,” she said.  “I am a person of consequence in official Germany, you know, with my husband A.D.C. to Marshal von Mackensen:  and I can always say I forgot to send in your papers.  If they come down upon me afterwards I should say I meant to register you but had to discharge you suddenly ... for drink!”

“But how can I get away from here?” I objected.

“I guess we can fix that too,” she replied.  “My car is coming for me at two—­it must be that now—­I have been at a dance downstairs—­one of the Radolin girls is getting married to-morrow—­it was so deadly dull I ran up here and woke up Mary Prendergast to talk.  You shall be my chauffeur!  I know you drive a car!  You ought to be able to manage mine ... it’s a Mercedes.”

“I can drive any old car,” I said, “but I’m blessed ...”

“Wait there!” cried this remarkable girl, and ran out of the room.

For twenty minutes I stood and made small talk with Miss Prendergast.  They were the longest twenty minutes I have ever spent.  I was dead tired in any case, but my desperate position kept my thoughts so busy that, for all my endeavours to be polite, I fear my conversation was extremely distraught.

“You poor boy!” suddenly said Miss Mary Prendergast, totally ignoring a profound remark I was making regarding Mr. Wilson’s policy, “don’t you go on talking to me!  Sit down on that chair and go to sleep!  You look just beat!”

I sat down and nodded in the arm-chair.

Suddenly I was awake.  Monica stood before me.  She drew from under her cape a livery cap and uniform.

“Put these things on,” she said, “and listen carefully.  When you leave here, turn to the right and take the little staircase you will find on the right.  Go down to the bottom, go through the glass doors, and across the room you will find there, to a door in a corner which leads to the ballroom entrance of the hotel.  I will give you my ermine wrap to carry.  I shall be waiting there.  You will help me on with my cloak and escort me to the car.  Is that clear?”