Yes, he meant it.  His very fierceness, eloquent of frazzled nerves, was proof conclusive.  With another thrill, triumphant this time, I recognized my chance.  His campaign, instead of going according to specifications, had been interfered with; his position was dangerous; he had no time to lose; for all he knew, at any point along the road his masquerade might have been suspected, the authorities notified, vengeance put on his track.  In desperation he meant to risk my denouncing him, use me till he reached the Front trenches and his friends there, and then, no doubt, get rid of me.  What he couldn’t guess was that I would have turned the earth upside down to make this opportunity that he was offering me on a silver tray.

“Oh, I’ll oblige you,” I assured him with what must have seemed insane cheerfulness.  “I’ll oblige you, Her von Blenheim, with all the pleasure in the world.  If you really want me, that is.  If my presence won’t make you nervous.  Aren’t you afraid, for instance, that I might be tempted to share my knowledge of your name and your profession with the first French soldiers we meet?”

“As to that, we will take our chances.”  Blenheim’s face was adamant, though my suggestion had produced a not entirely enlivening effect on his two friends.  “You see, Mr. Bayne, in this business the risks will be mostly yours.  There will be no flights of stairs to dart up and no tables to over turn and no candles to extinguish; you will sit in the tonneau with a man beside you, a very watchful man, and a pistol against your side.  You don’t want to die, do you?  I thought not, since you surrendered those papers.  Well, then, you’ll be wise not to say a word or stir a muscle.  And now we are in a hurry.  Will you make your toilet, please?”

It was the bizarre curtain scene of what I had called an extravaganza.  Blenheim’s confederates, taking no special pains for gentleness, stripped off the outer garments of the prostrate Schwartzmann, who moaned and groaned throughout the process, though he never opened his eyes.  Blenheim urged haste upon us; he was getting more fidgety every instant; he bit his lip, drummed with his fingers, kept an ear cocked, as if expecting to hear pursuers at the door.  Still, he neglected no precautions.  He demanded my revolver.  I surrendered it amiably, and then doffed my chauffeur’s outfit and took, from a social standpoint, a gratifying step upward, donning one by one the insignia of France.

The fit was not perfect by any means.  Schwartzmann was a giant, a mountain.  My feet swished aloud groggily in his burnished putties; his garments hung round me in ample, rather than graceful, folds.  However, the loose cape of horizon blue resembled charity in covering defects.  As a dummy, sitting motionless in the rear of the automobile, my captors felt that I would pass.