“What are your opinions? Are we to try to cross the frontier to-night or not?” “To-night, by all means to-night!” urged Tynsdale. We were all very much excited, of course. “Time’s getting short! Wait until to-morrow night!” counseled cautious Kent. The decision rested with me. “Time _is_ getting rather short, but we might do it. Question is, can we find cover if we don’t? It must be good, to serve its purpose in the Sperrgebiet. I think we ought to dump everything we can spare, and go forward as fast as possible. We can always alter our minds, until after we get on to the morass.” “Good!” grunted Tynsdale. “As you wish,” Kent gave way gracefully. “Then hurry!” I instructed. Feverishly we went through our impedimenta, thrust the remainder of our biscuits, escapers’ shortbread, chocolate, and such indispensable things as were not already there, into our pockets, and shoved rucksacks, overcoats, raincoats, and everything else underneath the bushes. I knew the map too well to want to look at it long. Had we not spent days studying the stretch in front of us, often with the help of magnifying glasses? “What time, Kent?” “One o’clock.” “Give me exactly half an hour.” Relieved of about thirty pounds in weight, I set the fastest pace in my power downstream, along the river bank. I hoped to find a path there, which was to take us to the “jumping-off place” to the north of us, where I intended to get to the swamp. The path was there. The going was easy, and comparatively safe. Bushes dotted the banks and gave continuous shelter. It cannot be denied that our procedure was risky. We took it for granted that we should not meet any sentries along the river, in spite of our information to the contrary. But slow and careful going seemed equally risky at the time. Only speed could help us across the frontier that night. My decision in favor of trying to bring our venture to an immediate conclusion was wrong. I ought to have seen that it was more than likely that we should find cover along the river. Yet--I don’t know. “The half-hour is over,” said Kent. The river was flowing placidly on our right, swirling softly. Straight across from us a back-water lost itself between tall reeds. This was the spot I had hoped to reach. We filled our water-bottles and drank. Then I slid down the bank, raised here above the surrounding country, and started due west, followed by my companions. Passing a few yards of scattered bushes, with rank grass between them, I plunged into a dense thicket of oak saplings. Pushing and straining, I worked on, in order to get through what I imagined to be a narrow belt. It would not come to an end, but grew thicker instead, finally making progress impossible. In the light of the torch the small trees stood impenetrably close. “Here’s our cover; no time to work round this patch, and no need to, either,” I said. “Well, I’m glad,” commented Kent.