Faked Passports

Dennis Wheatley

Faked Passports

AUTHOR'S NOTE.-Gregory Sallust, who appears in this book, also appears in Black August, but that story Was set in an undated future so, chronologically, this book should be considered as preceding Black August, although the two have no relation whatsoever except in that he appears in both.

With regard to the present series, the sequence of titles is as follows: -The Scarlet impostor, Faked Passports, The Black Baroness, V for Vengeance, and Come Into my Parlour. Each volume is a complete story in itself, but the series covers Gregory's activities from September the 3rd, 1939 to December the 12th, 1941. Against an unbroken background incorporating all the principal events of the first two and a quarter years of the Second World War.

Gregory also appears in Contraband, an international smuggling story of 1937, and The Island Where Time Stands Still, an adventure in the South Seas and Communist China during the year 1954.

Chapter I

The Backwash of the Bomb

WHEN the first glimmerings of returning consciousness stirred Gregory Sallust's brain the aeroplane was thousands of feet above Northern Germany. He was slumped forward in the bucket seat behind the pilot and for a moment he did not know where he was or what had happened to him. With an effort he raised his hand towards his aching head. The hand hovered uncertainly for a second on a level with his lowered chin; then the plane bumped slightly, jerking him a little, so that the feeble movement was checked and his arm flopped inwards towards his body. His greatcoat had fallen open and his fingers came in contact with the Iron Cross that General Count von Pleisen had pinned upon his breast. It was sticky with the half congealed blood that had trickled over it from the wound in his shoulder. As his fingers closed over the decoration full consciousness flooded back to him.

It was the night of November the 8th, 39 and after many weary weeks of desperate hazard and anxiety, pitting his wits against the agents of the Gestapo in war time London, Paris, Holland and Germany, he had that evening at last succeeded in carrying out the immensely important secret mission which had been entrusted to him. As a result of his work the German Army leaders had risen in a determined attempt to throw off the Nazi yoke and create a new, free Germany with which the Democracies might conclude an honourable peace.

There flashed back into Gregory's mind the incredible scene of bloodshed and carnage at which he had been present only a few hours before, when Count von Pleisen. the Military Governor of Berlin, had led his three hundred officers into the great Banqueting Room of the Hotel Adlon to arrest the Sons of Siegfried, a dining club used as cover by the Inner Gestapo, who ‘were holding their monthly meeting there behind closed doors.

It had been hell incarnate. Six hundred desperate men in one vast room and every one of them blazing away with an automatic or sub machine gun. Some of the Gestapo men had reached the telephones and had warned their Headquarters, the Brown Shirt barracks and other Nazi centres. The Generals had seized the Central Telephone Exchange and the Broadcasting Station. The people had risen and were lynching isolated Nazis in the streets. Artillery had been brought into action and shells were blasting the Nazi strongholds. But the thousands of S.S. and S.A. men had sallied out to give battle and when Gregory left Berlin they still held the central square mile of the city anti, from what little he could gather, certain outlying areas as well.

In Munich that night Hitler and many of his principal lieutenants had attended the Anniversary Celebrations of their early Putsch with the Nazi Old Guard in the Buergerbrau Keller. As the Army chiefs who had planned the revolt could not be in Berlin and Munich on the same night, and considered it more important to secure the Capital, von Pleisen had reluctantly consented to the placing of a bomb to destroy the Fuehrer. But just before Gregory staggered out of the Adlon news had come through that Hitler and his personal entourage had left the meeting much earlier than had been expected, so although the bomb had gone off and had wrecked the cellar, killing many of its occupants, he had escaped and was reported to be organizing counter measures from his special train.

Now the die was cast it was impossible to foretell which side would gain the upper hand. With their Artillery and tanks the Generals might succeed in overcoming the thirty thousand armed Nazis who held Berlin for Hitler and raising the Flag of Freedom there; but what of the rest of the country?

As Hitler was still alive and at large the air must be quivering with urgent orders to his Gauleiters and Party Chiefs in every corner of the Reich, instructing them to arrest all suspects, to shoot on sight and to exercise the sternest possible repressive measures against all dangerous elements. Those Nazi Party men would act with utter disregard for life or any human sentiment. They had climbed to power by such relentless methods and they would certainly stick at nothing now, knowing that their own lives depended upon the suppression of the rebellion.

The plane roared on into the blackness of the night. Gregory had no memory of having boarded it at the secret landing ground some fifteen miles outside Berlin but he knew that the figure silhouetted against the lights of the dash board was Flight Lieutenant Freddie Charlton, who had flown him to another secret landing ground north west of Cologne just a week after the outbreak of war. Fate had ordained that Charlton should also be the pilot on duty that night outside Berlin, standing by to take any British secret agent who needed his services on the long flight home. With a fresh effort Gregory jerked up his head. The sudden movement caused a stab of pain from thee wound in his shoulder and he gave a low moan.

"So you've come round?" said Charlton, turning his head.

"Yes," Gregory muttered. "I suppose I fainted from loss of blood soon after we reached the farm house."

"That's it; and we didn't even try to bring you round. The farmer and I wanted to bathe and bandage that wound of yours but the young woman who was with you wouldn't let us. You were all for taking her back to England with you but she wouldn't go, so you said that in that case you were damned if you'd go either."

"Oh God I Erika-Erika " Gregory moaned as the airman went on:

"Apparently she felt that she'd never be able to make you leave her once you came round again and she was desperately anxious to have you safely out of it. She insisted that we should bung you in the plane and that I should get off with you while you were still unconscious."

Gregory lurched forward. "Look here, Charlton," he said thickly, "you've got to turn round and take me back. I'm not going home yet I can't. You must find that farm again and land me. Understand?"

"Sorry; can't be done," Freddie called back with boyish cheerfulness. "I'm the captain of this bus and you're only a passenger. If you've got any complaints you can make them when we land at Heston early in the morning."

"Now, listen." Gregory laid his good hand on Charlton's shoulder. "That girl we left is Erika won Epp or, to give her- her married name, the Countess won Osterberg. She's the grandest, bravest thing that ever walked, as well as the loveliest, and I'm not leaving her in the lurch. It's unthinkable! "

"She'll be all right; she said so."

"She won't. You don't understand. She's won Pleisen's niece and she was up to her neck in the conspiracy. If it hadn't been for her I would never have been able to deliver a letter from the Allied statesmen, guaranteeing Germany an honourable peace and a new deal if the Generals would out Hitler and his thugs. Just think."

"I don't care who she is or what she's done," Charlton cut him short. "We're not going back."

"We must Von Pleisen was a splendid fool. Instead of taking the advice of most of his officers and mowing down the sons of Siegfried before they had a chance to utter he insisted that they should be given an opportunity to surrender peaceably. Von Pleisen's chivalry cost him his life and gave the Nazis just the breathing space necessary to draw their guns. A lot 'of them fought their way out of the trap and were able to rally their men. When I left Berlin the streets were running with blood, but it's anybody's battle; and Hitler escaped the bomb in Munich."

Gregory’s head was aching dully but his brain was moving now, and he went on speaking slowly but firmly. "If the Gestapo get the upper hand there'll be a more terrible purge than anything that even Nazi Germany has ever witnessed. Every officer Who’s in this thing, and hundreds of others who are only suspected, will be shot; their families will be proscribed and thrown into concentration camps. Erika will be right at the top of the list and God knows what those swine have in store for her."

"Easy, easy," Charlton murmured, "you're letting your imagination run away with you."

"I'm not l You must believe me! Grauber, the Chief of the Gestapo Foreign Department, U.A. 1, bagged her just before the Putsch and it was only by the luck of the devil that she was till alive when I reached and freed her."

"Well, since she is free, what are you worrying about?"

"Damn it, man, Grauber's aware of the part she played so he’ll put scores of his agents on to hunt her down again. If I can join her there's a sporting chance that I might get her out of he country. If I can't, I could at least shoot her myself, and I’d rather do that than have her fall into his hands; if he gets her he'll kill her by inches. I've got to go back I've definitely got to "

"Now look here, old chap," Charlton turned his head again and spoke in a more reasonable tone, "I do understand what you're feeling. You're in love with her. That was as plain as a pike staff although I only saw the two of you together for a few minuets. Naturally it hurts like hell to have to leave her behind in such a sticky spot, but what the devil could you do, wounded as you are, even if you were able to rejoin her?"

"The wound's not much. Grauber got me in the fleshy part of the shoulder but fortunately there's no bone broken and the bullet went out the other side. I only fainted from loss of blood and I wouldn't have done that if I hadn't had to go on fighting and chasing about all over Berlin for an hour or more after I was hit. It'll be all right in a day or two."

"That's as maybe, but if you want it to heal quickly you'll have to lie up, and you can't do that while searching Berlin for your girl friend. Another thing: if this Gestapo man you speak of shot you himself he presumably knows who you are."

Gregory started to laugh but choked and began to cough violently. When he got his breath back he replied:

"Know me? By God he does We've been up against each other for the last two months. He darned nearly murdered me in London and I near as dammit laid him by the heels in Paris about a fortnight ago; but he got away to Holland and the authorities there put him in prison for travelling on a forged passport. Thinking that he was safely out of the way I impersonated him when I did my second trip into Germany and went swaggering round the country asHerr Gruppenführer Grauber in the smartest all black uniform you've ever seen. Lord, how they kowtowed to me 'Yes,Herr Gruppenführer.' `No, Herr Gruppenführer: 'May it please Your Excellency.' 'Will you honour us by accepting this damned good meal while we sit here and starve?' The poor saps But Grauber turned up in Munich to spoil my little game. I had the last laugh, though, when I cornered him in a bedroom at the Adlon this evening. My gun was empty so I hurled it in his face and smashed his left eye to pulp."

Fine " murmured Charlton. "Fine! But hasn't it occurred to you that Grauber will be a little peeved about losing that eye of his; and that with the whole of the Gestapo behind him it's he would have the last laugh instead of you if I landed you again in this accursed country,"

Gregory straightened himself. His head was clearing with the cool night air and he was feeling distinctly better. "To hell with that! I'm prepared to chance it. If they get me that's my affair; the one thing that I flatly refuse to do is to go back to England while Erika is left to fend for herself in Berlin."

"It's not a matter of your refusing; you have no option. I've made eleven of these secret trips successfully since I set you down outside Cologne two months ago and now I'm well away with this one I'm not going to risk losing one of Britain's planes and, though I sez it as shouldn't, one of her ace pilots by coming town again because you've fallen in love with a German girl." Gregory tried to control the urgency in his voice but every minute the plane was taking him three miles further from Erika. `It's a lot to ask, I know," he said persuasively, "but there's too much trouble going on in Berlin to night for the anti aircraft look outs to be active. They'll all have heard of the Army Putsch by now and will probably be fighting among themselves. Anyhow, they'll be far too busy swapping rumours. and hanging on for the latest news to bother about checking up on a stray plane."

"Perhaps; but even if I were willing to take you back I couldn’t. You remember how we landed outside Cologne just one window of the farm house was left uncurtained to light me in. The same drill is followed at the secret landing ground east of Berlin but those windows are left uncurtained only for a short period on certain nights, and at stated times, by arrangement. There won't be any light showing from the farm house now in fact, it won't be showing again until ten o'clock next Sunday; and this is only Wednesday. So you see, it's absolutely impossible or me to attempt another landing there to night."

"All right, then; land me somewhere else I don't care where any place you like so long as it's inside Germany. Then '11 make my own way back to Berlin."

"How the hell can I, with the whole country blacked out? You must see for yourself that without a single thing to guide me in it's a hundred to one that I'd crash the plane on a hillside or in a wood."

"How far D’you reckon we are from Berlin?"

Charlton glanced at his dash board. "I managed to pick up few lights way out on our left, through a break in the clouds, a few minutes ago. and as I know this country like the back of my hand I'm certain they were in the town of Brandenburg. In another few moments we shall be passing over the Elbe so we're somewhere about sixty miles due west of Berlin by now."

"That's not so bad." Gregory murmured; "the province of Brandenburg is flattish country, mostly sandy wastes and farmland which is very sparsely populated. With a bit of luck we night find a spot where you could land me without much likelihood of running into trouble. Be a sportsman and go down low, just to see if you can make out the lie of the land."

"No, Sallust; it would be absolutely suicidal. The antiaircraft people hereabouts haven't had much to do during the first few months of the war so normally they're pretty sleepy but, as you say yourself, they'll be on their toes to night waiting lot the latest news from Berlin; and this is a prohibited area. I never feel safe until I've climbed to over 3o,oo and we're miles from that height yet. Even up here, if the Nazis pick up the note of my engine in their listening posts, they may start blazing off at us. We're still well within range and I happen to know their orders. `Fire first and ask questions afterwards ' "

Gregory moved uneasily in his seat. Somehow or other he was determined to get back to Berlin. He could, of course, let Freddie Charlton fly him home, lie up for four days and arrange to be flown out again to the secret landing ground on the following Sunday night but in the meantime anything might happen and the one thought that agitated his now active mind was the awful danger in which his beloved Erika stood. Tonight Berlin was in utter confusion; almost certainly the street fighting would still be in progress to morrow. While the Germans were killing one another they would be much too occupied to do any spy hunting. If only he could return at once he would be able to move about the city freely, for some hours at least, without being called on to produce any papers. While von Pleisen's officers were still holding their own he would be able to get in touch with some of those he had met and, since many of them knew Erika, ascertain through them the most likely places in which to look for her.

On the other hand, if he could get back to Berlin before Monday morning a decision would almost certainly have been reached by then. If the Generals had come out on top there would be nothing for him to worry about; but he was now extremely dubious about their chances, and if the revolt had been suppressed the old Nazi tyranny would be clamped down more firmly than ever before. Storm Troopers and police would be challenging all who dared to put their noses out of doors, and without papers his arrest would be certain before he had been back in the Capital an hour.

There was no question about it; his only hope of rejoining Erika lay in returning to Berlin while the fighting was still going on. That meant that he must land in Germany again that night and every mile further that he allowed Charlton to fly him from the Capital would make his task of getting back there more difficult. He began to plead again urgently desperately but Charlton continued adamant in his refusal.

At last Gregory fell silent, but that did not mean that he had abandoned his project. Instead he had begun to contemplate desperate measures no less than an attempt to render Charlton powerless and take charge of the plane himself.

He felt confident that if he could get control of the plane he knew enough of aircraft to get the machine down without allowing it to plunge headlong to destruction. Landing was another matter. He did not flatter himself for a second that he could perform such an operation successfully when an ace pilot like Charlton declared that in the black out a crash was inevitable; but modern planes are stoutly built so Gregory was prepared for a crash and to take a chance that if he could bring the plane down slowly with its engine shut off, once it had hit the ground, he would be able to get Charlton and himself clear of it without serious injury.

The idea was semi suicidal and Gregory realized that it was extremely hard on Charlton that his life and freedom should be jeopardized by such an act; but if the airman would not help him by attempting to land of his own free will he must take the consequences. Gregory had risked his neck too often to worry about himself and now the only thing he cared to live for was Erika von Epp.

Leaning forward he peered down towards the hidden landscape in an attempt to assess the density of the darkness. For a few moments he could see nothing because they were flying high above a heavy cloud bank, but after a little the clouds broke and far below he caught sight of a few tiny pin points of light. The German black out was still far from perfect. In spite of heavy penalties for slackness there had been a natural tendency to be careless about A.R.P. as the only enemy planes which had flown over the country since the outbreak of war had dropped leaflets instead of bombs.

The lights suddenly disappeared again but Gregory reckoned that once below the cloud bank he would be able to pick up plenty more. The altimeter of the plane would give him his height until he was within a thousand feet of the ground. If he brought the machine down in a long, flat spiral he could watch the lights. If any of them blacked out he would know that the crest of a hill had come between them and him and so he would be able to zoom up again to repeat the process until, with luck, he struck an area of flattish ground on which he could chance a landing with some prospect of not crashing too badly.

The problem was how to overcome the pilot. Had both Gregory's arms been sound he would have flung over Charlton's head the rug in which his own legs were wrapped and pulled him backwards out of his seat. One flick of the controls would be enough to turn the plane's steering gear over to "George", the gyroscopic mechanism which would keep the machine steady while he tied Charlton up. But, wounded as he was, Gregory knew that such a plan was quite impracticable; he hadn't the strength to overcome the airman. The only alternative was to knock Charlton out: a rotten thing to have to do, but once Gregory had made up his mind about a course of action he never allowed sentiment to deter him from his purpose.

Stooping down he began to grope about at his feet in the hope of finding some object with which he could hit the unsuspecting pilot over the back of the head.

Charlton must have sensed something of what had been going on in Gregory's mind. He turned suddenly and said: "What're you up to?"

"Nothing," muttered Gregory, who, having failed to find on the floor of the plane any object which he might use as a weapon, had pushed back the rug and begun to unlace one of his shoes with the idea of using that. He did not wish to hurt the airman more than necessary and reckoned that a good blow with the heel would be sufficient to stun him temporarily without cutting open his head.

Charlton appeared satisfied but a moment later he swung round again. Gregory had his shoe off and was holding it by the toe, in his right hand, ready to aim his blow.

"Now, look here," Charlton snapped, "no funny business! If you're thinking of trying to land me one with that shoe and taking over the plane you'd better think again. You've got only one good arm and I've got two. What's more, I've got a spanner here. I'm afraid you're so overwrought that you're near as dammit off your rocker; otherwise you'd never contemplate sending us both crashing to our death. If you make one move towards me or the controls of this plane I'll have to knock you senseless "

The two men stared angrily at each other. Charlton had his jaw thrust out and evidently meant every word he said. Gregory's eyes were narrowed and the white scar of an old wound which caught up his left eyebrow, giving him a slightly Satanic appearance, showed a livid white.

The airman was wondering if it would not be wisest, without further argument, to knock out this maniac who threatened to jeopardize both their lives, and his right hand was already groping for the heavy spanner which lay beside his bucket seat. The lean, sinewy soldier of fortune was coolly assessing his chances in an open attack. They would be much less than if he could have taken the airman by surprise, as at the moment he was very much the weaker of the two; but he believed that he could rely upon his greater experience in scrapping, and the utter ruthlessness with which he always acted if once compelled to enter any fight, to get in one good blow on Charlton's temple before the airman could overpower him.

"If you get hurt you've brought it on yourself," Gregory muttered, glad now to have been relieved from the repugnant act of striking from behind a man whom he would normally have counted a friend.

"For God's sake… “Charlton exclaimed. He was furious with Gregory for placing him in such a situation. Although he had switched the plane's controls over to the gyroscopes he realized the hideous danger of a fight in mid air which might even temporarily incapacitate him and he was more than a little scared by the gleam in Gregory's eyes.

Suddenly the tension was broken. The steady hum of the engine was abruptly shattered by a sharp report and Gregory saw the livid flash that stabbed the darkness a little ahead of them to their right.

"Hell " Charlton gasped, swinging round to the controls. "They're on to us "

As the plane dived steeply another flash appeared away to their left a third a fourth. Each was accompanied by a sharp report like the crack of a whip. A German anti aircraft battery had the plane taped through its sound range finder and was putting up a barrage all round it; some of the shells exploded like Roman Candles, sending out strings of `Flaming Onions'. At the sound of the first bang Gregory stuffed his shoe in the pocket of his greatcoat and flung himself backwards, pushing out his feet to support himself as they hurtled downwards.

The bursting shells were now far above them but as the plane rushed towards the earth the pilot and his passenger could see that they were over another large break in the cloud bank. Pinpoints of light showed far away in the darkness below while a little in front the blackness was stabbed repeatedly by bright flashes from the guns of the anti aircraft battery. They seemed to make its position an almost continuous pool of light, like a baleful furnace flickering unevenly in the surrounding gloom.

Charlton suddenly checked the plane and zoomed up again. The strain was terrific. Gregory was almost shot out of his seat. His heart seemed to leap up into his throat. Now the Germans had got their searchlights going and bright pencils of coloured light cut the sky here and there, sweeping swiftly from side to side in search of the plane.

The machine was on an even keel again, heading southward, and the groups of shell bursts were well away to their left. For a moment it seemed as though they had got away but, without warning, one of the searchlights, coming up from behind, caught the plane, lighting the roof of the cabin as it passed with the brightness of full day. In a second they had flashed out of it. Charlton banked steeply to the west but two seconds later it was back on to them again. The other beams swung together as though operated by a single hand; the plane was trapped in their blinding glare. The guns of the battery altered their range and sent up another broadside of shells which burst immediately below the aircraft, rocking it from side to side with the violence of a cockle shell in a tempest.

Getting it into control once more Charlton dived and twisted in a frantic endeavour to get free. Gregory was flung first to one side and then to another; but the searchlights clung to them and, in the fractional intervals between the reports of the bursting shells, there was thud after thud as steel fragments and shrapnel tore the fuselage.

Suddenly the engine stuttered and gave out. "They've got us " Gregory cried.

"A piece has penetrated the magneto box or else the petrol leads have been torn away " Charlton yelled above the din.

The plane began to plunge. Charlton managed to right it and for a moment the "Archies" continued to scatter shells all round them. One piece of metal smashed a window but the searchlights still held them and the gunners, seeing that they were now coming down, ceased fire. `

In a strange silence which seemed unnatural after the roar of the guns and shells the machine rapidly lost height. The pinpoints of light below and the dark land, which they sensed rather than saw, seemed to be rushing up to meet them. The further lights disappeared and Charlton flattened out. For a

minute both men held their breath in frightful suspense, knowing that they might be dead before they could count a hundred. There was a terrific bump; the sound of tearing metal. The cabin floor lifted beneath their feet and the whole plane turned right over.

Gregory's head hit the roof of the cabin with a frightful crack and he was temporarily half dazed by the blow. Scrambling to his knees he crouched in the dip of the upturned roof, swaying his aching head from side to side, until he heard Charlton yelling at him.

The airman had kicked out the fragments of the shattered window and scrambled through it. He turned now and was grabbing at Gregory's shoulders. With an effort Gregory stumbled up, pulled on his shoe, and, aided by Charlton, wriggled out of the wrecked plane. In the struggle they fell together in a heap and rolled a few yards down the slope upon which the plane had come to grief.

When they had checked themselves and blundered, panting, to their feet Charlton was swearing profusely; but Gregory way laughing - laughing like hell positively rocking with Satanic glee.

"So you had to land me after all, damn you " he gasped. "And by refusing to turn round when I asked you, you've ditched yourself into the bargain."

"You fool! " snarled Charlton. "You suicidal maniac! We'll be caught inside ten minutes."

"No, we shan't," said Gregory firmly. "It's black as pitch and we'll find plenty of places in which to hide. This time to morrow night we'll be back in Berlin."

"What a hope l " Freddie Charlton was almost stuttering with rage. "I couldn't move a mile in this accursed country without arousing suspicion. I can't speak a word of German."

"Don't worry; I'll talk for us both."

"You’ll be talking to the Gestapo before you're an hour older." Charlton jerked his arm out savagely, pointing towards a cluster of moving lights that had suddenly flashed out less than a hundred yards away. "Those are the German gunners coming to take us prisoner."

"The Devil! " exclaimed Gregory. "I thought they were a couple of miles away. Come on Run.

Chapter II

Hunted

INSTINCTIVELY, as he began to run, Charlton turned away from the advancing Germans but Gregory grabbed his arm and pulled him sharply to the right.

"This way! " he grunted. "Our best chance is to try to put he crest of the hill between us and them. We'll get a few minute’s start while they're examining the wrecked plane."

For a hundred yards they ran on in silence, then Charlton muttered: "How's that wound of yours?"

"Not too good." Gregory panted. "I wrenched it when we crashed and it's started to bleed again, but I reckon I can do about a couple of miles. I wish to God that instead of listening to Erika you'd had the sense to bind it up for me."

"Your girl friend wouldn't let me," Charlton snapped impatiently. "I told you; her one thought was to have you out of his, and I don't wonder. If you were as dangerous to her as you've been to me she'd have been better off running round with a packet of dynamite in the seat of her drawers."

"Let's save our breath till we're clear of the Troopers," Gregory snapped back. "We'll have plenty of time for mutual recrimination later on."

Charlton accepted the suggestion and they plodded on side by side up the grassy slope. Suddenly a few distant lights came into view, which told them that they had reached its crest. At that moment there was a loud explosion in their rear.

For a second the whole landscape was lit up as brightly as though someone had fired a gargantuan piece of magnesium tape. Both of them automatically halted and looked back. They were just in time to catch the after glow of the central flash and see a tall column of lurid flame shoot up towards the sky.

"That's the plane," said Charlton bitterly. "Those blasted gunners must have just about reached it. I hope to hell the explosion put paid to some of them."

As he spoke a shot rang out; another; and another. Outlined against the sky they had been sighted in the flash of the explosion. The bullets whistled round them and with a sharp whack one tore through the skirt of Charlton's leather jacket.

Gregory flung himself flat. "You hit?" he called anxiously, as Charlton flopped down beside him.

"No. It was a near thing, though. What filthy luck that we happened to be right on the sky line just as the plane went up! If we'd crossed the crest a moment earlier or a moment later we might have got away unseen."

"Anyway, we're spotted now and the hunt is up," Gregory muttered, and they began to wriggle quickly forward on their stomachs.

Bullets hummed and whistled through the grass but the flames from the burning plane lit only the slope up which they had come and the far side of the crest was in almost total darkness. The Boches were now firing blind, so there was little chance of their scoring a hit, and when the two fugitives had progressed about twenty yards down the further side of the slope they were sufficiently under cover to be safe again for the moment.

Standing up, they began to run once more and Gregory said: " I suppose you had a time bomb in the plane?"

"Yes; we always carry one to prevent our aircraft falling into the hands of the enemy if we have to make a forced landing. I pulled out the pin while you were still rolling about the upturned roof of the cabin."

"Good man I You know, I like you. Charlton; although I'm afraid I haven't given you any cause to fall in love with me. It takes nerve to remember a thing like that just after you've narrowly escaped being shot to hell and breaking your neck into the bargain."

"Thanks." Freddie Charlton's voice was non committal. "It wasn’t your fault that we were shot down, although you were just on the point of behaving like a lunatic. Anyhow, there's no sense in my bearing you any malice about that now. We're in this filthy mess together, so we may as well be pleasant to each other until we're caught and bunged into separate cells."

"That's the idea;" Gregory panted; "but with a little luck we'll give these birds the slip yet. Old soldiers never die, you know; they only fade away. I've been in tougher spots than this in my time and I've always succeeded in fading."

"You'll need the fairy's cloak of invisibility and the giant's seven league boots into the bargain to fade out of this mess, but I give you full marks for guts and optimism."

"Thanks. I Gregory's words were cut short by the crack of a single rifle which was instantly followed by an irregular volley. The soldiers had breasted the rise and were spraying the lower ground with random shots in the hope that one of them might find a mark.

"Hell " Charlton exclaimed. "Can you put on a spurt?"

"Yes," muttered Gregory through his teeth. "Head a bit more to the right! When the plane blew up I spotted a dark patch of woodland over there."

"So did I" Charlton grabbed Gregory's good arm to support his failing strength and they dashed forward together.

The ground beneath their flying feet was still grassland so they were making good going, but as they glanced over their shoulders from time to time they saw from the flashing torches in their rear that the soldiers had spread out into a long line. It was a case of fox and hounds where, although the fox may be the faster, hounds always win in the long run unless the fox can go to earth. If they could not find cover fairly soon the fastest among their pursuers would wear them down and inevitably come up with them.

Two hundred yards further on Charlton stumbled and fell, pitching into a deep ditch. Gregory's wound was paining him again, badly now, and his breath was rasping in his lungs, but he still had all his wits about him. Pulling up just in time he prevented himself from plunging after the airman.

With curses and groans Charlton regained his feet. Gulping for breath they clambered up the further bank of the ditch together to find themselves on a road. It was very dark but ahead of them lay a deeper blackness and on the far side of the road they both stumbled into tree trunks. They had reached the wood.

Under the branches the blackness was absolutely pitch dark and, as they blundered on, they were constantly running into trees or bramble bushes. The next few moments were a positive nightmare. Behind them they could hear the staccato orders of the officer who was urging his men after them and the guttural cries of the Germans keeping in touch with one another. Their pursuers were already crossing the ditch and coming up on to the road, yet owing to the density of the wood and their inability to see even a few inches ahead of them the fugitives seemed to have made practically no progress. They were barely twenty yards inside the wood, still panting from their long run, bruised by collisions with trees unseen in the darkness and their hands torn by strands of bramble which clutched at them from every side, when the torches of the soldiers began to flicker upon the trees hat lined the roadside.

As they struggled on, sweating and panting, the twigs under their feet seemed to snap with reports like the crackle of musketry and they both felt convinced that the noise would give away heir position. One of the soldiers started to shoot again and gullets whined away to their left but on a sharp order from the officer the firing ceased. He did not want his men endangered by their own bullets, which might ricochet off the tree trunks.

Gasping, bleeding, bruised, almost exhausted, Gregory and Charlton blundered desperately forward, keeping in touch with. each other by the noise they were compelled to make in forcing heir way through the unseen undergrowth. Gradually the sounds of the pursuit faded in the distance and at last they could rear only the noise of their feet thrashing against the brambles. Instinctively they halted.

"What did I tell you?" chuckled Gregory, after he had had a chance to get his breath. "You were so certain that they'd catch is but we're still free."

"For how long, though?" Charlton muttered gloomily. "I expect they're on their way back to their comfortable beds by row but they'll be out here again first thing in the morning. What’s the sense in spending a night in this filthy wood only to be captured to morrow?"

"We're better off here than we should be in the cells of the local Gestapo. As for to morrow, we'll see. If only I were fit we'd put a dozen miles between ourselves and this wood before morning. The devil of it is that this wound of mine makes it impossible for me to go much further."

"Is it hurting much?"

"Yes; like hell " Gregory was leaning against a tree and re drew a hand wearily over his eyes. "If we'd had to run another half mile I should have fainted again, I think. As it is, I'm about all in."

"We'd better shake down here for the night, then."

"I suppose we must, although I'm damned if I like it. We're till much too near that road for comfort. I'm good for a last effort but I don't think we'd better risk trying to get deeper into this wood in the darkness. otherwise we may move round in a circle and walk right out of it again. Let's look about for a spot that's clear of these accursed blackberry bushes."

Charlatan got out his lighter and flicked it on. The tiny flame only lit the surrounding gloom sufficiently to show his face caked with sweat and congealed blood where low branches had scratched it.

"I can improve on that," said Gregory, taking a box of hatches from his pocket. "It's the first time I've had cause to be thankful that owing to their tax on matches the Nazis don't allow lighters in their country."

As the match flared they could see that the wood about them was very dense and the ground almost entirely covered with undergrowth. Proceeding cautiously they made their way towards a place where the trees were not quite so thick and found that the break was caused by a shallow gully.

"This'll do," said Gregory; "in fact it'll have to, as the longer we show a light the greater our danger."

Side by side they sat down in the ditch. It was quite dry and soft from the accumulation of leaf mould and leaves which lad covered it through the years. Gregory eased his tired limbs, propped his back against the bank and produced his cigarettes. They shielded Charlton's lighter and lit up. As the flame was licked out the surrounding darkness closed in about them once more, seeming blacker than ever. After smoking in silence for a little they recovered somewhat from their exertions and began to feel the cold. Charlton remarked upon it bitterly.

Gregory grunted. "Well, its November, remember, and we're dammed lucky that there's no snow. They had snow in the war zone over a fortnight ago, and that's hundreds of miles further south than this place. On my last trip into Germany I came through the Maginot and Siegfried Lines disguised as a German private, and my God the cold was fierce! This is nothing to it."

Charlton turned his head towards the spot where Gregory’s; cigarette glowed in the darkness. "You're the hell of a tiger, aren't you, making your way through war zones and starting revolutions and one thing and another "

`I suppose I am," Gregory grinned. He was feeling better again now that he could sit still and rest his wounded shoulder. 'It's not that I'm particularly brave certainly no braver than to airman like yourself who takes a hellish risk every time he flies over enemy territory; it's just that I get a lot of kick out of pitting my wits against those of other people. But, to be quite honest, I never take a chance of getting hurt unless I absolutely have to."

"Nonsense! " Charlton laughed. "What about to night when you had the bright idea of lamming me over the head with the heel of your shoe in order that you could crash the plane and get back to that girl of yours?"

"Oh well, that was rather different. You were quite right when you said that I was in love with her; and anyone who's in love is crazy."

That's a good excuse but I've a feeling that you're the sort of chap who would have acted just as crazily if it had been some job of work which you felt you had to get on with, instead of a woman, that made you so anxious to get back to Berlin." "Perhaps. Just all depends how important the job was; but you can take my word for it in the normal way I'm an extraordinarily cautious person. `He who fights and runs away ‘that’s my motto. By sticking to it I've managed to live through the hell of a lot of trouble to the ripe old age of thirty nine."

"Well done. Methuselah Then you're fourteen years ahead of me. But I bet I'll never live to make up the leeway not with this filthy war on."

"Since you feel like that to night's little affair may yet prove the best thing that could have happened to you. If we are caught you'll be interned, and safe for the duration."

"Thanks. But the idea doesn't appeal. I'd rather continue to lend a hand against little old 'Itler. Besides, if we're caught, what about you?"

"Oh, I'll be shot; because I'm not a member of one of the fighting Services but a secret agent."

"Aren't you a bit scared? I mean our chances don't seem up to much, do they?"

"Frankly, no. We're faced with two major liabilities which are going to make it extremely difficult for us to get clean away. Firstly, my wound, which prevents our travelling swiftly. I'm afraid it's very inflamed and there's no doubt that I ought really to lie up for at least two or three days without moving at all. Then there's the fact that you can't speak German."

"Our clothes are a bit of a give away, too."

"Yes. At a push I could pass in a crowd, since this is a German officer's greatcoat that I'm wearing; but your leather kit won't be easy to laugh off, as they're certain to be looking for two English airmen. Fortunately, though, they didn't see us at all clearly so they can't issue our descriptions and, of course, they haven't got the faintest idea of the identity of the people in the plane that they shot down."

"Perhaps tomorrow we may run across some farm labourer whose things I could buy or, if necessary, take off him by force," Charlton suggested.

"Yes; or we may be able to beg, borrow or steal a change of clothing."

"The devil of it is that first thing in the morning those damned soldiers and the police will be beating these woods with bloodhounds."

Gregory shook his head. "No, I don't think so. They'll beat the woods all right, but not with bloodhounds. For a bloodhound to be any help you've got to give it some article of clothing that's been worn by the person you re hunting, so that it can get the scent, and they've got nothing of that kind in their possession. Anyhow, time enough to face to morrow's troubles when to morrow comes. Let's try to get some sleep."

They stretched out in the ditch side by side, pillowing their heads on their handkerchiefs spread out over scraped up piles of leaves. The silence of the wood was broken only by the occasional scurrying of small animals in the undergrowth as they went about their nightly business. Once Gregory spotted a pair of tiny bright eyes gleaming at him out of the blackness but at his first movement the little animal scampered away in quick alarm. The cold was intense and they would have suffered from it severely if both of them had not been very warmly clad. As it was; it kept them from sleep for some time although they buried their hands in their arm pits and their faces deep in the turned up collars of their coats; but at last they dropped off from sheer exhaustion.

When they awoke the pale light of the chill November dawn was just filtering through the naked branches of the trees. Cold, cramped and stiff, they sat up to peer about them. From the gully in which they lay they could not see more than a dozen yards in any direction or any sign of a break in the wood.

Charlton shivered and said miserably: "Oh God Then it wasn't a nightmare We really were shot down and are on the run."

Gregory gave an "Ouch " of pain as he moved. His wound had set stiff during the night and as he lifted his left arm a violent pain ran through his shoulder.

"You've said it " he replied through gritted teeth. "It's no dream you're having, but a lovely, real life adventure."

"Adventure be damned What wouldn't I give for a cup of tea, breakfast and a hot bath "

"Why not wish for caviar, a suite at the Ritz and Cleopatra smiling at you from a large double bed, while you're about it?" said Gregory. "You're just as likely to get one as the other."

Standing up. Freddie Charlton stretched himself. His fair, boyish face now showed little of the strain that he had been through the previous night, youth and vitality having quickly restored him to his normal physical well being, but his grey eyes were anxious as he stared down at Gregory.

"Well? You're the Führer in this little show; so you'd better think of something. We can't stay here for ever without food or drink. What D’you suggest that we should do?"

Gregory wriggled a large flask out of his hip pocket. "He who drinks, dines," he misquoted gravely, "and this is very good brandy and water. Take a pull to warn yourself up. It's much too early to expect me to do any thinking yet, though. My brain doesn't start to tick over until after ten and, unless my watch has stopped, it's only about six thirty; which is a revolting hour for any civilized being to be awake at all."

Freddie looked at Gregory curiously. He was often up at six himself and would long since have broken his neck flying if he had not had his wits about him just as much at that hour as later in the day. He was not certain if Gregory was seeking to impress him, by an apparently casual contempt for the danger they were in, or if he was a lazy, cynical devil who refused to be hurried into action as was in fact the case but he refrained from comment.

Having taken a couple of big gulps from the flask he exclaimed: "Ah, that's betters" and, handing back, went on: "Well, last night we decided that our first job must be to get some other sort of kit by robbing a labourer or a cottage or something, so the sooner we start moving the better."

"That's the idea; but I'm not doing any moving for the time being," Gregory replied. "As you're feeling so energetic, by all means go and have a look round, but for God's sake don't get yourself lost so that you can't find your way back to me. Otherwise, as you can't speak any German, you'll be completely sunk. Incidentally, you might keep a look out for a pond or a stream where I can bathe this wretched wound of mine before it starts to go gangrenous."

"Right," Freddie nodded, and he set off through the trees.

He was away for nearly an hour and when he got back he found that Gregory was sound asleep again. On being woken. Gregory explained that he considered that his time was best occupied in getting as much rest as possible. He then inquired the result of Charlton's expedition.

"I've found a stream not very far from here where you can bathe your wound," replied the airman, "but the water is absolutely icy. It sent cold shivers down my spine when I had a dip in it."

"D'you mean you stripped and went in?" Gregory asked, aghast.

"Yes. What is there so surprising about that?"

"Well, cleanliness may be next to godliness, in which case I rank with the Twelve Apostles when I'm leading a normal existence, but if you take my tip you'll go dirty while we're on the run. Nothing is calculated to lower one's powers of mental resistance so much as the immersion of the body in ice cold water. Still, I suppose you're one of those hardy blokes. You must have missed the radio announcer this morning when you did your daily dozen."

Freddie flushed slightly. "I believe in keeping fit. A chap can't keep fit without regular exercise."

"Rot said Gregory.” From my infancy upwards I abhorred all ball games and for the past twenty years I haven't lifted a finger that I didn't have to, yet my muscles are like whip cord you once start you have to keep it up, young feller; and think of the hours that wastes in a lifetime! If you don't, you suddenly go flabby and are fit for nothing by the time you're my age. But lets skip it. What else did you find?'

"I went back to the road and there's a row of cottages about half a mile along it, to the left, but they're on the far side, on the open grassland, so I didn't dare to go nearer them for fear of being seen."

"How far are we from the road?"

"About 150 yards. After I'd been to the road I worked my way back again to find out how deep the wood was; at a rough guess I should say it's a good mile and a half from here before you come out on the other side."

"What sort of country lies beyond it?"

"There's a big open space with more grassland and a bit of rough, then more woods running up a slope to westwards. Just on the edge of this one, though, there's a fair sized country house, so we'd probably be spotted from that if we tried to advance across the open."

"Well, we won't for to day, at all events. But we must find a better place than this where we can lie doggo as it's pretty certain they'll send out troops to beat this wood for us. First, though, you'd better lead me to that stream you found."

Gregory got slowly to his feet and together they ploughed their way through the thick undergrowth until they reached a shallow pool formed by a little rippling brook beside which Gregory sat down and. Charlton helped him to remove his greatcoat. The blood from the wound had dried stiff on his jacket so Freddie had to cut the cloth away with his penknife and the next twenty minutes were exceedingly painful ones for Gregory.

He sat there without uttering a sound while the airman gradually soaked off the pieces of cloth and shirt which had adhered to the wound, bathed it clean with the cool spring water, bandaged it with the torn off tail of Gregory's shirt, got the remains of his jacket on again, his greatcoat over it, and made a rough sling out of his own muffler to carry the arm that was affected. By the time he had done Gregory was grey faced, sweating profusely and near to fainting, but afterwards he sat quite still for about ten minutes, had a cigarette and then declared himself ready to set off again.

Freddie Charlton was considerably impressed by Gregory's stoical resistance to the acute agony that he must have suffered. He could not yet make up his mind as to whether he liked him or not, but it was abundantly clear that his lean, cynical companion possessed an ample supply of both mental and physical courage and he could not help realizing that he might have been infinitely worse off had he had many other men that he could think of with him in this desperate situation.

Yet it irritated him that Gregory should be taking things so calmly. It was now past eight o'clock so it was quite certain that by this time troops would be on their way from the antiaircraft camp to search for them, if not already in the wood. To remain where they were would expose them to imminent risk of capture and in any case he did not see how they were to avoid it for long without a change of clothes and food. At the thought of food he realized how hungry he was and said:

"I don't know how you feel but I'm simply starving."

"Let's make for that house you mentioned," replied Gregory, getting to his feet. "November is a poor month to try to live on the land but we might find something edible in the kitchen garden. Patching up my wound took longer than I bargained for and the search parties will be after us soon."

"I'm glad you realize that at last," said Freddie stiffly.

"Oh, there'll be time enough to scrounge some sort of breakfast first and to run from the Germans afterwards," Gregory grinned, parodying Drake and the famous game of bowls, as they set off.

Most of the leaves had already fallen from the trees except where they were larch, fir or pine, of which there were a certain number, so they could see a fair way ahead of them when they were standing upright; but the undergrowth was still green and provided excellent cover ready to hand should they encounter anyone. Picking their way between the brambles they moved cautiously forward, keeping their eyes and ears alert for any sound or movement which might indicate the approach of another human being. After half an hour Freddie pointed through the trees to a wooden barn that had just become discernible. With a jerk of his head Gregory indicated that they should incline to the left and they proceeded still more warily until they reached the edge of the wood.

Looking right they could then see a group of buildings which consisted of a small, white, two storeyed manor house, probably built in the early part of the last century', amid a number of outbuildings. No one appeared to he about and the whole place lay silent in the cold autumn morning; so Gregory began to lead the way through the fringe of the wood towards it. After a few minutes they came to the back of the nearest barn and, creeping round its side, found that it fronted on a farm yard. Half a dozen pigs were guzzling in a sty and a troop of long necked; geese were waddling importantly towards a pond. Turning right they passed behind the next barn and found a gate leading into the kitchen garden. It ran along at the back of the house and was partly orchard so they were able to advance along its far end screened from the windows by the branches of the short fruit trees.

Gregory gave a grunt of satisfaction on noticing that some late pears still hung among the withered brown leaves and as swiftly as possible they filled their pockets with the fruit Charlton pulled half a dozen carrots from a near by bed and Gregory snatched two heads of celery. Suddenly the clatter of a pail being put down somewhere near the house broke the stillness. They started as though electrified and at a quick, almost noiseless run made off into the wood, which ran right up to the end of the garden.

"Pears, celery and raw carrots," Freddie sniffed, as they eased their pace and drew breath. "Not much of a breakfast, is it?"

"Might be a darned sight worse," Gregory replied. "Anyhow, before we think of eating we must try to find a good, snug hide out. The troops must be beating the wood further in by now and if we don't get to earth soon we'll be captured. Time's getting on; we've got to hurry."

For some time they searched, hoping to come upon a shallow cave or bramble covered gully in which they might conceal themselves; but without success. The wood was curiously and depressingly uniform. By lying flat they could have hidden themselves in the bushes at almost any spot from a casual wayfarer who passed within a dozen yards, but the cover was insufficient to prevent their being seen by deliberate searchers who came nearer.

"The only thing for it is to get up a tree," said Gregory at last. "That's not going to be easy with one of my arms out of action but we'll manage it somehow."

Swiftly, anxiously, straining their ears for sounds of the beaters, who they felt might advance upon them at any minute now, they examined a number of conifers, since the leaves on the other trees were too few to afford them decent cover, and selected a pine which had three branches coming out from its trunk, all nearly on the same level and abut twenty feet from the ground. Climbing it was a muscle wrenching struggle. But Charlton was six feet one in height and strong; he managed to swing himself up on to a lower branch and to haul Gregory up after him; and by further efforts they succeeded in reaching the higher branches which they had chosen for a roosting place.

Their perch was far from comfortable and it seemed doubtful if they would be able to maintain their position there for any great length of time, but Gregory insisted that they must do so at least until the search which they felt certain was in progress had passed by them. Having settled themselves in their hiding place with considerable relief they munched their pears disconsolately and waited in uneasy suspense.

Barely ten minutes later they caught the first sound of the men who had been sent out to hunt them down. Evidently the search had started from the road and was being made with German thoroughness; otherwise it would not have taken so long for the troops to work right through to almost the far extremity of the wood. Occasional calls came floating through the chill silence as the searchers approached and now and then the blast of a whistle by which an officer was evidently directing them; then came the crackling of twigs and the snapping of brambles as the heavy footed troopers kicked their way through the undergrowth.

Gregory and Charlton remained deadly still, fearful that the faintest movement would draw attention to their hiding place; since a pine tree, although the best that they could find at that season, does not afford good cover and anyone standing immediately beneath it had only to glance up to see them.

The flat cap of a grey clad soldier appeared below. He was carrying a rifle with fixed bayonet slung over his shoulder and halted for a moment just under the tree. Suddenly Freddie felt a frantic desire to cough but managed to convert the spasm into a gurgle, which he half stifled by clapping his hand over his mouth.

With acute anxiety Gregory stared down at the soldier fearing he had heard the noise that Charlton had made. If the man looked up the only possible way of preventing him from giving a triumphant shout, which would bring his comrades running, was to drop right on top of him. The weight of another body falling from twenty feet would smash him to the ground and with luck knock him out. Balancing himself carefully Gregory prepared to make that desperate plunge. His wound was temporarily forgotten in the tenseness of the moment but he was quick to realize that as the soldier's bayonet was sticking up just beside his head anyone who fell upon him from above must inevitably fall on the point of that too. Nevertheless, his decision had been taken instantly, since he felt that he owed it to Charlton to give him this desperate chance of remaining undiscovered and getting away afterwards.

For nearly a minute the man stood there, directly below them, glancing from side to side; then he moved on again, peering right and left into the near by bushes as he went… Gregory stifled a sigh of 'relief and, relaxing, leaned back against the tree trunk.

Gradually the sounds of the search receded and the two fugitives were able to ease their positions; butt soon afterwards he searchers reached the edge of the wood and, turning, began o come back. Once again Gregory and Freddie held their breath’s they listened to the thrusting of feet through the undergrowth and the occasional calls of one man to another; but by half past ten silence had fallen once more and it seemed that they had escaped discovery, at least for the time being.

They were more cheerful now as they argued that the gunners who had brought them down could not know that one of them was wounded; having searched the wood thoroughly would have convinced them that the fugitives were no longer there and, assuming them to have got much further afield. they would not bother to search it again. To be on the safe side the fugitives remained up the tree and as time began to hang interminably they endeavoured to pass it more quickly by swapping reminiscences. '

Gregory told Charlton the fantastic story of his adventures during the past two months which had culminated in his enabling the German Army leaders to stage a revolt against the Nazis. Freddie listened with amazed attention, not quite knowing whether to believe it all or not; but as he himself had secretly landed Gregory two months earlier outside Cologne and had picked him up again the previous night outside Berlin he had definite evidence that the lean, sinewy man beside him was not entirely romancing.

The airman's own adventures in making his secret night landings in war time Germany would have thrilled most people but he felt that they were mere child's play compared with Gregory's impersonation of a Gestapo Chief and extraordinary series of escapes; besides which, he was a modest person so he said little of them. Perhaps, however, that was partly because his thoughts were centred about a girl, one Angela Fordyce, to whom he had been engaged to be married before the war.

From his description of her it appeared that Angela was the world's prize wonder, but Gregory wrote that down by about one hundred per cent. Privately he decided that she was probably quite a pleasant looking brunette with reasonably good blue eyes and all the nice, clean, healthy instincts that an English girl should have, without any particular brain or wit; and so, admirably suited as a wife to the tall, grey eyed, fair haired young man who sat precariously perched upon the branch next to him.

It seemed, however, that Freddie Charlton had bungled the affair badly. Unlike many men of his kind he bad not considered the war a good excuse for rushing into marriage. On the contrary; he maintained that it was damnably unfair to any girl to marry her, and probably land her with a baby, if there were a reasonably good prospect of being killed oneself within the year; particularly when the ‘girl had been brought up expensively and one had no private money of one's own and so could leave her only the pension of a Flight Lieutenant. In consequence, knowing that she would not agree with him he had taken the quixotic step of writing to her on the outbreak of the war to break off his engagement, without giving any reason.

Not unnaturally, in Gregory's view, Angela had been annoyed and had demanded an explanation, upon which Freddie had made bad worse by writing to say that he had come to the conclusion that they were not suited to each other. On learning of this his best friend, one Bill Burton, had persuaded him that he had acted like a fool and had been extremely unfair both to the girl and to himself. Burton had then gone to see Angela in the hope of straightening the wretched muddle out, only to find that she had left England the day before and that it was therefore impossible for him to execute his pacific mission.

As Angela's father was in the Consular Service his being posted, without warning, to Amsterdam, and her sudden departure with him overseas, was not particularly surprising, but it had had the effect of erecting a new barrier; and, Burton's mission having been sabotaged by fate, Freddie had felt that having made his bed he had better lie on it, so had refrained from writing to her. But he was still sick with the pain he had inflicted on himself and bitterly regretted that he had not written, especially now that it looked likely that he would be interned in Germany for the rest of the war and therefore debarred from any possibility of running into Angela again if she came on a visit to London, when they might perhaps have had an explanation leading to a renewal of their happiness.

Being an eminently practical person and no mean psychologist Gregory forbore from voicing the obvious, meaningless platitudes and, instead, suggested that if only they could succeed in escaping over the frontier into Holland Freddie might see his Angela much sooner than if he had remained in London.

This cheered the airman up considerably and, as it was intended to do, gave him an additional incentive to use every ounce of his resolution in avoiding capture. He remained unaware that, the Dutch frontier being many hundreds of miles distant, Gregory did not mean to try to get out of Germany that way and, in fact, had no intention whatever of attempting to leave Germany at all until he had found Erika von Epp and could take her with him.

They stuck it out up in the tree as long as they could bear the discomfort but by early afternoon their posteriors were so sore from the knobbly branches that they were forced to abandon their hiding place and come to ground…

Freddie, who found garden produce most unsatisfactory fare [or a November day spent out in the open, suggested that they should pay another visit to the farm yard for the purpose of stealing a chicken or a goose, which they might later roast over a wood fire, but Gregory shook his head.

"It's quite on the cards that the people who were hunting us this morning have left a certain number of pickets scattered about the wood, for to day at all events. If we light a fire the sight of it or the smell of the smoke might give us away; but the idea of roast goose positively makes my mouth water so we'll see what we can do about that to morrow."

"Good God!" Charlton exclaimed. "We shall freeze in this climate if we have to spend another night without anything warm inside us."

"I'm sorry, old chap, but we've got to stick it. My fault entirely but I daren’t move on yet. This shoulder of mine is giving me hell and I'm afraid I'd only pass out on you if I attempted a cross country march to night."

Charlton stared at him with sudden concern. "Yes; you're looking pretty flushed; I believe you're running a temperature." "I am," Gregory replied.

"Then- then perhaps we'd better give ourselves up. I can’t possibly look after you properly while we're in hiding like this and your wound will only get worse if it doesn't have skilled attention."

"It's nothing much, you saw that yourself when you bathed it this morning; only a little round hole through the fleshy part of the shoulder. One of the muscles is torn but it'll soon heal up providing I don't exert myself for a day or two. If we can lie doggo in this wood for another forty eight hours I'll be all right. Anyhow, I'm damned if I'm going to chuck my hand in. Come on, let's try to find a new hide out while daylight lasts."

About six hundred yards from the house they found a small ravine, which was even more thickly covered with undergrowth than the rest of the wood, where they would be well concealed from anyone who did not walk right on to them, and sitting down in it they made themselves as comfortable as they could. Gregory lay back and closed his eyes in an attempt to sleep but his wound pained him too much and he could only hope that lying still might cause his fever to abate. Charlton sat beside him, miserable and dejected but keeping his ears strained for approaching footsteps so that they should not be caught unawares.

The afternoon drifted by and shadows began to fall. No sound disturbed the stillness and Freddie thought that Gregory was asleep until he roused up and suggested that they might as well make their evening meal. They ate a few more of the pears and some celery but having tried 'the raw carrots threw them aside as too unpalatable. A swig apiece from Gregory's flask completed the unsatisfactory repast, after which they settled down again into an uneasy silence. The evening seemed interminable as although the November day had drawn to an early lose an occasional glance at the luminous dials of their watches showed them that they still had a long time to go before it could be considered night.

Towards nine o'clock Gregory became light headed and began to mutter to himself in delirium. Freddie was at his wits end. There was nothing that he could do to aid his companion or allay the evidently rising fever. More than once he contemplated walking to the house and begging the assistance of its inmates but as he could not speak a word of German it was certain that they would telephone at once to the police and his arrest would follow almost immediately. With his fellow fugitive in such a state he felt that there was little chance of maintaining their freedom for any length of time but he knew how determined Gregory was not to give in while there was the least hope of escape, and now that the possibility of reaching Holland had been dangled before his eyes he was doubly reluctant himself to take any step which would definitely land him in a concentration camp for the rest of the war.

Towards eleven Gregory ceased his incoherent muttering and dropped into a troubled slumber, so Freddie decided to see that night through and take a fresh decision the following morning. If Gregory were better they could rediscuss the situation but if he were worse there would be nothing for it but to seek help by surrender.

Just as Freddie was settling himself down to sleep he heard footsteps approaching, then voices talking in German. Stiffening in immediate alarm he crouched there in the gully, his heart thudding against his ribs. Peering towards the sound he strained is eyes but in the darkness he could see nothing. The footsteps halted about a dozen yards away and there was further talking. His forehead was suddenly damp with sweat.

As he strove to silence his quickened breathing the awful urge to cough gripped him, as it had up in the tree. Closing his eyes he fought it down, but cramp got him in the leg that was doubled under him and he was forced to move it. The twigs snapped beneath him but just at that moment the rustling in the bushes came once more, and this time it was moving away. After a further five minutes of tense listening he grew calmer and decided that they were safe again. The sweat on his brow was turning icy with the cold. With a heavy sigh he brushed it off and, settling himself; endeavoured to court forgetfulness in sleep.

When he opened his eyes the cold light of a new day showed the trees and brambles rimed in frost. It was a fairy scene but one which filled him only with fresh dismay. He lifted the white powdered collar of Gregory's greatcoat and saw that the wounded man was pale but breathing evenly. As he sat up he heard a faint noise just behind him.

It came from the direction in which he had heard the Germans speaking in the darkness the night before. Instantly Gregory's suggestion that the gunners might leave pickets posted in the wood flashed into his mind. Swinging round very cautiously raised his head and peered between the thorny strands of the blackberry bushes.

Something grey caught his eye; it lifted a little and he saw the flat, round brim of a German officer's cap. He tried to duck back; but it was too late. A lean, grey moustached face had risen above the brambles and a pair of hard blue eyes were staring straight into his. As he instinctively rose to his feet the German stood up and his hand was already on the automatic at his belt.

Chapter III

The Colonel Baron Von Lutz

HAVING only just woken, Charlton's circulation had not yet got going; he was bitterly cold from his night in the woods and his brain was still half fogged with sleep. In addition, it was now Friday morning and he had not had a proper meal since Wednesday. Yet, in spite of his lowered vitality and half dazed condition, he realized that the only chance of escaping capture now lay in an immediate attempt to overcome this solitary German. Bracing his muscles and lowering his head he hurled himself forward.

Several feet of brambles separated them. Before Freddie had plunged a couple of paces through the tangle the officer had whipped out his automatic and ejaculated with a threatening scowl

"Holten Sie da"

The lean, grey moustached face of the German showed stern resolution; his blue eves were cold and commanding; the blue black steel barrel of the big pistol that was trained so unwaveringly upon Charlton's middle held a threat which he could not ignore. It would have been stark lunacy to force the hand of such a man with such a weapon. Pulling up with a jerk Freddie slowly raised his clenched fists above his head.

As he stared at the German he thought with bitter fury how utterly futile it had been to spend the last thirty miserable hours hiding in the wood only to be caught at last. Evidently Gregory had been quite wrong in his supposition that, having searched the wood without success, the soldiers would conclude that the fugitive airmen had succeeded in getting further afield and abandon the hunt for them there. Obviously the officer who was staring at him so intently could be in the wood only for the purpose of inspecting pickets that he had left posted in it the previous night.

When the German rapped out, "Was machen Sie hier?" it conveyed nothing to him; he could only reply

"Sorry, I don't understand."

"You are English, eh?" exclaimed the officer with evident surprise, and lowering his gun a little he added: "I asked what is it that you do in this place."

He spoke fluent, if ungrammatical, English and his question made Charlton stare, since it showed that he was not, after all, an officer of the anti aircraft battery and evidently had not heard that two enemy airmen were being sought for in the neighbourhood.

"Perhaps you'll tell us what you're doing here yourself?" said a quiet voice, and swinging round Freddie saw that the sound of talking had wakened Gregory. He was now standing up and stepped out of the gully on to the higher ground at its edge.

The German's blue eyes narrowed in a queer, uneasy look or a second, but he straightened himself and said abruptly: "I own this wood so I haf a very goot right to be here in. What two Englishmen should be making here in time of war is another question and I haf the right to demand the answer."

From where Gregory was standing he could see the officer’s rank badges and a pile of tumbled rugs round his feet. He bowed, lightly and his voice held a gentle note of amusement as he Said: "Herr Oberst, if you own this wood presumably you also own the charming little manor house just through the trees there? I have no right to question you at all but I confess that 'I’m extremely curious to know why, instead of sleeping in your own bed, you passed the night in the ditch where you are now standing."

"Enough of this!" said the Colonel, with rising irritation. "You will observe, please, that I am armed while you haf not. Reply instantlich to my question! What do you do here?"

"The same as you, apparently."

"Donnerwetter! I haf a right to camp out if I am wishing," the German snapped. "What else do you think I make but hard sleeping which for a soldier is goot?"

"Why, that you are trying to keep out of the hands of the Gestapo, of course," Gregory grinned.

For a second the Colonel's jaw dropped, then he said harshly: "Absurdity l What makes you that believe?"

"Simply because even the most hardened soldier would not spend a night in the woods at this season of the year if he could sleep in his own comfortable bed. Evidently the Putsch was a failure and you're on the run."

"ThePutsch! What do you know of that?"

"I started it." Gregory pulled back the flap of his greatcoat and displayed the Iron Cross of the First Class which was still pinned upon his chest. "For the part I played General Count von Pleisen honoured me with this. I can only say how immeasurably distressed I am to learn from your presence here, Herr Oberst, that the Nazis succeeded in suppressing the rebellion which was to have freed Germany."

The Colonel suddenly, put his pistol back in its holster and took a step forward. "Gott im Himmel.'I thought I haf somewhere seen your face. I was at der Pleisen Palest with the comradeship of officers before the Putsch when the Count decorated you. Permit that I introduce myself." Drawing himself up he clicked his heels and bowed sharply from the waist, "Oberst Baron von Lutz."

Gregory imitated the movement and rapped out his name, adding with a wave of his hand: "This is flight Lieutenant Charlton. After I'd completed my mission he was to fly me home and we left from a secret air field, east of Berlin, on the night of the 8th; but we were shot down a couple of miles on the far side of this wood and have been hiding here ever since."

"Ach so! I knew nothing of this as I escape from the Capital only last night."

"Then, I take it that all hope of the Putsch succeeding has been abandoned?"

Colonel Baron von Lutz nodded despondently. "It might haf succeeded if Hitler had been blown up in Munich as was planned, but swiftly it becomes known that he had escape the bomb and all Army leaders outside Berlin postponed action. This makes him free to concentrate his entire effort against those who in the Capital had risen. He sent bombing squadrons against us early yesterday morning which caused many casualties the Artillery and Tank Depots. Battalions of S.S. and S.A. men were rushed to the city from all quarters of the Reich. By afternoon our situation desperate became. At six o'clock five four leading Generals haf taken decision to give their brother officers chances to escape, also to save further slaughter of their men by issuing the 'Cease fire!' order and giving themselves up.

I haf the goot fortune to get away by automobile but I walked the last twelve kilometres point to point so that of the local people none should see me to my estate arrive."

"A sad ending to a gallant effort, Herr Oberst Baron," Gregory said, in an attempt to hearten the elderly officer, "but it is only a postponement. Germany will yet throw off the Nazi yoke.

"Most true. But in the meantime the names of all who attacked the Gestapo Chiefs in the Adlon and of many other officers who participated in the revolt will haf been listed. If among the dead their bodies are not found they will be hunted, as the hares, to all corners of the Reich. Few of us who were in the rising of the 8th will live to see the day of freedom."

"As far as you're concerned…" Gregory paused to step back and support himself against a tree "… since you managed to get this far there's a decent chance that you may be able to remain in hiding until the time when there is a successful revolution."

Von Lutz brushed up his grey moustache. "I shall certainly endeavour to do so; but if the Nazis hunt me out I intend to sell my life very dear."

"It seems that the three of us are in the same boat," Gregory smiled weakly; "although Charlton, here, could surrender peaceably if he wished, since when he was shot down he was acting as an R.A.F. officer on duty."

"Oh, if there's any fighting you can count me in," Freddie shrugged. "I'd rather take a chance with you two now than he starved to death in a prisoners of war camp. We couldn't put up much of a fight without arms; but perhaps the Baron could help us there?"

"Yes; arms and food that's what we need," muttered Gregory. "I'm afraid, though, that in my case I shan't be able to give much of an account of myself for a day or two."

Von Lutz gave him a searching look. "You are pale. And surely those stains under your left arm are dried blood? Are you wounded?"

"I got one through the shoulder during that fight at the Adlon. The wound's not dangerous but it's become inflamed, and I've an idea that I was delirious last night."

"You certainly were," Freddie supplemented. "How're you feeling now?"

"Pretty groggy. I'm still running a temperature."

"For a hunted man that is bad." The Baron's lined face creased into a frown. "We must do what we can for you. The Gestapo had their hands filled yesterday but by now they will on a nation wide round up haf started. They may come to make search of my house at any time. But my family and my servants will do all possible to protect me. They will keep look out while your wound is being made clean. To the house, then, gentlemen

"I hate to add to your difficulties, sir," Gregory demurred.

For the first time the lean faced Prussian aristocrat smiled. "Please. It makes nothing, as by this time there must on my own head be a price. If the coast is a clear one we will soon haf you fixed; also some breakfast which will put the better heart into us all."

As they turned towards the house Freddie saw that Gregory's teeth were chattering and that he stumbled after he had moved a few yards, upon which he jumped to his assistance, realizing that he had managed to carry on his recent conversation only by a terrific effort of will power and was still in the grip of fever. When they reached the end of the kitchen garden the Baron signed to them to halt and went forward cautiously on his own. After a moment he beckoned.

"It is goot. A towel hangs from my daughter's window. This signal I haf arranged with her."

They followed him through the orchard and up some steps to a wide veranda at the back of the low white house. Although it was not yet seven o'clock, like all German households that of Colonel Baron von Lutz was early astir. A plump maid servant in voluminous petticoats was on her knees polishing the parquet of the room into which he led them. As they entered she scrambled to her feet and bobbed before her master.

"Kuss die Hand, Herr Oberst Baron."

"Guten Tag, Lenchen,"' he nodded."Frangen Sie die Fräulein

Magda hier simptt, bitte."

The maid quickly collected her cleaning things and left the room while Freddie eased Gregory down into a near by chair. A few moments later the door opened again and a tall girl in her middle twenties came in. She was good looking in a hard, healthy way. Her hair was very fair, her eyes china blue; her skin was good and the colour in her cheeks was natural but, to Freddie, her lips and eyelashes seemed unduly pale as she wore no make up, and her strong, well proportioned figure did not show to its best advantage in the ugly ginger coloured cloth coat and skirt that she was wearing.

When she had greeted her father he rapidly explained to her in German the reason for the presence of the two strangers. Freddie could not understand what was said but he caught the phrase, "Englische Fliege", and noticed Fräulein Magda's well: cut chin lift a little as she shot a sharp glance of disapproval at him.

He was quick to sense that as a patriotic German girl she did not like the idea of sheltering her country's enemies, but evidently Prussian discipline was maintained in the household and he Baron's wish was law. She said no word of protest but went over to Gregory at once and laid a cool hand on his forehead.

His eyes were now closed and he remained slumped forward in the chair. The father and daughter exchanged a few quick sentences and then the Baron turned to Freddie.

"Your friend ought to bed be put but here it is too dangerous to offer hospitality. My daughter a trained nurse is so she will give goot attention to his wound. After, we will eat, yes; then we must to the woods return."

While Magda went for towels, hot water and bandages Charlton and the Baron partially undressed Gregory, who had now lapsed into semi consciousness and become delirious again.

When she returned they found that the wound was suppurating badly. The flesh all round it was hot and puffy and when its temperature was taken it registered the Centigrade equivalent of to 103.6 Fahrenheit. Having cleaned the wound and applied got fomentations Magda dressed it with quick, efficient fingers, then directed them in making Gregory as comfortable as possible on a sofa.

Freddie was now seriously alarmed for him but since there was nothing else they could do he allowed his host to lead him into another room. Breakfast had been laid there, and as they were about to sit down, an elderly woman came bustling in whom yon Lutz introduced as his wife.

The Frau Baronin was fat, grey haired and had a rather stupid face which was only relieved by china blue eyes like her daughter's. She spoke no English and after greeting Charlton with a nervous smile remained silent, her thoughts evidently occupied by acute anxiety about her husband.

Owing to the Baron's having had to spend a night in the woods a special breakfast had been prepared. In addition to the usual cereals there was a roast hare. the tantalizing odour of which made Freddie realize his hunger to such an extent that it was only with difficulty he prevented himself from eating ravenously. Somewhat to his surprise, there was a big pat of fresh butter, but this, von Lutz told him, came from the home farm. There were also ample supplies of potato bread and home made jam. The only weakness in an otherwise excellent meal was the weak coffee substitute with which they had to wash it down.

During breakfast the Baron explained to Freddie the precautions he had taken to prevent their being surprised. Most of the men from the estate had been called up for the war but he still had half a dozen, over fifty„ working on the place as farm labourers and foresters. On his arrival the night before he had had them aroused from their beds and brought to the house so that he could explain his position to them. All of them came from local families who had served his own for several generations. Such of their younger members as had become influenced by the Nazi doctrines had been conscripted for the Army, but these older men were completely loyal.

On their expressing their willingness to do everything they could to shield him von Lutz had organized them into watches which were to take turns in guarding the approaches to the house. Each man would be carrying a shot gun during his turn on duty and if cars or any suspicious looking strangers appeared whoever saw them was to fire off first one barrel of his gun then, after half a minute's interval, the other, as though shooting at a rabbit. The sentries were half a mile away but in the clear country air the sound of the shots would easily carry that distance and give sufficient time for the fugitives to escape out of the house into the woods again.

Magda had tackled the maid servants and farm women, who had all sworn that no questioning would induce them to say that they had seen anything of the Colonel Baron since he had last been home on leave in the first week of October.

When breakfast was over it was decided that Gregory must be carried out to the woods again and while von Lutz went upstairs to the attic to get an old camp bed that they could use as a stretcher Magda fed the sick man with some spoonfuls of hot broth. Having fixed up the bed she packed round him all the hot water bottles that could be found in the house, to keep him as warm as possible, then wrapped him in blankets; after which the Baron and Freddie carried him on the improvised stretcher out through the garden and back to the gully where they had spent the previous night.

By daylight they were able to find a better place in which to conceal themselves than any they had yet discovered. Some twenty yards further into the wood the gully grew deeper; the side of the bank was nearly five feet high and had fallen away 'leaving a hollow that was overhung by a mass of brambles. They placed Gregory's bed in it and sat down near by to await events.

Although the pale sunlight of the November morning was now slanting through the leafless branches of the trees it was still very cold. In his pocket Freddie had an old fashioned revolver, given him by the Baron: the only weapon, apart from sporting guns, that the house contained, but that was not much comfort. It seemed pretty certain that Gestapo agents would visit the house some time during the day. If one of the farmhands proved unreliable, or one of the women servants broke down under the questioning which they would have to face, the Nazis would surround the hiding place and capture was certain. In any case, with the climate against them and a desperately ill man on their hands, Freddie did not see how they could possibly remain at large for long. But he was in this thing and he could only wait, with the best patience he could muster, to see what the day would bring.

Chapter IV

"Hands up, Herr Oberst Baron!"

WAITING there would have proved an incredibly tedious business had not the Baron proved a most knowledgeable man and a great talker. He had travelled considerably in his time and had friends in many countries so he deplored the post Great War era in which the policies of most European nations had led to the shutting off of one from the other.

As he pointed out, previously to 1914 passports had been unknown unless a European was travelling to some semi barbarous country where he might need official aid in securing means of transport or other assistance. Apart from that, men of every nation had been free to come and go without let or hindrance and could even settle in foreign countries without restriction if they wished.

In France, England, Italy and Scandinavia there had been thousands of Germans earning an honest living and abiding loyally by the laws of the countries that gave them hospitality. This freedom of movement and often permanent interchange of peoples had been enabling the European nations to get to know and appreciate one another's qualities in an ever increasing degree throughout the whole of the last century. Englishmen had found with some surprise that Frenchmen did not exist solely upon a diet of frogs, and Germans had been able to see for themselves that all Englishwomen did not have flat chests and protruding teeth. Had that state of things continued for another half century, with facilities for travel becoming ever easier, faster and cheaper, the constant mingling of the nationalities on a friendly footing might well have created a mass goodwill strong enough to prevent any Government from daring to declare war on its neighbours; the more so as, by the fact that there was then no restriction on Germans, English, Americans, Italians or anyone else living in any country that they chose,

the whole question of living room seemed already to have been solved.

That splendid prospect of a possible permanent peace had been shattered by the war of 191418; after which both victors and vanquished had been faced by the terrible problem of construction and through huge unemployment figures in their own countries had been compelled to put a bar up against migration from abroad. That, maintained Colonel Baron von, Lutz, was the root cause of this new struggle in which the major nations were now engaged. Germany was not a rich country compared with many other European states and she had even been robbed of such Colonial possessions as she had had; yet the German race was breeding just as fast as ever. Therefore they just either be given over seas territory or, better still, be allowed free ingress to other countries for their surplus population; otherwise the standard of life in Germany would become a lowered by more and more people trying to cut a slice off a single loaf that anarchy would inevitably result.

He was not a Nazi and most strongly deprecated Hitler's power politics and disregard of Germany's word pledged by solemn treaty; but he argued that eighty million people, representing one of the most advanced races in the world, could not, be expected calmly to sit still and allow themselves to be gradually starved to death. Hence the German people as a whole had Become desperate and had allowed Hitler to lead them into the present assault upon the great Democracies.

Charlton, who had done a short course at the College of imperial Defence, pointed out that the problem of giving Germany back her Colonies was by no means as simple as it looked. Where, he asked, would Britain be now if Germany had not been deprived of her African possessions after the last Great War? In the last half dozen years Hitler would have established huge arsenals and air bases in German West, Tanganyika and the Cameroon ’s and would have turned their ports into heavily fortified lairs for great flotillas of commerce raiders and submarines. The coming of the aeroplane, the increased range of U boats and fast motorcraft, the destructive power of mines and direct communication by wireless had absolutely revolutionized strategy in the last quarter of a century and would have made such enemy bases a hundred times more potent as factors in the struggle than they were in 1914. With them in her hands Germany would have been able totally to disrupt Britain 's sea traffic in both the South Atlantic and the Indian Ocean, cutting her and France off entirely from the Eastern hemisphere in which lay the greater part of both their Empires. In addition Hitler's African bombing squadrons would have had Johannesburg, Cairo, Cape Town and the Suez Canal at their mercy; and any determined attempt to protect these African territories would have necessitated Britain and France detaching so large a proportion of their Air Forces from the main theatre of operations that they could have been left virtually defenceless at home. A Blitzkrieg then might even have caused the Democracies to lose the war. Freddie paled with his intensity as he added firmly: "That is why never, never again must Germany be allowed to hold one square mile of African soil."

As a soldier von Lutz readily conceded the terrible threat to the security of the British Empire which would lie in the return of the German Colonies, if Germany had an ambitious or unscrupulous ruler, but he submitted that whatever peace plan was eventually agreed the German people must be given an opportunity for expansion, otherwise such a peace could only be the forerunner of yet a third Great War when there had been a sufficient interval for Germany to pile up yet more armaments. In his view the only permanent solution lay not in giving Germany territories of her own outside the Reich but in once again opening up all countries to all peoples.

While agreeing in theory Charlton suggested that the difficulty would be the different standards of living demanded by different nationalities. The Germans, for example, were used to working much longer hours than the British and the people of many other countries were content to live on a much lower scale than either so far as food and clothing were concerned. Therefore a great influx of foreigners into Britain or the United States would mean huge unemployment among the British or Americans themselves and tend to draw down their scale of Living, which they were naturally anxious to protect.

But the Baron did not seem to think that that would necessarily follow. He argued that, on the contrary, if the Trades Unions played their proper part the scale of living in the more prosperous countries could be maintained and that of other countries gradually brought up to it; thereby eventually making life happier and more secure for mankind throughout the whole world.

As they talked on Freddie learned many things about Nazi Germany and was the more readily able to understand why such great numbers of the Germans were behind Hitler at all events, for the moment when he heard the Baron describe the drastic changes many for the better which the Socialist activities of the National Socialist Party had brought to the German masses. On his asking what proportion of the German people von Lutz thought was really whole heartedly with the ' Führer the Baron replied:

"I give you analysis 'of this question. Ten per cent of the people are very much pro Nazi and ten per cent of the people are very much anti Nazi. The other eighty per cent, they haf not he brain to think for the selves at all. They are led most times by the pro Nazi Press and believe that Chamberlain deliberately planned their country to encircle. Each time Hitler as a diplomatic triumph gained they haf shouted their heads off in applause. That eighty per cent was right through in favour of he Anschluss with Austria; also the annexation of Czechoslovak and the war with Poland. Now they wait only to cheer for Hitler again if he any spectacular military success over the Allies can make. Against that, they will make cheers for him as long as he makes successes and they get enough to eat; because they do not live happy under the Nazi regime and are called upon many comforts to sacrifice. If things go very bad in Germany during the next few months through the Blockade, or Hitler makes a Blitzkrieg which is no goot, that eighty percent will turn coats in a flash; perhaps set off only by sortie little thing; but instead of making cheers for him they will be yelling for his head."

At half past twelve Magda came out, bringing with her a Welcome hot lunch. Gregory had fallen into a troubled sleep so they did not disturb him but hoped that he would sleep on, as complete rest was what he needed. They ate the meal while she waited with them and when she had gone settled themselves to try to pass a little time by dozing where they sat. At three they roused up again and lit cigarettes.

It was soon afterwards that they distinctly heard two reports echo through the wood, and realized with quick apprehension that one of the sentries had sighted suspicious visitors. From 'fear that the smell or sight of the smoke might betray them if some of the Gestapo men, who were probably arriving, came out through the back of the house and began poking about on the fringe of the wood, they stubbed out their cigarettes; then couched down in the gully under cover of the brambles and waited in anxious silence.

For over an hour they remained there listening for the lightest footfalls but nothing stirred in the wood except the occasional flutter of a bird or the scampering of some small animal in the undergrowth. At last, as the shadows were beginning to fall they heard a rustling which gradually grew nearer and, peering through the bushes, von Lutz saw that it was the maid, Lenchen.

She was gathering sticks in her outspread apron and as he watched he saw that she was working her way towards them. Two minutes later, without looking at him, she stooped for some, sticks on the edge of the gully and whispered swiftly:

"Do not show yourself, Herr Oberst Baron. Two car loads of Black Guards arrived at ten past three; they ransacked the house, the barns and the outbuildings, but found nothing. They appeared to be satisfied after they had questioned us, as we all said that we had not seen you since the first week in October, and the cars have just driven off back to Brandenburg; but they have left two of the men behind who are to be billeted in the house in case you should suddenly arrive here. Fraulein Magda sent me to tell you this and to explain that she may not be able to bring your Abendessen at the usual hour in case they suspect and follow her; but one of us will manage to slip out with cold food for you some time during the evening."

As the girl talked she kept moving, and having delivered her message she began to work her way back to the house, gathering more firewood as she went.

"Teufel Nochmal!" exclaimed the Baron, when she had disappeared among the tree trunks. "This is bad worse than what I fear." And having explained to Freddie what had happened, he added: "I haf goot reason to expect they visit my house but after they find I am not at home I believe they get out; then we are safe to move ourselves and your friend in bed to put. But now that is not possible."

"It looks as though we'll have to spend another night in the woods, then," Freddie said miserably and, as that seemed the only thing they could do, they resigned themselves to a cold and dreary evening.

At ten o'clock Magda came out to them with a bundle of rugs in which were wrapped a bottle of hock, a thermos flask full of hot soup and some packets of cold meat, bread and Appfel kuchen. She said that the two Nazis who had billeted themselves in the manor were not unfriendly and appeared to have no suspicion that her father might already have arrived there or be in hiding in the neighbourhood. Nevertheless, they seemed confident that sooner or later he would make his way to his own home and had declared their intention of remaining there until he put in an appearance. They had also threatened all the servants with the direst penalties if at any time the Colonel Baron arrived by stealth and they warned him that Gestapo agents were waiting in the manor for him.

Gregory, who had been sleeping or dozing in a semi conscious state most of the day, roused up while they were talking and Magda examined his wound by the light of a torch. It showed no sign of improvement and he was still feverish. Now that any hope of getting him properly to bed in the warm house had had to be abandoned they were more anxious than ever about him, but there was little they could do, so having settled him as comfortably as possible Magda gave him some aspirins and, promising to come out again as early as she could the next morning, she left them.

After eating their supper, which to some degree restored their cheerfulness, the Baron and Freddie settled down under their rugs for the night; but it was long before they could get to sleep, as the cold was more bitter than ever and about midnight snow began to fall.

When Freddie woke it was still pitch dark and glancing at the luminous dial of his watch he saw that it was only a quarter to three. His movement roused von Lutz and for a little time they talked together in low voices. Snow was falling heavily and as Gregory's camp bed occupied the only sheltered space Beneath the bank it had begun to settle on their rugs and faces in a thick white powder.

At last they could bear the cold no longer so decided to walk about in an attempt to restore their circulation. The contents of Gregory's flask had already been used up, but van Lutz had another, which he shared with Freddie as they stumbled up and town a patch of ground that was fairly free from undergrowth.

Their misery and distress during the next four hours were almost indescribable. On two occasions they tried to sleep again but the warmth of their bodies melted the snow which had fallen on their garments so that these had become half sodden and they found it impossible to remain still for any length of time. In the early hours of the morning their difficulties were further increased by a bout of delirium which seized Gregory in its grip. he was completely off his head and 'fighting the battle in the Adlon' over and over again, shouting curses, threats and warnings interspersed with heart rending cries that he must save Erika because Grauber would "Torture her torture her torture her!"

In the silence of the snow carpeted wood his agonized shouts seemed so loud that von Lutz feared they might rouse the Gestapo men in the house half a mile away; so he and Charlton had to muffle the injured man's ravings by putting a handkerchief over his mouth and to frustrate his attempts to fling him self about, which would have caused his wound to start bleeding again, by holding him down.

When dawn came they were utterly exhausted. The Baron was grey faced and heavy eyed; Freddie had a splitting head and a horrible taste in his mouth; both felt as though they had been up for a week and were so numb from the cold that they feared, frost bite. Gregory had lapsed into unconsciousness again but` his head looked like that of a corpse. His cheeks had fallen in and were leaden coloured under a three days' growth of beard the skin across his forehead was taut, with little beads of perspiration standing out upon it, and his mouth sagged open a though the muscles of his face had relaxed in death.

At seven o'clock, Magda arrived, bringing breakfast. The previous night her unwelcome guests had said that having nothing to do they did not wish to be called till eight o'clock and she had had food prepared early so that she could get it out of the house before they were about. With hands shaking from the cold her father and Charlton took the welcome bowl of hot stew which she had brought them and the big hunks of bread to dip into it, while she examined Gregory.

After a moment she turned and shrugged her shoulders. "He is much worse and there is nothing I can do. Another night like this and he will die here."

"That must not be allowed," said her father quickly.

She gave him a sullen look. "What does it matter? He is an Englishman."

As she was speaking in German Freddie could not understand what she said but he sensed the gist of her remarks and her hostility.

The Prussian aristocrat's voice was terrifyingly stern as he replied: "Speak only of what you understand, girl. This man risked his life in an attempt to bring about peace and enable us to create a free and better Germany. He is our guest and no effort must be spared or risk remain un run which will aid his recovery. Go now and send Hans Foldar to me immediately."

"Yes, Father." Magda murmured with sudden meekness, and wrapping her shawls about her she hurried away to do his bidding. "

For three quarters of an hour they waited then they heard footfalls crunching the newly fallen snow. Von Lutz peered out from his hiding place then stood up to greet a tall, broad shouldered man of about sixty wearing the top boots, leather jerkin and fur cap of a forester.

"You sent for me Herr Oberst Baron" the man inquired in a hoarse voice.

"Yes, Hans. You know the situation I am in and are loyally helping to protect me from the Gestapo. That would get you into serious trouble if it became known, but now I have an even greater service to ask of you; one which would certainly mean death for you if you were caught. If this weather continues and I fear it will we can't last long out here in the woods. If we don't die from cold we shall certainly lose our toes and fingers by frost bite. Moreover, one of these two friends of mine is wounded and may die unless we can get him into shelter. Are you willing to receive myself and these gentlemen in your cottage?"

"Certainly, Herr Oberst Baron. All that I have came from you and. Your family so it is yours to dispose of."

"Thank you, Hans. I felt certain that I could rely on you, but I should tell you that these two friends of mine are Englishmen; one is an officer of the British Air Force and the wounded than is a British Secret Service agent who is wanted by the Gestapo. They were in the plane which was shot down a few miles from here three nights ago."

"The Herr Oberst Baron knows best. If he thinks it right to protect them that is sufficient for me, too."

"Come, then; let's get the wounded man to your cottage as soon as possible. It's going to be a hard job to carry him all that way but we'll manage it somehow."

The Baron informed Charlton of the arrangement he had made and again using the camp bed as a stretcher the three of them set off through the woods with the unconscious Gregory. Von Lutz and Freddie carried the bed while Hans picked' the easiest way between the snow covered bushes. It was a two mile tramp but at last they reached the forester's cottage.

Hans Foldar went in first to prepare his wife. She accepted without argument his decision to shelter their master and his friends and at once they began to plan how best to conceal the fugitives. It was decided that the loft above the kitchen sitting room would be the best place and. Gregory having been carried in, after some difficulty they got him and the camp bed up there. Von Lutz then sent Hans to tell Magda to come to them with linen and bandages as soon as she could slip away from the house without being seen by the Nazis.

Frau Foldar, who was a buxom, middle aged woman, provided the refugees with a midday meal of vegetable stew and in the early afternoon Magda arrived with the things that her father had sent for. They were then able to undress Gregory., treat his wound with hot fermentations again and put him back in the camp bed after it had been properly made up with sheets and blankets. Meanwhile Hans brought in straw from his barn to make up two shake downs in the loft for his master and Charlton.

Gregory's temperature became still higher in the evening and it strained the nerves of those who were with him to listen to his monotonous ravings; but by nine o'clock he had dropped into unconsciousness again. His two companions were then able to relax and settle down to a much more comfortable night than they had known since the abortive Putsch on the previous Wednesday.

The next day, Sunday the t2th, proved the crisis in Gregory's illness but by evening his fever had worn itself out and although very weak he regained consciousness for the first time in many hours.

In the days that followed he gradually began to mend. The handsome, hard faced Magda managed to visit them each morning or afternoon, varying the times of her daily excursions so as not to arouse the suspicion of her unwelcome guests and always approaching the cottage by way of the woods in its rear. As well as treating Gregory’s wound she brought parcels of such luxuries as she could acquire locally to supplement the frugal fare which was all that the Foldars could provide. There was no actual shortage of food and, apart from lack of sugar, rationing did not worry them, as the country people evaded surrendering a considerable proportion of their produce to the authorities; but delicacies were rare and imported foods had entirely disappeared. Magda also brought them what news she could but little was coming through.

Six Nazis had been killed and sixty three injured by the Munich bomb explosion which, according to an announcement made by Himmler, had been plotted by the British Government the previous August and carried out by British Secret Service agents who had bribed a workman, employed on repairs in the Bierhaller, to place the bomb. No one believed this, as it was generally known that a most terrible purge was taking place throughout the length and breadth of Germany. Every effort was being made to suppress particulars of the military revolt in Berlin spreading to other parts of the Reich but many hundreds of officers, intellectuals and industrialists had been arrested while others had gone into hiding or escaped into neutral countries.

With the Nazis in the house Magda and her mother dared not listen to the foreign broadcasts, since the penalty for being caught was six months in a concentration camp for the first offence and death for the second, so for most of their news they had to rely on the German stations and such accounts of the war as appeared in the Nazi controlled Press.

The tension with Belgium and Holland had died down and a Foreign Office spokesman had declared that the Reich would respect the neutrality of both countries provided that Britain and France continued to do so.

The German Air Force had become much more active. Reconnaissance squadrons had photographed many British military areas, even in the estuary of the Thames, without opposition; successful raids had been carried out against British shipping and for the first time in the war German airmen had actually dropped bombs on British soil, in the Shetlands.

Time would have hung heavily on their hands had it not been for the magazines which Magda provided, out of which von Lutz read translations to Charlton, and also attempted to teach the young airman German.

Freddie was not a good linguist and he progressed slowly but by the time they had been in the cottage for a fortnight he could speak enough German to ask for anything he wanted and to carry on a halting conversation. Each night he and von Lutz got air and exercise by walking in the woods at the back of the cottage, since after the first few days it became apparent that the Nazis who had been left at the house to await the appearance of the Baron still had no suspicion that he was in the neighbourhood and, after depleting his cellar, went to bed at a regular hour.

By Saturday, the 18th of 'November. Gregory had recovered sufficiently to be able to get up for the first time and by the following Tuesday he had his arm out of the sling. The wound was only a small one, and once the poison had been checked and the inflammation had gone down it had healed rapidly.

It was during this week end that they heard the first news of the Czech rebellion. The village schoolmaster had returned from his unit in Prague on special leave, to see his dying mother, and, according to his account, at least twelve, and possibly more, Czech students had been shot by the Gestapo for anti German demonstrations. Baron von Neurath, as Governor of the Protectorate had ordered the Universities to be closed for three years. Prague was in a state of open revolt when the schoolmaster left and he said that the anti German feeling was so strong that even before the revolt German soldiers had not been allowed out at night in the city in parties of less than six, for fear of assassination.

The account of conditions there as retailed by Magda reminded Gregory of the state of things in Ireland after the Great War and he recalled the stories that he had heard about British officers, stationed in Dublin, being sandbagged and thrown into the Liffey. That the extremist section of the Irish still bore Britain a bitter grudge was evidenced by the activities of the I.R.A.; out of which the German broadcasts made much capital. It had recently been reported that their fanatics had brought off four successful bomb outrages in the West End of London, and the Nazis were cock a hoop about it.

By Thursday, the fifteenth day after he had received his injury, Gregory was able to use his arm again without any danger of the wound's reopening. In himself he was now very fit and for some days he had been able to accompany von Lutz and Charlton on their nightly walk in the woods, which was the only exercise they dared to take and a great relief to them after laving been cooped up all day in the loft for fear of running into the two Nazis who were billeted in the manor house.

On Friday the 21st, the news was by no means so good for he two Englishmen and they had to repress their feelings to the best of their ability as Magda recounted, with a glee that she did got attempt to conceal, the results of Hitler's releasing one of its much vaunted secret weapons, the magnetic mine.

Apparently the campaign had been launched the previous week end and twenty five ships were already reported to have fallen victims to the new weapon. That the majority of them where neutrals did not seem to cause Magda any concern, since like many Germans her theory of warfare was, `all who are not with us are against us'. In secret Gregory had a certain sympathy for her attitude as it was entirely owing to his own complete unscrupulousness against his enemies that he had survived to the age of thirty nine.

That Friday Magda also brought news that Himmler had explained the Munich bomb plot. Georg Elser, a thirty six ear old workman, had been arrested and had confessed to having planted the bomb’ at the order of Otto Strasser, a former associate of Hitler's who had turned against him and was now said to be directing the anti Nazi Black Front from Paris. According to Himmler the British Secret Service was also involved and two of its members, Best and Stevens, had been arrested on the Dutch frontier trying to come into Germany on November the 9th.

As they were said to be attempting to come into Germany the day after the bomb had exploded this hardly made sense. But the more intelligent Germans had long since given up trying to make sense out of the so often contradictory statements of the Nazi leaders who were obviously using all the influence they had to sway the Führer and the German people in favour of their individual policies.

By the middle of this the third week after the abortive Putsch Gregory was beginning to get restive. He pointed out that, grateful as he and Charlton were to von Lutz for concealing them, they could not remain there indefinitely. Every day and every night of his convalescence he had spent hours of misery wondering what had become of Erika. With iron control he had curbed his impatience to be off to Berlin in search of news of her until he should he really fit to face hardships and danger again. Now he grudged every further hour's delay. Freddie, too, had remained inactive only through necessity. The thought that if he could get into Holland he would be able to see Angela and patch up his quarrel with her made him discount the difficulties and perils of such a journey. Only on account of Gregory's state had he refrained from urging an attempt to get out of German earlier. Neither disclosed to the other his special reason for being so desperately anxious to set off, but once the subject was broached it was clear that both were in favour of starting at the earliest possible moment.

Von Lutz declared that he intended to stay where he was until the two Nazis had become tired of sitting doing nothing in his house, when he would be able to move to it and remain in hiding in more comfortable quarters; but he expressed his willingness to aid the two Englishmen by every means in his power.

The question was raised and settled on the morning of Sunday, the 6th, and when Magda came to the cottage that afternoon von Lutz discussed the matter with her; upon which it was agreed that she should come to the cottage again that night, after the two Nazis had gone to bed, bringing with her a complete outfit of the Baron's civilian clothes for Charlton, a civilian overcoat for Gregory and a small stock of tinned good, from a store that had been laid in before the war to serve as iron rations until the fugitives got well away from the district.

The wintry daylight was already fading by the time Magda left and darkness fell soon after, but they knew that they had to wait for hours yet before it would be safe for her to leave the house with the things she was to bring and make her way back to them by the forest path. Von Lutz drew a rough map of the surrounding country as a guide for them in the first part of their flight but there were no other preparations they could make, and now that they were keyed up to start the time seemed to hang interminably. At last, shortly before midnight, Magda arrived, but she carried no bundle and one glance was enough to show that she was in a state of great distress.

Her father questioned her anxiously but she only stared at him, wild eyed and speechless. Gregory took her by the arm and shook her. Suddenly she burst into tears and between her sobs the whole sordid story came out. One of the Nazis. a brawny young man named Carl Dietrich, had taken a fancy to her immediately on his arrival at the house and had been paying her the most unwelcome attentions ever since. These had led up to violent scenes in which he had demanded to know how she, the daughter of a traitor colonel, dared to put on airs with a member of the Black Guards, Hitler's chosen legion, picked for their strength and fitness. whom any German girl should be proud to sleep with. She had not told her father this before, for fear of what he might do, but recently, with no one in the house o whom she could turn for protection, her situation had become desperate: on several occasions during the past week Dietrich had tried to get into her room.

That night he had smashed the lock on the door and forced his way in. Contrary to his expectations, he had not found Magda in bed, but busy packing up the parcel of clothes she meant to bring to the cottage.

For a moment it had seemed that he guessed the purpose of her preparations although she had swiftly assured him that the parcel was intended for a Brandenburg charity organization.

But she had felt it so vital to her father's safety that the Nazi's mind should be immediately and completely diverted from the question of the clothes that instead of calling her mother and the servants to assist her to get him out of her room she had begged him to be quiet so as not to wake them. That was enough to turn his thoughts to his original purpose in breaking in on her and to convince him that her resistance so far had only been feigned. With an ear to ear grin he had begun to unbuckle his belt and she had forced herself to allow him to make love to her. After he left her she had not dared to bring the clothes since, if he remembered about them, she would have to produce them the following day and ' let him see her dispatch them to Brandenburg.

As he listened von Lutz went white with rage and his hands began to tremble. Immediately Magda had finished sobbing out her tale he declared his intention of going up to the house there and then to drag the Nazi from his bed and shoot him.

Gregory, Charlton and, above all, Magda endeavoured to dissuade him from this step which would almost inevitably cost him his own life, but the thought that his daughter had been seduced, against her will, by one of these blackguards made the Prussian nobleman furiously reject any counsel of caution.

It had taken the best part of twenty minutes to piece together Magda's half incoherent ramblings and get the full story from her. For another quarter of an hour they stood there in the kitchen sitting room, wrangling together and trying to turn her outraged father from his purpose, but at last, seeing that the Baron was determined on vengeance, Gregory said with a wry grin

"All right; since you're absolutely set on it Charlton and I will go with you and we'll settle the two of them. No man who wears the uniform of a Nazi Storm Trooper is fit to live. You'll then have at least some chance of getting away with us. They probably only have to report to their boss in Brandenburg once a week and if we're lucky we'll have several days' start before it's known that your unwelcome guests have been eliminated."

In spite of Magda's renewed pleading they began to make their preparations. The Baron had his automatic and plenty of ammunition for it; Freddie had the ‘old fashioned revolver with which von Lutz had furnished him on their first day in the woods together while Gregory was still delirious. In order that

They might put up a good fight if their hiding place were discovered, and they had to resist an attack, four sporting guns had also been smuggled to it from the manor house by Hans. Gregory selected one of these and stuffed his pockets full of cartridges.

"Ready?" asked von Lutz impatiently.

The other two nodded, and shaking hands with Hans Foldar and his wife they thanked them most heartily for all that they had done for them. With a brief glance at Magda, who was now weeping on Frau Folder’s ample bosom, the Baron threw open the cottage door.

The moon, which was at full that night was hidden by dense banks of cloud so it was dark outside and he stood clearly outlined against the light within. As he moved towards the open doorway Gregory's quick ears caught the scraping of feet on the garden path. Temporarily blinded by the bright light in the cottage he could see nothing out there in the black night but felt a sudden apprehension.

Had Carl Dietrich, after all guessed the real use to which the clothes Magda was packing up were to be put? Had he, decided that there was plenty of time to take the girl first and catch her father afterwards? Had he not gone to bed as she supposed, but roused his companion, lain in wait and followed? her out through the woods? Were the two Nazi Storm Troopers standing there at the bottom of the path, hidden by the darkness, with their automatics already drawn?

Next second he knew. A guttural voice rapped out:, "Hands up, Herr Oberst Baron You are our prisoner."

Chapter V

Death in the Forest

IT was Gregory who gained thirty seconds' breathing space for his friends. He had been carrying his shot gun waist high, at the ready; without an instant's hesitation he loosed off both barrels into the darkness.

The double bang sounded like a thunder clap as its echo rolled across the still countryside and the bright flash lit the scene as vividly as a streak of lightning. There were not only the two Storm Troopers whom they expected to see a dozen yards away, but a whole group bunched up round the garden gate; dark figures caught by the flash in the act of drawing their guns as they ran forward.

Had von Lutz fired his automatic, or Charlton the old revolver, it was unlikely, since neither of them could see their target, that their bullets would have hit more than one or, at most, two of the oncoming group. But the wide spread of the shot from Gregory's double barrelled fowling piece caused absolute havoc.

Cries, curses, groans rent the night as the tiny pellets zipped into the faces and limbs of the Nazis like the blows from a hundred whips, causing them to reel about in utter confusion.

Within a second of having fired Gregory was back inside the cottage. Von Lutz and Charlton tumbled in beside him and the three of them swung to the heavy door.

"Mein Gott! There are ten or a dozen of them “gasped the Baron. "And I thought there were only two "

"Directly Dietrich smelt a rat he must have telephoned for reinforcements from Branderburg," said Gregory, "but they've got out here mighty quickly."

"Dornitz is much nearer only three miles away and he could have got them from the local Nazi headquarters there." "They came in a motor truck," added Freddie. "I saw it by the flash of the shot gun. It's parked down the road about forty cards away."

As he spoke bullets began to thud into the wood of the cottage door. One of the Nazis was spraying it with a sub machinegun which kicked up a hellish clatter. Gregory and von Lutz jumped back towards the fireplace while Freddie sprang in the other direction.

"Keep away from that window'. " yelled Gregory; and just as Charlton ducked the hidden glass was shattered by a burst of fire from automatic pistols, the bullets ripping through the curtains.

Magda was standing, white faced but upright, in a corner. Frau Foldar was crouching in a chair near her, weeping into her apron. She knew only too well that having hidden her master now meant certain death for her husband and herself.

"Where's Hans?" asked von Lutz suddenly.

"He- he ran out of the back door just-just after Herr Sallust fired," sobbed the distraught wife.

"We'd best try and get out that way, too," cried Gregory above the din, and grabbing Magda by the arm he pulled her down beside him so that they could crawl along the floor under the level of the window through which bullets were still streaming. Charlton and the Colonel seized Frau Foldar and between them dragged her after the others.

Gasping with relief they drew themselves upright at the far end of the room and staggered out into the tiny passage. The back door of the cottage stood open, just as Hans had left it in his flight. The passage, which barely held them all was unlit, to from it they could make out faintly the sky line of the woods and the trunks of the nearest tees.

"Let me go first," said Gregory, thrusting Magda aside and stepping towards the open. door, "and for God's sake go quietly! "

Suddenly a flash stabbed the outer darkness and Magda gave a strangled cry. One of the S.S. men had already come round to the back of the cottage and had fired from behind a tree. His bullet had missed Gregory by a fraction of an inch and had caught Magda in the neck. As she fell her father fired over her shoulder at the flash of the Nazi's pistol. He had pressed down his trigger and was emptying the whole contents of his automatic into the open doorway.

Gregory and Charlton had flung themselves flat, dragging Frau Foldar with them. Magda, choking blood, had slipped down among them, so von Lutz alone remained a target for the Nazi's fire. One bullet whipped through the skirt of his greatcoat, another tore the epaulette on his shoulder, but his escape was miraculous as the burst of shots thudded into the woodwork about him, and a sudden wavering cry from outside, in the dead silence that followed the burst, told that he had got his man.

Charlton began to drag Magda back into the kitchen sitting room but Gregory edged forward again towards the back door. As he did so a tommy gun opened, sending a stream of lead over his head. Other Nazis had now come round to the back of the cottage and escape that way was impossible.

Turning, he found von Lutz crouching beside him on the floor. The Baron raised his automatic again, fired twice at the flash of the sub machine gun, then with his free hand swung to the door. Springing up, Gregory secured it by thrusting the thick wooden bar home into its socket.

Back in the kitchen they found Frau Foldar trying to staunch Magda's wound while Freddie stood helplessly beside her; but the old woman's efforts were of no avail. The bullet had cut Magda's jugular vein; blood poured from it like a river, drenching her clothes and forming great pools upon the floor. She was already dead, having succumbed within thirty seconds of the bullet's hitting her.

Covering her face, the others began a rapid consultation. "We're trapped! " said Gregory. "No hope of getting alive out of this place either way."

"We will some of these swine to hell send before they get us, though," muttered the Baron grimly.

"If we've got to die anyway, wouldn't it be best to surrender?" asked Charlton.'

"What?" exclaimed van Lutz in astonishment; then he added more quietly: "Of course, you can your hand throw in if you wish but I'll first see them in Hell."

"I wasn't thinking of myself," said Freddie, "but of Frau Foldar. If we let them shoot this place to bits she'll probably be killed too, whereas by giving ourselves up we might at least save her life."

The colonel shrugged. "I apologize. But you shall take my word that nothing we can do will make them to spare her, since she shelter us here."

"That's so." Gregory gave a grim chuckle. "You don't know these Nazis, Freddie. my boy. They'd butcher a twelve year old child for having given a drink of water to a blind man if he had ever raised a finger against Hitler. Come on, let's get the other shot guns and see if we can't dust up some of these embryo Himmler’s before they rush the place."

For the past two minutes there had been a lull in the firing, only an occasional bullet whacking through the curtains of the Window or splintering the woodwork of the door. The cottage consisted of only two rooms and the loft above which had been used by the three fugitives during the past fortnight.

"You two stay here and I'll take the bedroom in case some of them try to get in through the window there," said von Lutz, and he left the others abruptly.

There was only one window in each room and both fronted on the lane; so Gregory felt that they might be able to hold the place for some time if they were careful not to expose themselves unnecessarily, although he knew that sooner or later there could be only one end to such an uneven combat.

"We must try to draw their fire," he said to Freddie. "We'll use that fur cap that Hans left behind. Put it on the end of that stick and thrust it up under the curtains when I give the word. It will part them just enough to show a streak of light and they'll see the cap outlined against it."

Charlton grabbed the cap and stick and together they crawled across the floor. Gregory put his hand up and felt along he lower part of the window. The Nazis' bullets had shattered he glass leaving only the empty frame. Very cautiously he poked his shot gun out of one corner and warily raised his head until he could see along the barrel; then he whispered: `Ready now?"

Still kneeling on the floor Freddie thrust up the big fur cap end parted the curtains a little where they met across the centre of the window. Instantly there was a burst of fire and a hail of shots smacked into the cap, knocking the stick on which it was supported out of his hands.

Gregory had marked the nearest flashes and loosed off both barrels of his gun, hoping for a double. A he ducked back howls of pain told him that some of his pellets had found a resting place in human flesh.

A second later the Nazis brought a sub machine gun into fiction. There was a deafening roar as it sent a stream of lead through the empty window frame; cutting one of the curtains nearly in half so that the torn part sagged down disclosing a large triangle of the lighted room. With extraordinary daring Freddie raised himself until the bullets were zipping only a few

inches above his head; then, aiming carefully at the perfect target presented by the flame spitting flame of the gun, he let the gunner have two rounds from his revolver. There was a loud cry and the firing ceased.

"Well done! Well done I" murmured Gregory. "But for God's sake don't try any more of those tricks or you'll get yourself shot to pieces."

"What's it matter?" Freddie was crouching on the floor again and turned his head to grin. "We'll be dead anyway within the next half hour."

Gregory shrugged. "I'm afraid so. Still, we might as well try to hang out as long as we can."

The sound of sharp explosions in the next room told them that von Lutz had come into action and it seemed that the Nazis had turned their attention to the bedroom window. But a moment later bullets descending at a sharp angle began to spatter the floor of the kitchen within a foot of the place where Gregory and Charlton were crouching.

"Hell!" whispered Gregory. "One of them's got up a tree and is firing down on to us. He can see through the rent in the curtain; we must put out that light."

With a swift wriggle he scrambled across the floor and, raising his hand, turned down the oil lamp that was on the kitchen dresser. Instantly the room was in semi darkness, lit only by the soft glow of the fire.

The shooting died down again and after a few minutes it ceased altogether. The silence was uncanny after the almost continuous banging of explosions and thudding of bullets that had created pandemonium for the last ten minutes. The Nazis were evidently planning some new form of attack and Gregory anxiously strained his ears for any sounds which might give the first intimation of it.

Suddenly it came: a rush of footsteps at the front of the cottage and a terrific battering upon the door. Freddie was nearest and, turning, he began to fire with his revolver at the panels of the door, hoping that the bullets would go through the wood and wound some of the men who were trying to smash it in.

"That's no good " yelled Gregory. "Here, give me a hand with this table." Sweeping the things that were on it to the floor they heaved the table over sideways and dragged it up against the door; then hastily stacked up all the furniture they could lay their hands on behind it to form a barricade.

Snatching up his gun Gregory ran back to the window. He meant to lean out, shoot along the side of the house and take the Nazis who were trying to force the door in a flank attack. But the second he raised his head under the tattered curtain the submachine gun was brought into play again; a bullet zipped through his hair and others began to splinter the woodwork of the window frame.

After three minutes of furious thudding the Nazis gave up their efforts on the door and silence fell once more. This time it continued for much longer and Gregory had a feeling that it forebode yet more serious trouble. A quarter of an hour later he began to hope that he had been wrong and that some of the Nazis had gone to fetch reinforcements, in which case the time had come to attempt a sortie.

He estimated that at least five out of the ten or twelve attackers must have been killed or seriously wounded. If one or two more had been seat off to Dornitz to get help that considerably reduced the odds. To break out and rush the remainder, who would certainly have been left to watch the exits of the cottage, was a most desperate venture; hut even if only one of the besieged party got through that would be better than their all remaining there to be massacred, as they undoubtedly would be in due course, unless they could manage to break out.

Leaving Charlton for a moment he slipped into the bedroom to consult the Baron, but before he had a chance to put up his suggestion he was struck by something peculiar about the atmosphere of the room. It was not the close fogginess in which Hans Foldar and his wife usually slept. Since the window of this room. too, had been smashed to atoms by the Nazis' ballets. It was something else. Gregory sniffed quickly twice then he knew. It was the faint smell of wood smoke.

Von Lutz was almost indistinguishable in the darkness but his voice came from near the window.

"How does it go with you?"

"We're still all right. But what are they up to now? Can you smell anything here?"

The Baron drew a long, deep breath through his nostrils and, exhaling it, suddenly exclaimed: "Himmel, ja! I haf not notice it before but it comes from the window. I can smell smoke."

"That's it. I had a hope just now that they'd sent to Dornitz for reinforcements and we might stand a chance of breaking through while their numbers were reduced;. but my first hunch that they were planning something pretty nasty for us was right. They've been collecting wood all this time and now they've fired the place."

As he ceased speaking a faint hissing and crackling caught their ears, proving him to be right. The Nazis had piled up all the loose wood they could find against, the blank wall at the bedroom end of the cottage and the bonfire was just beginning to get well alight.

The smell of smoke grew stronger; soon great puffs of it were drifting in through the broken window and the crackling of the flames increased to a low roar. Gregory put his hand on the far wall of the bedroom and withdrew it quickly; the timbers were already scorching to the touch.

There was nothing they could do about it nothing whatever. They could not get at the blaze to attempt to put it out, while it was still small, and once the flames ad eaten their way through the wall it would have much too strong a hold for them to get it under. Even the possibility of delaying its action by throwing buckets of water from the kitchen tank against the threatened wall was denied to them since they were compelled to crawl about the floor; not daring to stand upright in case the Nazis started shooting, again through the shattered windows.

Von Lutz began to cough from the acrid smoke which was now filling the room, so Gregory called to him and they both returned to the kitchen. Freddie looked up quickly from where he was kneeling behind the barricade. "They've fired the place, haven't they? There's been a strong smell of smoke for some minutes."

Gregory nodded and the airman went on: "Well, what are we going to do? Break out or stay here to be roasted alive?"

"Break out," said von Lutz; "but not yet not till the flames haf goat hold. They will gif us light to see by so we can shoot more of these swine’s before we ourselves are shot."

"That cuts both ways," Gregory replied promptly. "The brighter the light the easier it will be for them to pick us off from a distance as we come out."

Although his argument for an immediate sortie was sound they still hesitated, knowing that once they were outside with their backs against the flames they would make a perfect target for the sub machine guns of their enemies. It was a foregone conclusion that within two minutes of crossing the threshold they would all be dead.

The voice of the flames had swollen to a sudden roar and, now that it had properly caught, the old wooden cottage was going up like tinder. Von Lutz stepped across the narrow passage and opened the door of the bedroom. A great cloud of smoke billowed out, choking and half blinding him. The far wall was now a solid sheet of flame. Curtains, bedding and draperies had also caught, making glowing red patches in the blackish murk. He hastily thrust the door to again, brushed his hand over his watering eyes and gasped:

"We haf another few moments only at the most. Let us go now to die like brave men."

Gregory picked up his shot gun then he smiled at Charlton. "Sorry I let you in for this; Freddie."

Charlton smiled back. "I might just as well die riddled with bullets on the ground as in a plane; and that would have been my end for certain if this filthy war is going on for long."

Frau Foldar was still seated in the corner where Freddie had put her, well out of danger from shots coming through the windows. During the fight she had remained there, wide eyed, terrified, unspeaking, seeming hardly to understand what was going on. Glancing towards her he said to the others:

"We can't leave her here, although I am afraid having to lug her along with us puts paid to any chance we might have had of getting through by a sudden dash."

"I'll take her," said Gregory and von Lutz simultaneously, but the Baron added:

"This my affair is. She is one of my peoples. Go, please both of you. Good luck! Make no delay it is an order,"

Gregory did not argue. He knew that whoever led the way would make the target for the first burst of the Nazis' fire, whereas whoever took the old peasant woman would be screened behind the leaders of the party; so if it could be considered that there was a chance of any of them getting through at all the odds were about even.

Their eyes were smarting from the smoke that now filled the kitchen. The heat was stifling and the fierce crackling of burning wood much nearer now showed that the flames had advanced from the bedroom and were already devouring the partition wall beside which they stood.

"Let's go," said Gregory, and they moved out into the tiny corridor which gave out on to the back door. As he lifted his hand to pull back the heavy wooden bolt a fresh burst of shooting suddenly broke out behind the house. Pausing with his hand outstretched he exclaimed: "What the devil's that?"

They listened for a moment but no bullets thudded into the woodwork of the cottage so the Nazis were not now firing at it. What then, they all wondered, could this fresh shooting mean?

"It is Hans! " cried von Lutz, his eyes showing joy and excitement. "I know him forty years. When the Nazis first surprise us and he runs away I am as much ashamed as if I haf run away myself. But I was unjust. Now all is clear. Hans has the gout sense. He knows we cannot hold out here. He rushes his fellow woodmen to get and they are now the enemy from the rear attacking."

Gregory hesitated no longer. Pulling back the bolt he wrenched open the door and yelled: "Come on, them Now's the time to give him a hand; we'll save our necks yet."

He dashed from the cottage, the others hard on his heels; Von Lutz and Charlton each grabbing Frau Foldar by an arm to support her as they ran. No hail of shots came at them; the Nazis were now fully engaged with the woodmen who had attacked them in the rear. Spurts of flame stabbed the darkness of the woods from half a dozen different directions and the night echoed to the roar of explosions as automatics and shot guns were pitted against each other.

Tae glare from the burning cottage lit the scene for some distance but threw up great black shadows here and there so that the ground looked broken and uneven. When Gregory had covered twenty yards he could see vague figures moving among the trees. A splash of flame came from the weapon of the nearest; it was one of the Nazis who had suddenly turned and seen the fugitives rushing from the blazing building. His bullet might have ended Gregory's career had he not at that second tripped and gone crashing headlong over the body of another Nazi who had been shot down earlier in the attack.

For a few moments utter confusion reigned. `von Lutz pistolled the man who had fired at Gregory but others had turned their weapons upon the escaping party. As they crouched together beside Gregory, who was struggling to get back his breath, bullets whistled overhead and scores of pellets from the woodmen's shot guns rattled on the dry branches and the leaves of the undergrowth. Someone was wailing piteously further in among the trees; a sharp cry told of another who had been hit. The S.S. officer was shouting to his troopers, now caught between two fires, as Gregory, the Baron and Charlton again came into action. Von Lutz was yelling to Hans so that his men should not shoot at them by mistake in the semi darkness. Then Hans's voice came in the near distance and next moment, crying: "Don't shoot? Don't shoot! " he came blundering through the trees towards them.

"Hans! Hans " The Baron rose to meet him and grasped his arm. "We should have been dead now but for you; and Frau Foldar is here, unhurt, with us."

"Gott Sie dank!" gulped the woodman, stooping to embrace his wife as she struggled up from her knees.

"Quick! urged Gregory in German, "or they'll get us yet. We shan't be safe until we're deep in the forest."

They all began to run again and did not pause until they had covered another three hundred yards. By that time they were well clear of the flickering glare from the cottage which was now a roaring column of smoke and flame.

"How many men did you bring with you, Hans?" asked van Lutz breathlessly.

"Three only. Herr Oberst Baron; the others lived too far away. But I fear we have lost Joachim; I heard him cry out as though he were badly wounded just before I reached you."

The shooting was still going on a couple of hundred yards to their left as the Baron replied with swift instructions: "Then you must call them off now and if Joachim is still alive get him away somehow between you. He and the other two will be safe from arrest later as the Nazis cannot know who they are, but you and your wife must go into hiding for a time; then, with any luck, the Nazis will believe that both of you were killed when the cottage was attacked and that both your bodies were burned inside it."

"Ja- ja, Herr Oberst Baron. We shall find shelter and no one in the district will betray us; but what of you and your friends?"

"We must take care of ourselves. You have done more than enough for us. We are eternally grateful. Go now and get your men away while we create a diversion from this side of the enemy."

"God be with you " muttered the tall woodman, and with his arm about his wife's shoulders he hurried away through the trees.

"Come " said von Lutz, breaking into English. "Of these swine there cannot many be left. Let us attack with stealth a final settling to make."

With Charlton and Gregory beside him he crept about a hundred yards until they could see the flashes of the Nazis' pistols more distinctly; then they crouched down behind the undergrowth. Just as they were picking their men the hoot of an owl came from the near distance and the Baron whispered:

"That is Hans; he calls to the others. It's our turn. Make ready? Together now. Fire! "

At his word all three of them squeezed the triggers of their weapons. There was a scream of pain as one of the enemy was hit; but they had now given away their own position and the remaining Nazis turned their fire upon them.

Suddenly von. Lutz gave a strangled cry and lurched forward. Gregory was kneeling behind a tree and Freddie had flung himself flat to escape the bullets. Both of them grabbed the Baron's shoulders and pulling him from the. bramble patch into which he had fallen head foremost dragged him away from the spot at which the Nazis were still firing.

When they had covered a dozen yards they laid the wounded man down and Gregory made a quick examination of him. The Baron's body had gone limp but owing to the darkness they could not see where he had been hit. Gregory's hand came in contact with blood, warm and sticky, on von Lutz's face. Next moment his fingers found a great rent in the Baron's forehead and he knew that this friend who had stood by them so loyally had been shot through the head and had died instantly.

In the attempt they had been planning to get clear of the Brandenburg district Gregory and Freddie had been counting on von Lutz for advice, clothes and supplies. Now he was dead; and as they lay beside his body they both realized that he could no longer lift a finger to help them. Even poor Magda, who hated the English yet might for her father's sake have rendered them assistance, was now only charred flesh and bone, beyond any further test of divided loyalties. For the first time in many days the fugitives were again alone and on the run in the country of their enemies.

Chapter VI

The Horrible Dilemma

THE Nazis continued to fire into the patch of shrub where van Lutz had been killed but it was difficult to estimate how many of them were still in action. Gregory did not think that there could now be more than two or three who had remained unscathed in the attack on the cottage and in the fight against Hans Foldar's woodmen afterwards; but several of the wounded were apparently still capable of using their pistols so even such a depleted force was too large for Charlton and himself to tackle now that the woodmen had withdrawn.

Freddie had raised his revolver again and was drawing a bead on a dark hump from which a flash had just appeared when Gregory checked him.

"Don't fire any more for the present or you'll disclose our new position. Give me a hand here instead and help me to undress the Baron."

"Undress him?" breathed Freddie in a horrified whisper.

"Yes," Gregory whispered back. "Beastly thing to have to do but I want his uniform and I know he wouldn't grudge it to me.

"All right. But what's the idea?"

"I mean to swap clothes with him. The ones I'm wearing were made in Germany so when he's found in them they won't give anything away; while in his colonel's uniform I'll be practically immune from suspicion if only we can get out of this blasted wood and reach a town."

"That's a brain wave; but better still, dress him up in my Air Force kit and let me have your civilian clothes."

"No. They have no idea that the two men who were shot down on the night of the 8th are still in the district. If we did as you suggest, directly they found his body the R.A.F. outfit would give away the fact that we took shelter with him that we've been here all the time and that one of us is trying to make a getaway dressed in his uniform. They'd catch us then before we could cover ten miles."

"They'll catch us anyway if I can't find a change of clothes."

"Not necessarily. One airman looks very like another and at the moment they're not looking for airmen at all. I shall be wearing the Baron's greatcoat so you can have the one I've got on. You'll look like a flyer who's made a false landing and been lent an Army greatcoat on account of the cold."

When they had stripped von Lutz of his outer garments with as little noise as possible Gregory began to change. As they were both slim men of about the same height the Colonel's uniform fitted him fairly decently. He was also able to acquire the dead man's automatic which still had a few rounds in it and one spare clip of unused ammunition. After they had finished the grim business of getting Gregory's garments on to the body Charlton put on the German officer's overcoat in which Gregory had escaped from Berlin.

' I should have thought that by wearing this thing I'm falling between two stools," the airman said in a low voice. "It won't hide the fact that I'm an R.A.F. officer if an inquisitive policeman questions me and asks to see what's underneath it; yet it's enough to damn me utterly if we're caught."

"On the contrary. It will prevent ninety nine out of every hundred Germans giving you a second glance and in the event of our being cornered, whereas I shall be shot as a spy whatever I am wearing, by retaining your R.A.F. flying kit under that coat the worst they'll be able to do to you is to send you to a prisoners of war camp."

"Perhaps you're right."

"Of course I'm right," Gregory muttered impatiently. "Don't waste any more time in arguing; we haven't got a moment to lose."

"You've thought out a plan, then?"

"I wouldn't say that; it's lust a hunch that we might be able to pull a fast one on these swine while they're collecting their wounded. Tread as softly as you can now and follow me."

For some moments now the Nazis had given up sending pot-shots into the wood. Cautiously at first, and then more loudly, they had been calling to one another until, reassured by their continued immunity from attack, they evidently believed that their surviving enemies had given up the fight and made off. The unwounded were now emerging from their hiding places to give first aid to the wounded and to search for their dead. The woods were silent once more, except for the sound of their voices which came quite clearly and gave a good indication of their positions.

Using extreme caution Gregory and Charlton moved in a wide semi circle round the area occupied by the Nazis, until they struck the lane on the right hand side of the cottage and about half a mile from it. The little building was now almost burnt out and the flames had died down, but a red glow from the ashes still lit its surroundings for some distance. At the edge of the wood Gregory paused and pointed. The motor truck which had brought the S.S. men from Dornitz was still there, parked on the roadside about half way between the place where they stood and the remains of the cottage.

The wood was higher than the road by about four feet; so having warily tiptoed along, weaving their way in and out among the trees on the top of the bank until they were opposite the truck, they were able to look down into it.

As they paused there, holding their breath, two S.S. men, one of whom held a torch, were just lifting a dead or unconscious companion into the back of the open vehicle, and a minute later the torch moved disclosing the bodies of two other Nazis who had been laid out on its floor boards. After the third body had been placed beside the others the man with the torch muttered something and set off at a quick walk down the road towards the cottage, leaving his helper who presumably was the driver just below the place where Gregory and Charlton were crouching. Lighting a cigarette he remained there, his back towards there, facing his van.

Gregory waited until the first man had climbed the bank and disappeared into the trees further along the road then, clubbing his shot gun, he rose slowly to his feet. Balancing himself carefully he raised the gun high in the air, leant forward and let the driver have it. The heavy wooden stock hit the Nazi full on the top of the head. He went down like a pole axed ox, without even a murmur.

"Quick " Gregory whispered, springing down the bank. "You get the engine going while I heave this tell tale cargo into the ditch."

As Freddie scrambled up into the driver's seat Gregory seized the nearest body by the boots and, with one violent jerk, dragged it out of the back of the truck. The engine sputtered for a minute, on the bad petrol. then it burst into a steady roar.

Gregory grabbed a handhold, hauled himself up into the body of the van and veiled

"Go on, man! What the hell are you waiting for?" "You," Freddie yelled back.

"I'm all right. Drive on, for God's sake, or they'll shoot us as we pass the cottage "

The truck moved off with a jerk which nearly threw Gregory ff his feet. Steadying himself with an effort he got a grip on he second Nazi and, exerting all his strength, bundled him overboard; then lurching towards the third in the wildly rocking van he pushed him out of the back, gasped with relief arid flung himself flat.

Once Freddie had shifted gear their get away was so swift hat the remaining Nazis had not enough time to guess what was Happening. No shots came at the truck as it roared past the lowing embers of the cottage and in another moment it was Hurtling away at the top of its speed down the road into the darkness.

Three quarters of a mile further on the lane ended, coming out at right angles into a second class road. As the headlights glimmered on a wire fence dead ahead Charlton jammed on his brakes and brought the truck to a skidding halt.

"Crossroads; which way do you want me to take?" he sang out.

"Half a minute." jumping out of the back Gregory scrambled up the bank on the corner to a signpost which he had glimpsed outlined against a break in the clouds where the moonlight was now filtering through and tried to decipher what was written on it. The bank brought his head within a few inches of the lettering and by holding up matches one after he other their light was just sufficient for him to read

DORNITZ 2 KILOMETRES" on one arm and "GLOINE 3.5 KILOMET'RES' on the other.

"Turn left," he shouted as he ran back and jumped up reside Charlton on the driver's seat. "This road will take us to a place called Gloine. Where the devil that is God knows, but anyhow it's in the opposite direction to Dornitz and we daren't run through there in case the police recognize this van and want to know how we got hold of it.'

The road was fairly flat and Freddie pushed the lorry along at the top of its speed through the sandy Brandenburg countryside which was broken only here and there by woods and was now, outside the glow of the headlights, hidden by the darkness.

Five or six minutes later they rumbled into a straggling township. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning so no one was about, with the exception of a solitary policeman who was standing in the little square beside a memorial to the fallen of the last Great War.

"Drive straight on." muttered Gregory as the lamps of the truck lit a road sign reading: "GORZKE 10 KILOMETRES" and "WIESENBURG 18 KILOMETRES".

He had never heard of these places either; but the wintry night sky was fairly clear and on their way to Gloine he had had an opportunity to get his bearing from the stars and from what he could recall of the map which von Lutz had drawn for them that evening. He now knew the direction in which they were heading and in any case it would have been madness to pull up and ask a policeman, since as soon as the surviving Nazis could reach a telephone they would report the theft of their truck and send out a general call to have it held up wherever sighted.

"Where are we going?" asked Freddie as they left the last houses of Gloine behind and headed for the open country once more.

"This road heads almost due east, which is a bit of luck for us," Gregory replied. "Sooner or later it must get us to Berlin."

” Berlin?" echoed Freddie. "Are you crazy? That's the last place we want to go to 1 I thought you meant to head for the Dutch frontier."

"So you're still thinking of that girl of yours, Angela Fordyce, eh? Well, maybe we'll get to Holland and you'll be able to see her yet, but first I want to find out what's happened to Erika."

"But damn it, man! That means running both our heads into the noose. In a place like Berlin we're absolutely certain to be captured. Besides, we must make the utmost of our start. Our only chance is to make a dash for the Dutch frontier right away."

"Not necessarily, Freddie. And if I were doing any dashing. for frontiers I should head for Denmark, which is nearer than Holland by hundreds of miles."

"Well, I'm jolly sorry for you about Erika, and all that, but I don't think you're quite playing the game in boggling our only chance of escape."

"All right, my dear fellow," Gregory shrugged, have it your own way; just pull up and drop me here. I'll make you a present of my half of the van and you can drive straight to The Hague or wherever it is your delightful young woman hangs out."

"But my German's not half good enough yet," exclaimed the exasperated Freddie. "I'd never be able to get all that way on my own."

"Of course you wouldn't, dear boy. I don't suppose this thing’s got enough petrol in it to do a hundred kilometres, and here isn't a service station in Germany out of which you could wangle another gallon without me to help you. Even if you succeeded in reaching the frontier you wouldn't stand a dog's chance of getting across it. As it is, we shall have to ditch the truck in half an hour or less because once those swine we left in he wood get to a telephone every policeman in Brandenburg will be on the look out for it. That's why putting both our girl friends entirely out of the question we should be absolutely mad to try to make a dash for any frontier at the moment; and why, even if I were not anxious to find out what has happened to Erika, I should be heading for Berlin."

"I suppose you're right about our having to ditch the van pretty soon," Charlton admitted reluctantly, "but the thought of trying to keep out of trouble in a great city sends cold shivers town my spine."

"Don't let it. There's an old Chinese saying which I've often 'found to be a very true one. `When thou wouldst be secret do by business in a crowd'. If only we can get to Berlin we'll be all right, but the problem is how to get there."

Gorzke proved to be a larger town than Gloine but owing to he late hour it was almost as deserted. They had to pull up for a moment in its central square to find direction signs but on 'reading them Gregory saw "WIESENBURG 8 KILO and under it "BELZIG 19 KILOMETRES". The name Belzig rang a bell in his mind which made him believe that it was on a main line railway, so he decided to push on awards it.

The road now curved to the south east but it was a good main way, wider and with a firmer surface than that upon which hey had been before, and they made better going. In this quiet country district they had not so far met a single vehicle and as they bucketed along Gregory was busy calculating distances. He reckoned that by the time they reached Wiesenburg they would have covered about fifteen miles and, as the top speed of the lorry with the handicap of Ersatz petrol was in the neighbourhood of 30 m.p.h., half an hour would have elapsed between their arrival at that town and their seizure of the lorry from the Nazis.

He had been fairly confident about getting through. Gloine and Gorzke without trouble but every moment now increased the likelihood of their being held up. It was not more than twenty minutes' walk from Hails Foldar's cottage to the home of their late friend, Colonel Baron von Lutz, and it was certain that the manor house would be on the telephone. If the Nazis had set off for the house at once the police all over the district would now have been warned and be drawing cordons across the roads to catch the stolen truck before it could get further afield. On the other hand, if the Nazis had wasted time in argument or, feeling confident that the vast German police network would easily pick up the fugitives on the following morning, considered it more important to patch up their wounded than to make a dash for the nearest telephone, there was a decent chance that no emergency police call had yet been sent out.

Gregory said nothing to Charlton but as they approached the first houses of Wiesenburg he braced himself for trouble. Peering out into the darkness ahead and holding the shot gun that he still had with him ready across his knees he prepared to fight rather than to surrender.

Further into the town a belated roisterers lurched off the pavement and almost under their wheels. For a second Gregory did not realize that the man was a drunk and thought him the leader of an ambush who had jumped out to call on them to halt; but Freddie swerved the van, missing the fellow by inches. and it clattered on.

In the centre of the town a line of light lorries was pulled up at the side of the road and in the half light they could see that a number of soldiers were gathered about them. Once more Gregory tensed his muscles. Perhaps these men had just been dispatched from a local barracks to bar the road; but when he saw that the lorries were all parked in line he realized that his fears were groundless. The lorries would have been drawn across the road if the men were there to stop them. It was only a company of troops engaged on some ordinary night operation.

As they passed the unit some of the men called a greeting and Gregory sang out cheerfully to them in German in reply, thanking his gods that in the half darkness they could not see that he was wearing the uniform of a colonel. Another three minutes and they were out of Wiesenburg on the Belzig road.

The tension was over for the moment and Gregory was able to sit back while the truck rattled on for a few more miles; then he began to peer ahead at both sides of the road as far as he could see in the uncertain light. After another kilometre they came to a wood and Gregory told Charlton to slow down, meanwhile keeping an anxious eye open for any sign of a track that might lead off the road in among the trees. A white gateway loomed up. Leaving his shot gun on the seat, as he meant from this point to rely on yon Lutz's automatic, he jumped down, opened the gate and beckoned to Freddie to drive through.

In the darkness among the trees it was not easy to find the most suitable place to abandon the van; but a few hundred yards up the track they reached a break in the wood which on investigation proved to be a sandy patch sloping downwards at a fairly steep angle.

"This'll do." said Gregory; "we'll ditch the van here. Be careful how you go, though."

Freddie drove over the grassy verge on to the sand and the van bumped its way down until more trees became visible in its headlights. Pulling up he switched off the lights, got out and scrambling up the slope rejoined Gregory.

"It'll be visible from here in daylight, I'm afraid," Gregory said, "but we can't help that; and, with luck, this track may not be much used. There's a sporting chance that no one'll find it for a day or two and in any case it's well out of the way till to morrow morning, by which time we shall be miles from here."

"What's the next move?" Freddie asked.

"We've got to foot it into Belzig and I mean to try to get a train to Berlin from there."

Side by side they set off back along the track and took the Belzig road. Half an hour later they reached the outskirts of the town and taking Freddie's arm Gregory whispered to him to go cautiously. Over an hour had elapsed since they had stolen the truck and he felt certain that by now the police in every town for fifty miles around had been notified and would have special patrols out. Two minutes later a match flared a hundred yards ahead and by its glow the vague outline of two men's faces could be seen as they lit cigarettes from it.

Gregory would have bet his last shilling that they were only two of an armed squad which had been posted there to hold up the lorry should it make an appearance. Although they might not regard two pedestrians with suspicion he was extremely anxious to avoid being questioned, so twenty yards further on he silently turned Charlton off the road down a path at right

angles to it which ran along a garden fence. Where the fence ended they turned again and with subdued curses stumbled across some back lots till they reached a group of buildings and a lane, by taking which they arrived back in the main street at a point well beyond the police picket.

It seemed most unlikely that there would be any trains in the middle of the night but Gregory wanted to find out when the first one for Berlin left in the morning, so their next problem was to find the station. The houses were dark and the streets deserted but presently they came upon a man who was lighting his way with a torch, who Gregory felt certain, from his kit, was an A.R.P. warden doing his rounds. Motioning to Charlton to keep in the background Gregory stepped forward and asked the man the way to the station; upon which he civilly directed them and, ten minutes later, they came to the small, open space on the south eastern edge of the town where the station lay.

A Gregory was now in the uniform of a German colonel he would never have dared to attempt travelling on a train within a hundred miles of the war zone, or anywhere near Germany's frontiers, without the military voucher which anyone in uniform would normally have presented; but as they were right in the centre of Germany and far from any military zone he felt that he might risk trying to buy tickets, like an ordinary civilian, without arousing awkward questions.

Just before they reached the door of the railway station he touched Charlton on the arm and said: "Now we're for it But keep a stiff upper lip and forget all the German that you've recently learned. Whatever happens, you're to stay absolutely dumb and not utter a word, even if they speak to you in English, unless I tell you to."

"Right," said Freddie, and pushing open the door they went into the small, dimly lit station hall.

The booking office was closed and only two people were in sight; an elderly porter and an officer of the S.S. in a smart black uniform. What this Nazi official was doing there at such an hour Gregory had no idea but he did not by the flicker of an eyelid show his alarm at this inconvenient meeting. Striding up to the porter he said with abrupt authority befitting his rank:

"What time does the next train go to Berlin?"

"Five twenty," mumbled the porter.

"Is there a waiting room here where we can sit in comfort?"

The porter jerked his head in the direction of a door leading out of the small hall. "You can wait in there, Herr Oberst, but there's no fire." And having given them this depressing information he slouched out on to the platform.

The officer of the S.S. had been eyeing them curiously. Freddie had on the grey green officer's greatcoat in which Gregory had left Berlin but he did not look like a German officer and he was still wearing his flying helmet. Lifting his hand in a casual half salute the Nazi said to Gregory:

"You are up early, Herr Oberst."

Gregory frowned. "my car broke down just outside the town it's this filthy Ersatz petrol otherwise I should have gone straight through to Berlin by road. As it is, my business is urgent so I left the chauffeur with the car and walked in to catch the first train."

"You've over two hours to wait yet," said the Nazi, "and you'll find it icy cold in that waiting room. I think you'd better come along with me to Party Headquarters."

Gregory remained quite still for a moment, but his brain was revving over like the engine of a dynamo. Was this a casual meeting and the Nazi only acting with friendly intentions? or had this man, after the news of the fray in the woods had been telephoned through, left his bed for the purpose of picketing the station and bringing in any suspicious characters who might have slipped past the police on the main road?

There was nothing suspicious about Gregory himself, since his uniform, although somewhat mud stained, was perfect and his German irreproachable; but Freddie Charlton in his queer get up was quite another matter. Flying officers do not wear army officer's greatcoats, and if the coat were once undone it would reveal the service kit of a British Flight Lieutenant. The Nazi was alone, so although he was armed there was a fair chance that the two of them would be able to overcome him before he could secure help. On the other hand, if they attacked him and had a fight in the station hall it was certain that the porter would hear and report it which would put an end to any hope of their being allowed on the Berlin train when it came in. Yet for what other reason could the Nazi be there at three o'clock in the morning, if riot to bring in suspects? If that was so, and they once allowed him to take them to the Party Headquarters, Gregory knew that it would mean a firing squad for him the following morning.

His hand moved towards his gun.

Chapter VII

Invitation to the Lion’s Den

GREGORY had raised his hand only a couple of inches when, evidently entirely unsuspicious of his intention, the S.S. officer produced his cigarette case with a flourish and flicked it open.

"A cigarette, Herr Oberst?" he said, offering the case with a friendly smile.

It was touch and go. In another second Gregory would have whipped out his automatic to hold the Nazi up. As it was, with, a polite "Danke, Herr Ober Lieutenant," he accepted the cigarette, and Charlton, being offered the case, took one too, refraining from speaking but smiling his thanks.

As they lit up the Nazi went on: "It's just as you like. You can remain in the waiting room if you prefer, but it's devilishly cold in there and you know how late the trains are running these days. I doubt if yours will be in before half past six. I've just finished the job that brought me out to night but I'm still on duty. At Party Headquarters I could fix you up with a drink and make you quite comfortable in the Mess."

Once more Gregory hesitated. Was this a trap because they were two to one and the Nazi wanted to get them inside quietly without having to risk his life tackling two desperate fugitive’s Or was his offer of hospitality genuine? If the Nazi really had no inkling that they were on the run a

refusal of his offer was the very thing best calculated to arouse his suspicions. No one but a fool, or a man who had something to hide, would willingly kick his heels in an icy station waiting room for three hours in preference to sitting in a warns Mess. It was a horrible dilemma but Gregory was a shrewd judge of character and the bluff, fair faced Ober Lieutenant was not the type that makes a good actor; so he was now inclined to think

that of the two risks it would be better to enter the lions' den.

But the devil of it was that once they reached the Nazi Mess

Charlton would have to remove his greatcoat and reveal his; R.A.F. service kit. That was the awful snag; but Gregory decided that there was only one thing for it: to risk his friend's freedom on a line that he had already thought out for use in an emergency, and to gamble once again upon the audacity which, had served him so well in the past.

"You are most kind," he said, "and nothing would suit me setter than to doze in one of your arm chairs for an hour or two. but I must first ask you if you are willing to take into your custody a British officer."

Freddie had picked up enough German from von Lutz luring the past two and a half weeks to be able to follow the gist if the conversation and when he heard Gregory's request he was utterly staggered. On the face of it Gregory was trying to sell him out and preserve his own liberty at the price of handing his friend over to the Nazis. Such an act of treachery seemed too terrible to contemplate but he felt sure that he had not misunderstood what Gregory had said. It was only with a great effort that he had managed to control his feelings and the muscles of his face while he waited with acute anxiety to see what would happen next.

"A British officer!" exclaimed the Nazi, suddenly switching his surprised glance to Charlton. "Is that him there?"

"Yes." Gregory drew calmly on his cigarette. "The cold is so bitter that we had to provide him with a greatcoat, but he's still wearing his service uniform underneath it. D'you think you can find him a cell?"

"Why, certainly, if you wish. But why isn't he in a prisoners of war camp?"

"Because his plane was only shot down early to night, over Essen."

"I see. But Essen 's a long way away nearly five hours from here by road. Why wasn't he interned locally?"

"He was shot down at about nine o'clock," Gregory shrugged, "and as he was flying a new type of plane the anti aircraft people handed him over at once to Intelligence. He's rather an unusual type for a flying officer and I think, if he's handled properly, we may get something out of him. Anyhow, we immediately telephoned Berlin about this new type of machine he was in and it aroused such interest at the Air Ministry that Marshal Goering said he would like to see him personally. That meant at once, of course, and it was not a job that could be passed on to a junior officer so I set off with him by car straight away."

Gregory felt that he had explained away rather neatly the fact of such a high officer as a full colonel being in charge of a single prisoner, and he was gratified to see the immediately favourable reaction which the name of Field Marshal Goering provoked in the Nazi, who said promptly:

"In that case, Herr Oberst, our Party Headquarters are entirely at your disposal. Let us go there at once." Then clicking his heels and bowing sharply from the waist he formally introduced himself: "Wentsich."

Gregory followed suit by barking: "Claus," and added: "My prisoner's name is Rogers Flight Lieutenant Rogers."

As they left the station Gregory made Freddie walk in front of him while he talked to the Nazi about the progress of the war. Ten minutes later they entered the main square of the town and after going up a few stone steps passed through a black out light lock into the big hallway of a fine old building which had been taken over as the local Nazi headquarters, on Hitler': coming to power.

Gregory looked warily about him, his hand never very far from the butt of his automatic. The Ober Lieutenant of Black Guards had not betrayed the least sign that he suspected them but Gregory still felt that they might be walking straight into a trap. A dozen Storm Troopers might come running at the Ober Lieutenant's first call but the cynical Englishman meant to see to it that, if that happened, the Ober Lieutenant himself never lived to profit by the results of his strategy.

Except for a couple of clerks working in a downstairs room, the door of which stood open, no one was about, and the Nazi led the way upstairs without giving the signal that Gregory so much dreaded. But, even now, he feared that they were only being led further into the snare so that there should be no possible chance of their shooting their way out and escaping from the building.

On the first floor the Nazi flung open one half of a tall, carved wood door which gave on to a handsome salon overlooking the square. The room was comfortably furnished. A big china stove was hissing with heat in one corner and on a side board stood a fine array of drinks. To Gregory's intense relief the room was unoccupied. It all seemed too good to be true. There must be a snag somewhere.

"Come along in," said the Nazi cheerfully. "What are you going to have?"

Gregory glanced at the bottles and away again. "Hadn't we better see my prisoner locked up first?"

"Need we bother?" the Ober Lieutenant shrugged. "He'll stand no more chance of getting away from you here than he would if he were downstairs in a cell and very much less than when he was alone with you walking to the station from the place where you left your car. Anyhow, it's so darned cold expect the poor chap could do with a drink, too."

At last Gregory's fears were set at rest. Things had panned out as he had desperately prayed that they might. He had suggested that Charlton should be locked up only in order that the S.S. man should more readily believe that he was an important prisoner.

"Certainly;" he agreed at once. "So Long as my prisoner has no chance of getting away I'm perfectly satisfied, and I'm sure he'd like a drink. But he doesn't speak German. Do you speak any English?"

"No: a few words only but enough to say 'How D’you do', 'Hard luck', `You will drink, yes?' " Wentsich smiled at Charlton.

At an almost imperceptible nod from Gregory, Freddie said: "Thanks. It's very kind of you; I'd love one."

He had listened with anxious ears to every word that had been said and was now not only reassured about his own position but felt extremely guilty at his unworthy suspicion that Gregory had ever intended to leave him in the lurch. He could only admire the clever ruse by which his fellow fugitive had accounted for his Air Force uniform and the audacity of this brilliant stroke which had led to their both being received as guests in the comfortable Nazi Party Headquarters the last place in which their enemies would ever look for them.

When Wentsich had poured the drinks all three of them removed their greatcoats and sat down in deep arm chairs near the roaring stove. At first the talk turned on the mythical episode of Freddie's having been shot down over Essen the previous evening. Fortunately, as Wentsich spoke very little English, Freddie was not called on to give any details of his forced landing direct, and Gregory rendered what purported to be a translation of the airman's sensations by drawing freely on his own experiences when they had actually been shot down nearly three weeks before. Several British airmen having fallen victims to the Nazis in the interval, and the localities being so widely separated, the Ober Lieutenant did not suspect any connection between the two episodes.

Gregory then remarked that Wentsich must find life pretty boring stationed so far from the war fronts or any of the great cities; upon which the S.S. man laughed and said:

"In the ordinary way it's pretty quiet here but after the recent Putsch we had plenty to occupy us and, as a matter of fact, I had it over the 'phone half an hour before I met you that only to night half a dozen of our fellows were killed rounding up a traitor Baron about thirty miles from here."

"The devil " exclaimed Gregory, swiftly concealing his un easiness. "I hope they got him."

Wentsich shrugged. "We're not certain yet. The cottage in which he was hiding was burnt to the ground so if he was lying wounded there he was probably roasted to cinders, but he had two or three of his peasants with him and others came on the scene later to try to relieve the cottage when it was attacked. Our people shot several of them but the rest got away by a damned clever trick. In the darkness they managed to get hold of the truck in which our men had come out from Dornitz and they drove off in it. Whether the Baron who is a colonel, by the way got away with them we don't know. If he has, I expect we'll run him to earth before he's much older but I doubt if we'll be able to bring any of the peasants to book. They will probably have ditched the van somewhere and made their way back to their own cottages. As the schemozzle took place in darkness our people couldn't identify any of the men who attacked them, so I don't see how we're going to prove which of the `locals` was in the show and which wasn't; and it's quite certain that all their wives will swear that they were safely in bed at home."

These were really cheering tidings for the fugitives. No; only did it look as though the woodmen who had assisted them so loyally would come out of the affair all right but apparently the Nazis had no idea that the two airmen who had been shot down in the neighbourhood over a fortnight before had had any hand in the matter. Presumably they had both been written off as having managed to escape safely out of the district and since no description could be circulated of either of them, no body was bothering to try to trace them up any more.

"Even if life in Belzig is a bit boring at times, though,' Wentsich went on, "I'd a darned sight rather be stationed here than in Czechoslovakia."

"Yes. We've been having quite a spot of bother there recently, haven't we?" Gregory murmured. "Apparently, last week they had to shoot twelve students as an example."

"Twelve " the Nazi laughed. "That was only the start of t. We had to shoot 1,700 of these blasted Czechs to prevent our garrisons from being massacred. Prague was in a state of open revolution last week end and orders came from the Führer himself that, whatever the effect on neutral opinion, the revolt had to be put down. From what I've heard, it's been absolute hell there."

"Have they succeeded in quelling the rebellion now?"

"Oh, yes. The Gestapo doused the flames all right but there their still plenty of red hot embers kicking around. The Czechs loathe us Germans to the very guts and neither the troops nor police dare move about the city in squads of less than six after dark, for fear of being sand bagged or stabbed in the back. Of course, it's those filthy Jews who are at the root of the trouble; ' Prague simply swarms with them."

Gregory felt that from what he knew of the Czechs they were quite capable of making plenty of trouble for the Germans without any assistance from the .Jews, but he was sorry to hear that hey had risen in force when the time was not yet ripe and had suffered so severely in consequence. It would have been so much better had they waited until later in the war and made their effort to regain their freedom after Germany had been weakened by the blockade or had suffered some serious reverse. As it was, by the abortive rising they had done little material good either for themselves or for the Allies and it must almost certainly have robbed them of many of their best leaders, which was a tragic Business.

Wentsich went on to describe how thousands of Black Guards had been rushed on motor cycles to the scene of the trouble for the purpose of suppressing the riots and guarding the public buildings. President Hacha had been made a prisoner and was confined to a room in the old castle. The universities, which were such hotbeds of anti German feeling, had been closed for three years, and in addition to the shooting of 1,700 Czech and Jewish leaders thousands more had been deported or forced labour in Germany.

So accustomed has the mind become to accounts of mass persecution and even slaughter that it is apt no longer to grip and such statements as the Ober Lieutenant was making, but the full horror of the facts that lie behind newspaper headlines Gregory consciously tried to visualize just a fraction of the abysmal woe which must have stricken the Czech people during the last week.

For every one of those 1,700 deaths loves, friendships and life long ambitions must have been cut off. All those thousands of men dragged away into exile left behind them distraught families, many of which had now been robbed of all protection or support. Countless parents were mourning the loss of their sons; countless wives and sweethearts weeping for the men who had been torn from them by the brutal agents of the Gestapo, countless children were left fatherless; countless girls and young married women, who had no means of earning their own living, were left at the mercy of any man who would offer them enough money to buy the food they must have to keep the life in their bodies.

In his mind's eve he saw the big blond Storm Troopers breaking into the houses, beating the Jews with their rubber truncheons, frog marching the Czechs through the streets into captivity, pulling the prettier girls from their hiding places in attics and cellars to provide brutal fun in the nearest bedroom while their parents were held prisoner.

It seemed impossible to believe that the big, blond, cheerful Wentsich, who was entertaining them so hospitably, was capable of committing such atrocities; yet Gregory knew that, had the Ober Lieutenant happened to be drafted to Prague in this emergency, he would have acted in exactly the same way as his colleagues.

Perhaps he and his like were not altogether responsible for their actions, owing to the madness which had swept Germany and bound a great proportion of her younger, more virile men to obey any order which came down to them from the criminal lunatic whom they regarded as God and called the Führer.

But one thing was certain: even if such men were only partially responsible in the degree of leniency or brutality with which they executed their orders, those orders had been given; and the Monster of Berchtesgaden could not escape the utter condemnation of the whole civilized world for all this incredible suffering and misery which his insane ambition was causing.

"Eh? What was that you were saying about the Finns?" Gregory suddenly roused himself. "So the trouble has flared up again?"

"Yes; only to day," the Ober Lieutenant nodded. "The Russians accused the Finns of having fired on their troops with artillery, killing an officer and three privates. Molotov has lodged a protest which almost amounts to an ultimatum. He insists that the Finns are threatening Leningrad."

"What nonsense” Gregory laughed. "The Finnish nation consists of only about four million people, whereas the Soviet's population is somewhere near one hundred and ninety millions. It's absolutely absurd to suggest that a little people like the Finns could possibly threaten the Soviet with its colossal armies and air fleets."

"Anyhow, the Russians are insisting that the Finns should withdraw their troops sixteen miles from their frontier."

"But that's impossible l It would mean their surrendering the Mannerheim Line, and how on earth could they be expected to do that? If they once gave up all the forts and gun emplacements south of Lake Ladoga into which they've put every penny they could raise for years they would leave their principal cities in the south of Finland absolutely unprotected. The Russians have such enormous superiority of numbers that they could just walk in and take them any time they chose."

"If you ask me, that's what they mean to do," Wentsich grinned.

They talked on about the war until well after four in the morning, when the door was flung open and a fat, bald headed officer stumped into the room. Wentsich immediately rose and clicked his heels. presenting Gregory as Colonel Claus and the prisoner as Flight Lieutenant Rogers.

The bald man was a major of Storm Troopers and rapped out his name, Putzleiger, in reply. He seemed to be in a particularly ill temper perhaps from having had to get up so early in the morning and, since the S.S. and the Reichswehr were always more or less at loggerheads, his temper was not improved by finding an Army Colonel in his Mess.

But immediately he learned that the Herr Oberst was on his way to Goering his manner changed entirely; and when Gregory skilfully managed to imply that he knew the Field Marshal personally the Major became positively gushing. He asked Wentsich if he had rung through to the station to find out for the Herr Oberst how late the Berlin train was likely to be.

Wentsich replied that he had not, but that he had intended to do so later on, nearer the time when the train was due.

"Get through at once, then," ordered the Major, and picking up the telephone Wentsich asked the exchange downstairs to put him through to the station.

When he had made the inquiry he turned back to them. "It is the train from Düsseldorf that you would catch, which is due in at five twenty, but they report that it is nearly two hours late already so I doubt if it will reach Belzig much before seven thirty."

Gregory knew how the railway services had gone to pieces in war time Germany so there was nothing unusual about a train running several hours behind schedule when nearing the end of its journey. He just nodded and said:

"Well, it can't be helped. We'll wait here if we may; but the delay is annoying as I am naturally anxious to be able to report with my prisoner to the Field Marshal as soon as possible."

"Yes," agreed the Major. Then suddenly snapping his fingers he exclaimed: "But I have it if I had been fully awake I should have thought of it before. The reason I am up so early is that I must see a man in Berlin before he goes on duty this morning. What is to prevent your coming in my car with me.

As Gregory accepted the offer he felt like laughing; he was so tickled with the idea that an officer of Hitler's Storm Troopers should actually be providing him with transport back to the Capital which he was so anxious to reach. He had been by no means certain that he would be able to secure accommodation on the train without facing the searching questions of the local railway transport officer and on their arrival in Berlin he knew that at any moment he might be asked to produce, identification papers which he had not got. But here was this heaven sent offer to travel in comfort, and free of charge, with a man whose uniform alone would render Freddie and himself; immune from all questioning so long as they were with him.

An orderly appeared with the Major's breakfast and Freddie noticed with interest that in spite of the rationing it consisted of a good sized gammon rasher, coffee, rolls, butter and apple confiture.