The Legion of the Lost, стр. 27

‘Platform 3, Herr Hauptmann.’ The guard presented arms. ‘Is a carriage reserved?’

‘If not, it should have been,’ growled Palfrey, ‘but these days the trains—’ he glared at the man as if traffic delays were his personal responsibility. ‘Try to find me an empty carriage. Have the door locked; these prisoners are important. Have you men to spare to guard the carriage?’

‘They can be found, Herr Hauptmann.’ The man called out hastily and a little party of middle-aged soldiers gathered about Palfrey and the ‘prisoner.’ The crowds on the platform swayed to one side as the party bored its way through, Erikson and Ohlson keeping pace with the soldiers without apparent effort. Near the front of the train, the carriages of which were thick with dust and dirt, they stopped. Four people, three men and a woman, were bundled out of an otherwise empty carriage.

‘That is good,’ said Palfrey graciously, making the man he had first approached beam. ‘You will wait here,’ he said to Conroy and Brian, ‘and—but food! Is there a chance of obtaining anything?’ He looked at the guard, scowling again.

‘A very small chance, Herr Hauptmann,’ the man said, and shifted awkwardly from one foot to the other. ‘There is one small place which I could reach before the train leaves. I can obtain something there, but it will cost—’ he licked his lips. ‘Perhaps two hundred kroner—or one hundred reichsmarks.’

‘Do your best,’ said Palfrey, taking three hundred kroner pieces from his pocket; at sight of the gold the guard gaped. ‘Two for the food, one for you if you succeed. Hurry!’

The man saluted, turned and raced away.

The minutes ticked by. Palfrey, looking across the corridor, saw a fat Colonel looking towards them from the edge of the far platform. His red face was set in an expression which might have been either thoughtful or suspicious. Two other officers approached. Brian spoke shortly and they walked hastily away. Looking even more thoughtful, the fat Colonel walked to and fro, never once approaching Brian.

Then a whistle blew.

Brian opened the door, guards shouted, a few people ran along the platform. There was a scurry of footsteps, the little guard drew up, gasping for breath. He had a box in his arms, about the size of a small attaché case. He pushed it along the floor of the compartment.

‘That is the best I could obtain, Herr Hauptmann!’ He could hardly get the words out. ‘I hope it pleases, I hope it pleases! I am Otto Strenel, please, Corporal Otto Strenel. I hope it pleases!’

‘I shall not forget you,’ Palfrey said.

Brian and Conroy stepped into the compartment, another whistle blew. The fat Colonel drew nearer and the train began to move.

Then the Colonel leapt forward, scattering the guards with a buffet right and left and leaping on to the step. Neither Brian nor Conroy was near enough to stop him.

He squeezed himself into the corridor as the train gathered speed. Brian pushed the sliding door of the compartment to, but the man put his foot in it, opening it without trouble and forcing himself into the compartment.

Ohlson gasped; Erikson kept staring out of the far window.

‘The Hauptmann Smulke!’ roared the florid Colonel, grasping Palfrey’s shoulders tightly. ‘Herr Hauptmann, until the very last moment I did not know whether it was you, but now I am quite sure! What good chance! And you will find room for a little one like me, I am sure of that, quite sure!’ His breath smelt of Schnapps.

Palfrey freed himself and said coldly: ‘I do not remember meeting you and I am not the Hauptmann Smulke.’

‘But—but—you are his living image!’ gasped the Colonel. ‘Come, there is no need to pretend with me! You recall me—Brunning—we last met at Stuttgart, when—no? I am wrong? But it is incredible, quite incredible! I could swear—but perhaps you will forgive me and allow me, even now, to share your carriage?’

He sank down on a seat and mopped his forehead.

There would be little chance of getting rid of him amicably, thought Palfrey, too relieved to be angry.

‘I should not do it,’ he said, wishing desperately that he knew how Brian had frightened the others off. ‘I am taking these two important political prisoners to Berlin.’

‘Berlin!’ roared the Colonel. ‘What a remarkable chance! I too am going to Berlin!’

Palfrey swallowed hard.

‘I suggest,’ said the Colonel comfortably as he put a foot on the box that the little guard had brought, ‘that you station your men in the corridor and make sure that we are not disturbed. Also we shall have more room to stretch.’

Brunning moved his foot from the box and peered down, his fat hands at his stomach.

‘Yes, it is very comfortable,’ he said. ‘But what a country, what a country! I thought they made plenty of food in Denmark, but they live like pigs,’ he added indignantly. For the first time he glanced at the ‘prisoners’ and Palfrey saw the cruelty in his little porcine eyes.

Brian was between Brunning and Palfrey and Palfrey saw his expression; certainly he was not well-disposed towards the German! He raised a clenched fist: Palfrey looked at the people standing helplessly in the corridor, warning in his glance, although all of them had their back to the compartment.

He said: ‘Pull down the blinds, please. Those fools can see everything we do.’

‘Ah-ha!’ exclaimed Brunning, thickly. ‘You want to prevent their seeing something, Herr Hauptmann? I have an idea of what you mean!’ He winked broadly and stirred the box again with his foot, then belched: the odour of Schnapps filled the whole carriage, raw and unpleasant.

The blinds were pulled down, Brunning straightened his tunic and regarded Palfrey expectantly. Palfrey bent down and picked up the box, surprised at its weight. It was not tied and something fell out – a pastry roll. Brunning bent down quickly to retrieve it.

Brian hit him behind the ear with the butt of his revolver in a single swift movement which made a dull ‘crack’ and sent