The Legion of the Lost, стр. 41
‘He must have learned of that just after I’d left,’ said Drusilla.
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey crisply. ‘It’s not good, but it’s what we knew already. No return just yet, I think. He doesn’t say that it’s known that we’ll be posing as Swiss nationals. He would have done so if he thought the fact had leaked through. If von Lichner obtained the information, it isn’t going to affect the issue much.’
Dross said: ‘Then it is not too bad, Dr. Palfrey?’
‘Bad enough,’ said Palfrey, ‘but we’ll risk a look at Berlin, I think.’
‘Berlin?’ murmured Dross gently. ‘Are you sure?’
Palfrey looked at him sharply, guessing that there was something else in the chemist’s mind. Dross, looking very thoughtful, hesitated before he went on: ‘Berlin, Doctor, might yield you much. There is a fine new prison, as the Germans like to call it, in the Potsdamer Platz. One of our villagers has just returned from a visit there. He observed some things of interest to you outside the new prison. For instance, several of our best-known citizens—and few are not known in Denmark by the people—have been taken to the prison. Our friend saw them. And, in consultation with others whom he met, he discovered that notable personalities from other countries have been taken there. A great influx of prisoners has been observed, amongst them have been M’sieu Lapyrie, of Paris, Mynheer van Doysen, of Holland, and others equally notable. You were asking where the missing men have gone, Doctor. I do not say that this is the solution of your problem but it looks to be highly significant.’
Dross left them, but words did not come easily. To learn that their ultimate objective might lie in the heart of Berlin was disturbing, for the odds against any useful work there were heavy. They discussed it desultorily, not altering their decision, but Dross’s information and the letter from the Marquis were very much on Palfrey’s mind that night. He did not sleep as well as he had been doing.
Nevertheless, he felt rested when he was called by Dross before dawn the next day.
Their arrangements for getting to Kolding – on the main line railway – had been completed, and they planned to be out of Wylen before dawn broke. They were soon on the outskirts of the village, where Dross shook hands in farewell, as the first grey light dawned in the eastern sky. It grew gradually brighter as they made their way through beech woods and across heather-clad country towards the town.
They had nothing in their pockets except their identification papers as Swiss nationals. They were all familiar with the signatures of the people whom they were impersonating; and each had learned by heart a brief history of their respective counterparts. Palfrey was chiefly concerned with the fact that it was an odd way of getting to Berlin from Switzerland, but travel in Germany was odd enough as it was in all conscience, and they were not likely to meet with serious trouble en route.
So Palfrey assured himself.
They reached Kolding with an hour to spare, although the train was already in and crowded. They split up into twos, leaving Stefan as the odd man out, and walked up and down in the hope of finding a seat. The train was going to Berlin and the platforms were crowded with people hoping to squeeze in or, alternatively, trusting that another train would be run before long. The only people allowed to see travellers off, Palfrey knew, were officials of the ‘Party’ and friends of the high military officers; the others were all would-be travellers.
They must catch the train which would get them into Berlin soon after dark – unless there had been a heavy raid on any town en route during the last night or two. He had heard of none from Dross, who had been fully informed through the medium of the B.B.C.
Palfrey and Drusilla reached the engine; it was pitted with bullet holes and several pieces of steel were broken off; the hurried repair work was obvious. Most of the doors of the carriages were broken, most of the windows boarded up.
The fireman and driver were on the footplates. The driver, a middle-aged man with a grizzled beard, ogled Drusilla.
Drusilla gave a half smile as she turned away with Palfrey.
‘A minute,’ said the driver in German, jumping down from the footplate. ‘A minute, Fräulein, a word in your ear!’ He winked at Palfrey. ‘There will be four more carriages coupled on the train just before it is due to leave. You will be wise to stay right at the end of the platform.’
‘That’s good of you!’ said Drusilla warmly.
‘You will have to use your elbows and feet to get a seat,’ said the driver ominously. ‘Be ready for a fight!’ He winked again at Palfrey and beamed upon Drusilla, then went back to his engine. Palfrey and Drusilla walked on, encountering Stefan on the way and passing on the news, then finding Conroy and Brian. They went to the extreme end of the platform, which was almost deserted. The crowds gathered about the barrier and the entrance hall, most of them carrying their belongings in bundles, not suitcases. A few higher officials with their batman were standing aloof from the rest.
Then, amongst the crowd, Palfrey saw a little child.
There was something familiar about her pinched face and bright eyes, and the neat ribbon which tied her fair hair. Her white frock, patched with many colours, was also hauntingly familiar. He knew that it was the child whom Dross had brought with him into the stubble field! What was her name? – Lissa, yes, Lissa.
She was alone.
She came towards them with a