The Legion of the Lost, стр. 51
Von Otten said softly: ‘Take him away. I will see him myself, later.’ He stood by as Palfrey scrambled to his feet and brushed down his clothes. The youth was led towards the doors by his two guards; only when the crowd had closed behind them did von Otten pay further attention to Palfrey.
‘Certainly you are not popular,’ he said suavely. ‘I regret that you have been subjected to such treatment, but the young fool will understand his folly better before long. Are you all right?’ He neither sounded nor looked solicitous. ‘Good!’ he added, also without feeling. ‘I am afraid that you will not be able to attend the interrogation, Herr Professor, but I shall send you a full report of what he says. And now—what have your friends been doing?’
Stefan, Brian and Conroy had finished struggling with the tall S.S. man, who was dwarfed by Stefan as they led him forward. The German looked frightened, his face was bruised, one sleeve was ripped open at the shoulder.
‘Excellency—’ he began.
‘Be quiet,’ said von Otten. ‘What did you see him do, Herr Aarlack?’
Stefan said: ‘I think—’
‘He pulled a gun,’ said Conroy harshly. ‘He didn’t make it look like a joke, Excellency. It was pointing this way.’
‘Indeed?’ said von Otten. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I saw the gun,’ said Brian swiftly.
‘Here is the gun,’ said Stefan simply, drawing a Mauser from his pocket.
‘Excellency—’ began the S.S. man desperately.
‘Go on,’ said von Otten, with dangerous quiet.
‘Excellency, I realised that there might be further trouble, I thought it best to be prepared. And then—’ he looked dazedly at Conroy and Stefan. ‘They were upon me and gave me no opportunity to explain!’
‘You fought back,’ said von Otten.
‘I—I did not realise they were friends of your Excellency,’ said the S.S. man, licking his lips. He swallowed hard; Palfrey had rarely seen a man so thoroughly frightened. ‘I assure you, Excellency, that it was no more than that.’
‘You should be more careful in showing a gun,’ said von Otten, then turned impatiently to Palfrey. ‘I think your friends were too zealous, Herr Professor.’
‘They know the need for care,’ said Palfrey.
‘Yes, yes!’ Von Otten sounded impatient. ‘We shall forget it. It does not look as if there will be more dancing tonight, they will need to clear the floor of debris. But it is unimportant. You will be escorted by Stolte. Tomorrow you will discuss further measures with the Fräulein Silversen. I shall not be forgetful of what you and your friends have done here.’
‘Thank you,’ said Palfrey.
Von Otten nodded, took his gauntlets from the table – from which practically everything else had fallen – then bowed towards Drusilla with a smile which Palfrey likened to Stolte’s.
‘I shall look forward to meeting you again, Fräulein,’ said von Otten. ‘Goodnight!’
Drusilla’s smile, as he turned away, was positively radiant.
A path was cleared for von Otten as he approached the door. By then the attackers had been led away. Although a few of the revellers had returned to their tables, there was no serious attempt to start the revelry afresh. Palfrey caught himself out in a yawn and realised that he had slept until twelve o’clock—if he were tired what did the others feel like? He glanced at his watch, to find that it was nearly seven a.m.
Stolte was hovering about him.
‘Are you ready to return, Herr Professor?’ he asked humbly.
‘Yes,’ said Palfrey. ‘Yes, it’s past time.’
There was no chance of getting a taxi, Stolte said as they went upstairs, but it was not a long walk and the cool air of the morning would perhaps freshen them. He deplored that their enjoyment had been so spoiled, but congratulated them on establishing themselves in His Excellency’s good graces-it was no easy thing, he assured them. Palfrey grunted non-committally, and asked whether he knew Fräulein Silversen.
Stolte’s eyes lighted up; Drusilla caught Stefan’s eye; they smiled spontaneously.
‘But of course, Herr Professor! Of late she had been one of us—she is a great friend of Leutnant Bonn.’
‘Bonn?’ echoed Palfrey.
‘Leutnant Karl Bohn, who was with her tonight. He is one of the personal staff of his Excellency,’ said Stolte. His frown suggested that he did not think anything like so much of Karl Bonn as he did of Hilde Silversen.
They reached the apartment in the cold light of morning, when the streets were becoming filled with people. Not for the first time Palfrey was amazed by the lack of traffic – he saw only half a dozen buses along the Unter den Linden and the Kurfeurstenstrasse. But already he was getting accustomed to this unfamiliar Berlin which seemed to have lost itself.
Confused and puzzled by the speed with which Hilde had become personna grata in the opposite camp, Palfrey led the way upstairs, the others advancing single file, with Stolte labouring after them. Out of the communal dining-room-cum-lounge Frau Witt appeared. Palfrey was surprised to see that she wore a gay yellow bandeau about her head and that her hair and person were tidier than he had yet seen.
She smiled, no longer looking hopeless.
‘Good morning, Fräulein—Herr Professor—’ she named them one after the other. ‘There is good fortune this morning. I have been able to obtain some fish!’
The fish just about deserved the name and was not improved by a thickish, yellow sauce which had a peculiar, metallic flavour – ersatz stuff, thought Palfrey. The whole meal was spoiled by the presence of the hungry and gloating-eyed Stolte, who invited himself to breakfast and would have invited himself to a share of one of the double beds had not Palfrey told him pointedly that they would not be ready to go out again until the afternoon, and that they did not want him to stay on duty indefinitely. Stolte beamed, said that he appreciated their thoughtfulness, that it was pleasant for him to have some free time. Off he waddled, and when he had gone Palfrey went downstairs and summoned Frau Witt.
She came