The Legion of the Lost, стр. 55
‘I will have you taken away if you talk to me like that! Remember my words!’
Then his footsteps sounded on the stairs.
Palfrey looked down at his companion. Her eyes seemed filled with terror, her lips parted, the pulse in her cheeks working.
‘You must hide me,’ she said, ‘you must get me away without my being seen by Stolte. He mustn’t see me!’
He stood indeterminately as the German’s footsteps drew nearer; the man was on the second landing, soon his head would appear above the banisters.
Palfrey turned to the small room, pushing the door open. As the woman stepped into it he walked swiftly towards the stairs, to try to prevent Stolte from seeing the door close.
Chapter Twenty-Six
More Talk of the Legion
Stolte laboured up the stairs, which creaked at every step, his big yellow teeth showing as he smiled at Palfrey. He made no comment on Frau Witt’s attempt to delay him and gave no sign that he had seen the door of the small room close.
‘Ah, Herr Professor, I am glad to see you again! You have rested well, yes? I hope so, I hope so indeed, for I have to take you to some places which will be of great interest to you.’
‘Nice of you!’ murmured Palfrey. He opened the door of the lounge and stood aside for the German to pass. Stolte was caught for a moment between the door and the framework. He pulled himself through and beamed on Drusilla.
Stefan sat on the corner of the table, expressionless.
‘Ah, Fräulein,’ breathed Stolte. ‘You are as fresh as the day, it is good to see you! And I have good news for all of you. The Count is very pleased with you, very pleased indeed! You did a great service to him last night and he is not a man who will forget that. You have made a friend for life!’
‘Good,’ said Palfrey, cursing the man.
‘Herr Stolte,’ said Stefan suddenly, ‘if that is true, perhaps he can arrange for me to telephone my home? My wife is ill, I received a letter this morning.’ Stefan looked haggard and drawn, and spoke convincingly. ‘I understand it is difficult to telephone from Berlin—’
‘No, no, my friend, you have been misinformed,’ protested Stolte. ‘Only sometimes are the lines closed. Today there is none of that. You will be overheard, yes, everyone is over heard—’ he beamed as if that were a wonderful joke. ‘But then, that is nothing. Please, there is a telephone not far from here. And I understand soon you are to have better quarters, more comfortable—that is because the Count is now your friend. It will be good for all of you.’
‘Yes,’ said Stefan, as if he hardly knew what he was saying. ‘Herr Professor, you will please excuse me? The telephone kiosk, I remember seeing it.’
He reached the door and hurried out, slamming it behind him. Palfrey knew that he was going in the wake of Fräulein von Lichner, at the same time paving the way for announcing his ‘return’ to Switzerland. Palfrey thought a little ruefully that the loss of Stefan would not ease their task.
‘I am so sorry about Herr Aarlack,’ said Stolte, shaking his head commiseratingly. ‘Now I wish to tell you that the assassins, who made that dastardly attack on the Count last night, are all to be shot!’ He clapped his hands gleefully. ‘They are just a number of Communists who have heard of your name, Herr Professor, and of course the Count’s. They planned to kill you all. It is a good thing your friend Aarlack was so quick last night.’
Palfrey said: ‘Have they been questioned?’
‘Quite well and thoroughly, Herr Professor; we have our own little ways! And such men deserve more even than they get. They will be shot mercifully. When they are of no use to us there is no point in allowing them to live and threaten the security of the Third Reich.’
Would his suggestion to von Lichner’s sister do any good? Palfrey wondered gloomily, and doubted it. The interrogation was over; the club-footed youth had suffered as much as a human being could; now he was to be shot. The infuriating part of it was that he, himself, was so helpless and impotent.
He hardly heard Stolte’s droning monologue for the next ten minutes, hardly observed that Stolte had edged towards Drusilla and was now gripping her hand. Drusilla showed no signs of distaste and Stolte went on talking of the wonders of Berlin. He was still talking when Stefan arrived, looking distracted. He stormed into the room and burst out: ‘I must return. It is essential that I return, she is asking for me and they do not think that she will live. Herr Professor, you will give me permission—’
‘But—’ began Stolte, turning at once.
‘Of course,’ said Palfrey quickly. ‘I am extremely sorry to hear it, Aarlack. When is there a train, do you know?’
‘In one hour a train is due to leave,’ said Stefan, ‘but it will be necessary to get to the station early. A thousand thanks, Herr Professor.’
‘Herr Professor!’ gasped Stolte. ‘Herr Aarlack is needed in Berlin, where his work is most important. He—’
‘He will not be away long,’ said Drusilla, smiling into the German’s face; more unapproachable men than Stolte would have found it difficult to resist Drusilla’s smile. ‘We shall be able to advise Herr Aarlack of all we have learned when he returns. Herr Stolte, is there another palace like that we went to last night? Do you remember our dance?’
‘Of course, Fräulein, to my dying day I shall remember the dance. But—’
‘I will help Herr Aarlack pack his case,’ said Palfrey hurriedly. ‘You will not mind entertaining the Fräulein?’ He smiled