Free Faked Passports by Dennis Wheatley Page A

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.”
    â€œIt 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 confidentthat 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 von Lutz had another, which he shared with Freddie as they stumbled up and down 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 saveErika because Grauber would—“
Torture her
—
torture her
—
torture her!
”
    In the silence of the snow-carpeted wood his agonised 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