Free Faked Passports by Dennis Wheatley Page B

attempts to fling himself about, which would have caused his wound to start bleeding again, by holding him down.
    When dawn came they were utterly exhausted. The Baron was grey-faced and heavy-eyed; Freddie had a splitting head and a horrible taste in his mouth; both felt as though they had been up for a week and were so numb from the cold that they feared frost-bite. Gregory had lapsed into unconsciousness again but his head looked like that of a corpse. His cheeks had fallen in and were leaden-coloured under a three days growth of beard, the skin across his forehead was taut, with little beads of perspiration standing out upon it, and his mouth sagged open as though the muscles of his face had relaxed in death.
    At seven o’clock, Magda arrived, bringing breakfast. The previous night her unwelcome guests had said that having nothing to do they did not wish to be called till eight o’clock and she had had food prepared early so that she could get it out of the house before they were about. With hands shaking from the cold her father and Charlton took the welcome bowl of hot stew which she had brought them and the big hunks of bread to dip into it, while she examined Gregory.
    After a moment she turned and shrugged her shoulders. “He is much worse and there is nothing I can do. Another night like this and he will die here.”
    â€œThat must not be allowed,” said her father quickly.
    She gave him a sullen look. “What does it matter? He is an Englishman.”
    As she was speaking in German Freddie could not understand what she said but he sensed the gist of her remarks and her hostility.
    The Prussian aristocrat’s voice was terrifyingly stern as he replied: “Speak only of what you understand, girl. This man risked his life in an attempt to bring about peace and enable us to create a free and better Germany. He is our guest and no effort must be spared or risk remain unrun which will aid his recovery. Go now and send Hans Foldar to me immediately.”
    â€œYes, Father,” Magda murmured with sudden meekness, andwrapping her shawls about her she hurried away to do his bidding.
    For three quarters of an hour they waited then they heard footfalls crunching the newly-fallen snow. Von Lutz peered out from his hiding-place then stood up to greet a tall, broad-shouldered man of about sixty wearing the top-boots, leather jerkin and fur cap of a forester.
    â€œYou sent for me
Herr Oberst-Baron
?” the man inquired in a hoarse voice.
    â€œYes, Hans. You know the situation I am in and are loyally helping to protect me from the Gestapo. That would get you into serious trouble if it became known, but now I have an even greater service to ask of you; one which would certainly mean death for you if you were caught. If this weather continues—and I fear it will—we can’t last long out here in the woods. If we don’t die from cold we shall certainly lose our toes and fingers by frost-bite. Moreover, one of these two friends of mine is wounded and may die unless we can get him into shelter. Are you willing to receive myself and these gentlemen in your cottage?”
    â€œCertainly,
Herr Oberst-Baron.
All that I have came from you and your family so it is yours to dispose of.”
    â€œThank you, Hans. I felt certain that I could rely on you, but I should tell you that these two friends of mine are Englishmen; one is an officer of the British Air Force and the wounded man is a British Secret Service agent who is wanted by the Gestapo. They were in the plane which was shot down a few miles from here three nights ago.”
    â€œThe
Herr Oberst-Baron
knows best. If he thinks it right to protect them that is sufficient for me, too.”
    â€œCome, then; let’s get the wounded man to your cottage as soon as possible. It’s going to be a hard job to carry him all that way but we’ll manage it somehow.”
    The Baron informed Charlton of the arrangement he had