Free Evil in a Mask by Dennis Wheatley Page B

only a few hours ago you and your fellow prisoners trapped the owner of this castle and inflicted on him a most painful death. For such a crime, much as I may regret it personally, I see no alternative but to have you and the other two shot.’
    Roger sighed and spread out his hands in a typically French gesture. ‘Should you decide that to be your duty, I’ll not complain. But I pray you, consider the circumstances. Firstly,are you prepared to avow that as a private individual the Baron had any legal right to hold me, Sergeant Fournier and Corporal Vitu prisoner?’
    Dutoff shook his head. ‘No, none whatever. He should have turned the three of you over to the nearest Prussian or Russian military headquarters.’
    â€˜Good. And you will also agree that we had the right to escape if we could?’
    â€˜Every prisoner of war who has not given his parole has that right; but not to commit murder as a means of regaining his freedom.’
    â€˜But the circumstances were exceptional,’ Roger argued. ‘This monster and his men picked us up on the battlefield the night following that ghastly conflict at Eylau. He did not go there as a patriotic Prussian, seeking to secure as many French prisoners as he could for his country before they were found and rescued by their own countrymen. He went to collect men whose wounds would not incapacitate them permanently, with the intention of detaining them here all their lives as serfs to work on his land.’
    Frowning, the Hetman sat back, took another swig of wine, then said angrily, ‘Such conduct is inexcusable. Clearly the Baron disgraced his order as a noble. But these Teutonic Knights are far more barbarous then we Russians are said to be.’
    For a moment he was silent, then he added, ‘All the same, Colonel, murder is murder. Your attempt to escape was fully justified; but not the snaring and killing of this man in cold blood. Whatever cause you had to hate and fear him, nothing can excuse your having taken his life. Although I can understand little of what the Baroness here says in her outbursts, it is obvious that she is demanding justice, and it is my duty to see that she receives it. Would you prefer to be granted a respite until dawn or have me order my Sergeant to get this unpleasant business over now?’
    Roger had played his best cards; his social standing with highly-placed friends in St. Petersburg, his having been made a prisoner unlawfully, his descriptions of the floggings to whichhe had been subjected, as fair reasons for using violence against a man who had decreed life-long slavery for him. But all to no avail.
    Now, he had one card only left up his sleeve and it was a most dangerous one. But, having been condemned to death, he felt that no worse could befall should he play it and it failed. Their glasses of wine being empty, he turned to the glowering Baroness and said, in German. ‘The Russian intends to have me shot, but first I have something to say to him, so tell your man to open another bottle of wine.’
    Staggered by his impertinence and apparent indifference to his fate, she spoke to her man, who uncorked a second flagon and refilled their glasses. Turning to the Hetman, Roger said:
    â€˜Before you have me shot, I would like you to know what led up to our killing the Baron. He had a bailiff named Kutzie—a rough diamond but not a bad fellow. Although they searched us after they picked us up on the battlefield, I had some fifty Napoleons in gold in my money belt, and I managed to hide it from them. When our wounds were sufficiently healed, we began to consider plans for an escape. As the three of us were lame, we knew that we could not get far without being overtaken, unless we had horses. With my gold I succeeded in bribing Kutzie to come to us after dark this evening, and help us to get away in the
troika
.’
    For a moment Roger paused, then he went on. ‘Somehow the Baron found out. You