definitely land him in a concentration-camp for the rest of the war.
Towards eleven Gregory ceased his incoherent muttering and dropped into a troubled slumber, so Freddie decided to see that night through and take a fresh decision the following morning. If Gregory were better they could rediscuss the situation but if he were worse there would be nothing for it but to seek help by surrender.
Just as Freddie was settling himself down to sleep he heard footsteps approaching, then voices talking in German. Stiffening in immediate alarm he crouched there in the gully, his heart thudding against his ribs. Peering towards the sound he strained his eyes but in the darkness he could see nothing. The footstepshalted about a dozen yards away and there was further talking. His forehead was suddenly damp with sweat.
As he strove to silence his quickened breathing the awful urge to cough gripped him, as it had up in the tree. Closing his eyes he fought it down, but cramp got him in the leg that was doubled under him and he was forced to move it. The twigs snapped beneath him but just at that moment the rustling in the bushes came once more, and this time it was moving away. After a further five minutes of tense listening he grew calmer and decided that they were safe again. The sweat on his brow was turning icy with the cold. With a heavy sigh he brushed it off and, settling himself, endeavoured to court forgetfulness in sleep.
When he opened his eyes the cold light of a new day showed the trees and brambles rimed in frost. It was a fairy scene but one which filled him only with fresh dismay. He lifted the white-powdered collar of Gregoryâs greatcoat and saw that the wounded man was pale but breathing evenly. As he sat up he heard a faint noise just behind him.
It came from the direction in which he had heard the Germans speaking in the darkness the night before. Instantly Gregoryâs suggestion that the gunners might leave pickets posted in the wood flashed into his mind. Swinging round he very cautiously raised his head and peered between the thorny strands of the blackberry bushes.
Something grey caught his eye; it lifted a little and he saw the flat, round brim of a German officerâs cap. He tried to duck back; but it was too late. A lean, grey-moustached face had risen above the brambles and a pair of hard blue eyes were staring straight into his. As he instinctively rose to his feet the German stood up and his hand was already on the automatic at his belt.
Chapter III
The Colonel-Baron Von Lutz
Having only just woken, Charltonâs circulation had not yet got going; he was bitterly cold from his night in the woods and his brain was still half-fogged with sleep. In addition, it was now Friday morning and he had not had a proper meal since Wednesday. Yet, in spite of his lowered vitality and half-dazed condition, he realised that the only chance of escaping capture now lay in an immediate attempt to overcome this solitary German. Bracing his muscles and lowering his head he hurled himself forward.
Several feet of brambles separated them. Before Freddie had plunged a couple of paces through the tangle the officer had whipped out his automatic and spat out with a threatening scowl:
â
Holten Sie da!
â
The lean, grey-moustached face of the German showed stern resolution; his blue eyes were cold and commanding; the blue-black steel barrel of the big pistol that was trained so unwaveringly upon Charltonâs middle held a threat which he could not ignore. It would have been stark lunacy to force the hand of such a man with such a weapon. Pulling up with a jerk Freddie slowly raised his clenched fists above his head.
As he stared at the German he thought with bitter fury how utterly futile it had been to spend the last thirty miserable hours hiding in the wood only to be caught at last. Evidently Gregory had been quite wrong in his supposition that, having searched the wood without success, the soldiers
Towards eleven Gregory ceased his incoherent muttering and dropped into a troubled slumber, so Freddie decided to see that night through and take a fresh decision the following morning. If Gregory were better they could rediscuss the situation but if he were worse there would be nothing for it but to seek help by surrender.
Just as Freddie was settling himself down to sleep he heard footsteps approaching, then voices talking in German. Stiffening in immediate alarm he crouched there in the gully, his heart thudding against his ribs. Peering towards the sound he strained his eyes but in the darkness he could see nothing. The footstepshalted about a dozen yards away and there was further talking. His forehead was suddenly damp with sweat.
As he strove to silence his quickened breathing the awful urge to cough gripped him, as it had up in the tree. Closing his eyes he fought it down, but cramp got him in the leg that was doubled under him and he was forced to move it. The twigs snapped beneath him but just at that moment the rustling in the bushes came once more, and this time it was moving away. After a further five minutes of tense listening he grew calmer and decided that they were safe again. The sweat on his brow was turning icy with the cold. With a heavy sigh he brushed it off and, settling himself, endeavoured to court forgetfulness in sleep.
When he opened his eyes the cold light of a new day showed the trees and brambles rimed in frost. It was a fairy scene but one which filled him only with fresh dismay. He lifted the white-powdered collar of Gregoryâs greatcoat and saw that the wounded man was pale but breathing evenly. As he sat up he heard a faint noise just behind him.
It came from the direction in which he had heard the Germans speaking in the darkness the night before. Instantly Gregoryâs suggestion that the gunners might leave pickets posted in the wood flashed into his mind. Swinging round he very cautiously raised his head and peered between the thorny strands of the blackberry bushes.
Something grey caught his eye; it lifted a little and he saw the flat, round brim of a German officerâs cap. He tried to duck back; but it was too late. A lean, grey-moustached face had risen above the brambles and a pair of hard blue eyes were staring straight into his. As he instinctively rose to his feet the German stood up and his hand was already on the automatic at his belt.
Chapter III
The Colonel-Baron Von Lutz
Having only just woken, Charltonâs circulation had not yet got going; he was bitterly cold from his night in the woods and his brain was still half-fogged with sleep. In addition, it was now Friday morning and he had not had a proper meal since Wednesday. Yet, in spite of his lowered vitality and half-dazed condition, he realised that the only chance of escaping capture now lay in an immediate attempt to overcome this solitary German. Bracing his muscles and lowering his head he hurled himself forward.
Several feet of brambles separated them. Before Freddie had plunged a couple of paces through the tangle the officer had whipped out his automatic and spat out with a threatening scowl:
â
Holten Sie da!
â
The lean, grey-moustached face of the German showed stern resolution; his blue eyes were cold and commanding; the blue-black steel barrel of the big pistol that was trained so unwaveringly upon Charltonâs middle held a threat which he could not ignore. It would have been stark lunacy to force the hand of such a man with such a weapon. Pulling up with a jerk Freddie slowly raised his clenched fists above his head.
As he stared at the German he thought with bitter fury how utterly futile it had been to spend the last thirty miserable hours hiding in the wood only to be caught at last. Evidently Gregory had been quite wrong in his supposition that, having searched the wood without success, the soldiers
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