Curtain Of Fear Part 15

"Then this riot we've created saved him from running his head into a noose. That's something. But what did he say? What did he say?"

"He ... he rang up to let us know his escape route. He tried before, but the line was blocked. That other call. It ... it's along a telegraph cable that crosses the ca.n.a.l."

Nicholas no longer wondered that Fedora's thin cheeks had gone a greenish tinge. He shook his head. "Even if you were good at heights, we couldn't make it. To carry one's whole weight on one's arms across sixty feet of s.p.a.ce would need the muscles of a Tarzan."

"It's not as bad as that," Fedora gulped. "Pan s.m.u.tn said there is some special apparatus to take the weight, under the bed in his bedroom."

"Praises be!" cried Nicholas, pivoting on toe and heel and rushing from the room. A moment later he was dragging the escape gear from under Mr. s.m.u.tn's bed. There was enough for four people. Each set consisted of a six-inch broad leather belt, into which was sewn the end of a two-foot length of wire hawser, having at its other end a strong iron hook. The way in which it was intended that the gear should be used was obvious. One had only to buckle the belt round one's waist, put the hook over the telegraph cable, and jump off the parapet. The apparatus took the whole weight of the body, but, by using one's own strength when hanging on to the cable, one could lift oneself enough to enable the hook to slide a few inches at a time, and, as the cable sloped downwards, little impetus would be needed to carry one across to the building on the far side of the ca.n.a.l.

Grabbing up two of the belts, Nicholas hastened back to Fedora and held one of them out to her. "Here!" he cried. "Buckle that round you, and we'll soon be out of this."

She waved it away. "I can't, Nicky! I can't! The very thought of hanging from a telegraph cable absolutely petrifies me!"

"You've got to," he said angrily; and as soon as he had done up his own belt he strapped the other round her waist. Then, seizing her by the wrist, he dragged her after him out of the room and along to the door that gave on to the roof.

Now smoke lit by a reddish glare was billowing up from outside the parapet, tongues of flame had broken out from several of the skylights and showers of sparks were being blown about by every breath of wind. From below there came a fierce crackling and it was clear that before long the whole roof would be ablaze.

Pulling the terrified Fedora after him, Nicholas made his way along inside the parapet to the ca.n.a.l end of the building, where the telegraph cable swung from the tall steel stanchion. Halting by it, he said to her: "For G.o.d's sake pull yourself together. You have only to do as I tell you, and you'll be perfectly all right."

"I can't!" she moaned. "Please, please don't make me!"

"You've got to," he insisted.

"No! No!" she tried to twist away from him. "You go. Leave me behind."

"Is it likely? Fedora, you've been so splendid up to now. Come on! Make an effort. Shut your eyes."

Jittering with fear, she obeyed him, and let him help her up on to the parapet. Feeling for the long strap of her pouch bag, she slipped it over her head, so that it should not slide from her shoulder; then she opened her eyes and looked down. At the sight of the water glinting faintly sixty feet below her, she let out a low wail and swayed outward.

Nicholas caught her only just in time. His grab at her arm drew the upper part of her body inward, but her legs folded under her and she toppled right on to him. As he staggered back under the impact he realised that she had fainted.

Behind him there was now an angry roaring. One of the skylights fell in with a faint crash. From the aperture it left, a great tongue of flame shot up fifteen feet above the roof level. It was no longer possible to see across to the penthouse through the dense smoke and clouds of drifting sparks. The air had become hot and searing. It was difficult to breathe and the fumes made every breath painful. Nicholas knew that if he did not get away in the next few minutes, he would never get away at all.

There were no means and no time to attempt to revive Fedora. She was right out, and as limp as if she were dead. For a moment Nicholas stared down at her as she lay, face up, sprawled half across the parapet; then, seizing the hook attached to the belt round her waist, he tried to get it over the cable. Almost at once he saw that it could not be done. With only one hand he could not lift her high enough. He wondered how he could possibly save her. To pick her up and carry her across in his arms was out of the question, as he would need both his hands to propel himself along. Taking out his silk handkerchief, he mopped away the sweat that was streaming from his face.

The feel of the handkerchief gave him an idea. It was the same one which he had used to bandage his eyes in the X-cell that afternoon. Laying it on Fedora's chest, he quickly made a corner to corner bandage of it again, folding it now as many times as he could. Crossing her wrists one over the other on the centre of it he bound them together, tying the ends of the handkerchief in a reef knot, so that the greater the strain upon it the tighter it would become. Then he stooped his head and slid it between Fedora's arms so that her bound hands were at the back of his neck.

There came a moment when he feared he would never manage to accomplish the next stage. He had to lift her, climb up on the parapet and get the hook attached to his own belt over the cable. He was within an ace of overbalancing; but, with a frantic effort, he got the hook over just in time. It took their combined weight, and he breathed again.

Half-blinded by the smoke and choking from fumes, he pushed off. Instantly Fedora became a dead weight round his neck. The hook jerked the leather belt up so that its edge cut into his ribs, and he let out a gasp of pain. Tightening his grasp on the cable, he endeavoured to take his own weight and hers on his arm muscles. For a moment he managed to support it; but the hook did not slide along the cable because the angle was not steep enough, owing to the slight dip it made at the point from which he hung.

Spurred to a fresh effort by the scorching blast now rising from the roof beside him, he did a second pull up; then knocked the hook with his left hand while supporting himself with his right. It moved a few inches.

After resting for a moment, he repeated the movement with the same satisfactory result. Hope now battling with fear he continued the jerky motion, edging his way out from the burning building across the yawning gulf. But every few inches of progress was bought at the cost of a greater agony. When he rested his arms it seemed as if the leather belt was going to cut him in half, and each time he took the strain on his arms it seemed as if they were being torn from their sockets.

He was fifteen feet out when he heard something snap. He could not see anything by looking down, as the unconscious Fedora's head, hanging backwards so that her chin jutted up towards him, blocked his view below chest level. But he felt sure that some part of his belt had given.

Next moment, as he let their full weight be taken by the hook again, there came a tearing sound. Hastily, he tightened his grasp upon the cable, then gradually relaxed. Swiftly the full horror of his situation was borne in upon him. The gear had been made to take only one person, and the combined weight of two had proved too much for it. The two-foot length of wire hawser, to which the hook was attached, was tearing itself from its setting in the belt.

Once more he moved a few inches; but as he let himself down the belt refused to take the strain. He now had to hang on without respite. Sweat was streaming down his face. Every muscle in his body was as taut as a bow-string. The pull of Fedora upon him had the same effect as if his limbs were being slowly wrenched apart by the pulleys of a medieval rack. He was barely a quarter of the way across the chasm. He could not go forward and he could not go back. The cable hurt his palms intolerably. His grip began to slip. His left hand opened and only its finger tips still kept a precarious hold on the cable. Suddenly they slid from it. He was hanging now only by his right hand. For another moment he remained suspended by it. Then that opened too. With a groan he let go, and together they plunged into the dark abyss.

CHAPTER XVII.

ORDEAL BY WATER.

Nicholas' left arm had fallen to his side. His right remained stretched to its utmost reach above his head, as though in some parody of a Fascist salute. At the final sharp rending noise, as the last st.i.tches that held the short length of wire hawser to the belt had given way, the two bodies fell like a plummet.

Fedora was still completely out, hanging by her arms from Nicholas' neck, her head at his chest-level lolling limply back. His head too was thrown back. Despite the pull he had forced it back as, his eyes bulging from the strain, he had kept them riveted on his hands, the cable and the hook. Now, as he shot downwards, he had the illusion that he was not moving. Instead, it seemed as if some unseen power had suddenly s.n.a.t.c.hed the cable and the hook upward from him. At one moment the cable had been as thick as the double barrel of a sporting gun; at the next it was no more than a black thread against the starry sky. In that same moment the sky itself seemed about to be swallowed up in darkness. As he had hung from the cable staring upwards, the buildings on either side of him had been outside his cone of vision; as he fell their tops came into it, then their black bulks, rushing together with the speed of express trains, as though about to collide, disintegrate, and crush him under a mountain of rubble.

Yet, had he and Fedora practised that inverted dive scores of times to make a living by it in a circus, they could not have performed it better. It was their absolute rigidity which saved them from any serious harm. Fedora's toes, hanging a foot or more below Nicholas' feet, formed the arrow point of their combination as effectively as would have a diver's out-thrust hands; the faces of both were upturned, and the back of her head broke the force with which the water would otherwise have hit him under the chin. With scarcely a splash they pierced the surface and disappeared beneath it.

The ca.n.a.l was only about eight feet deep. Although the water checked the speed of their fall, they plunged to its bottom almost instantly. Had it been man-made, and concreted, the legs of both of them must have been broken; but it was an old river-bed thick with the silt of ages. Yet this very fact which saved them from crippling injuries now threatened to bring about their deaths. Fedora was plunged in the mud up to her knees, and Nicholas well past his ankles.

Only one factor gave them any chance of surviving. As they had struck the water feet first and face to face, the breath had not been driven from their bodies. That saved them from instant suffocation and left Nicholas with enough strength to struggle.

For a moment the nightmare of an agonising death down there in the chill, pitch darkness was strong upon him. It seemed as if his feet were gripped in a rubber vice and that he would never be able to get them free. Panic seized him. He found his hands grasping Fedora's shoulders. Thrusting down upon them with all his strength, he arched his back and tore his feet out of the mud. But her arms were still locked round his neck so he could not push himself up to the surface.

It was then he felt her move. The shock of the cold water had brought her round, and she too had begun to struggle. Seizing her round the waist he strove to draw her upward, but she was too deeply imbedded for his efforts to raise her, even a few inches.

His lungs now seemed on the point of bursting. Stars and circles danced wildly in front of his closed eyes. Desperately he tried to think clearly and co-ordinate his movements so as not to waste his failing strength. But he could not. He gulped in a mouthful of evil-tasting water and it caused him excruciating pain as it gushed down his throat. Wildly now, he struck out in all directions. Then something hard but supple hit him on the head and slid down over his face.

Groping at it with both hands he found it was a rope. In his straining chest his heart leapt with new hope as he pulled a length of it towards him. By frantic fumbling he managed to thrust a bight of it under Fedora's right arm and round her back, so that he could clutch it firmly with his right hand; then with his left, he began to jerk violently on the vertical length that ran upwards to the surface, praying that whoever had thrown it would take his jerks for signals that he had secured himself to it.

An age seemed to pa.s.s before anything further happened. Despite himself his mouth opened again and gulped in more water. Renewed panic and terror made him kick out afresh; but Fedora was still fast in the mud and formed as effective an anchor for him as if she had been a ton of lead. At last the rope tightened. Then a new agony began. Fearing that he might not prove strong enough to keep hold of the bight of rope round Fedora, he had slipped his forearm through it. Now his arm was caught and crushed against her ribs and, although protecting them, felt as though it was being cut through.

As the strain increased, he could have screamed with agony; but Fedora too was conscious that an attempt was being made to rescue them, and was exerting every ounce of her remaining strength in an endeavour to kick herself free. As she got one leg out, its sudden release caused them to lurch sideways. The rope slipped higher, giving him momentary relief; then as the strain was taken up again it caused him fresh torture by cutting into his bicep. Another moment of excruciating pain, and the ordeal was over. The mud released its last hold and, though the rope slackened, they were drawn to the surface.

During the next few minutes neither of them had a very clear impression of what was happening. As they gulped air into their bursting lungs they smelt the stench of the foul water, and felt rough hands dragging them from it. For a brief interval they lay sprawled on the hard boards of a deck, vaguely conscious of the lurid fire still raging far above their heads, drifting clouds of smoke, and the mutter of low, urgent voices nearby. Then all these were blotted out by a big tarpaulin being hastily dragged over them.

When, after a few more minutes, Nicholas' thoughts became coherent again, he could hear Fedora breathing fast but regularly as she laboured to restore her respiration to normal; so he knew that she could have suffered no great harm. His next thought was that while they were exceedingly lucky to be alive at all, they were still luckier in having fallen into friendly hands; for it seemed evident that they had. He had registered just enough of his surroundings to know that they had been hauled aboard a motor river barge, and he felt sure that the tarpaulin could have been thrown over them only to hide them from any police who might be watching the ca.n.a.l, as the barge chugged past the streets adjacent to the warehouse. Temporarily relieved of any immediate fears, he gave his mind to the minor physical ills he had sustained, spitting out the filthy water he had swallowed, gently ma.s.saging his arm where the rope had chafed it, and generally pulling himself together.

Five minutes later his surmise, that they were among friends, was confirmed. The tarpaulin was lifted off them and a gruff voice said, "We are just about to turn into the river; but I take it you two have no wish to be landed yet awhile?"

The man who had spoken to them was a big, bearded fellow, wearing a square pilot jacket and a peaked seaman's cap. Swiftly and simultaneously the two fugitives answered him, saying they would prefer to remain on board. At their eagerness he laughed, and said while helping Fedora to her feet: "When I saw you hanging from that cable, and all those Coms down in the street, I guessed it must be you that they were after. No one who was not on the run would have taken such a suicidal risk to escape the fire alone-not when they could have signalled for a fire ladder to be run up to them. But come down to the cabin and get your wet things off."

Still holding Fedora by the arm, he led the way across the deck and down a short steep ladder to a low cabin which was dimly lit by a single oil lamp. As he turned up its wick he went on: "My name is Sova-Karel Sova. Don't tell me yours if you'd prefer not to. I'm the master of this barge, and we're taking a cargo of army boots down the Moldau as far at Litomice."

"We owe our lives to you, Pan Sova," said Nicholas with deep feeling; and Fedora chimed in, "Indeed we do, and there are no words with which we can thank you."

"It is G.o.d you should thank," came the quick reply. "For this night, He clearly had His hand over you. Since you did not break your necks in your fall, you should certainly still be stuck in the mud at the bottom of the ca.n.a.l. At that hour, the chances against a barge pa.s.sing the place at which you dropped, close enough to mark the spot and throw you a rope, must be at least a thousand to one. And I was due to sail at midnight. Had not my wife been suddenly taken ill I should by this time have been an hour and a half's distance away down the river."

"Surely more even than that," Nicholas murmured, "as it must be getting on towards morning."

The bearded Sova pulled out an old-fashioned turnip watch, and glanced at it. "Not much," he said. "It is now twenty minutes to two, and it can hardly be more than ten minutes ago that we picked you up."

It had been ten minutes to one when the alarm bell had gone in Mr. s.m.u.tn's penthouse. Nicholas found it almost impossible to believe that all the frightful experiences he had undergone, from that moment till he had been pulled out of the water, had occurred inside forty minutes. Yet there was no contesting it; and it was even more remarkable that only owing to the sudden illness of a woman they had never seen, he and Fedora should be alive.

As Fedora said she hoped Mrs. Sova's illness was nothing serious, the barge-master produced from a locker the inevitable bottle of Slivowitz and gla.s.ses. Setting them on the square table that occupied most of the floor-s.p.a.ce of the cabin, he said: "Thank you, Slena, it might be worse. Five years ago, before we knew better about such things, several hundred women marched in a procession to protest about the price of bread. The Coms dispersed them with rifle fire and my wife was among the wounded. She recovered, praise be to G.o.d; but twice since, when she has over-excited herself, the wound has reopened, and it did so again tonight. So I had to make her as comfortable as I could, and leave her behind."

"She usually comes with you on your trips, then?" said Nicholas.

Sova nodded. "Yes: and that is fortunate as matters have turned out. It will enable me to provide some woman's clothes for the Slena while her own are drying. It is lucky, too, that the night is so fine and warm, otherwise you might already have caught a severe chill. But you both look very white and shaken by your terrible experience. Drink this, and it will put new life into you."

As he spoke he pushed two tumblers that he had half-filled with Slivowitz across the table, and motioned them to sit down to it. The plum brandy was raw stuff and burnt their throats as it went down, but it was just what they needed to prevent them from collapsing after the shock they had sustained.

While they were drinking it the barge-master opened two low doors; one on either side of the cabin. The first was that to the galley, in which a small stove was glowing brightly; above it he pointed out some racks which were specially constructed for drying clothes. The second led to a double sleeping cabin, and as he showed it to them, he said: "My crew of two sleep forward. These are my married quarters, and I fear you must share them whether you are married or not, as I have no others to offer you. But you will be safe and comfortable here; and you will find plenty of dry clothes belonging to my wife and myself. Please help yourselves to such night things as you want. If you put your own things on the racks in the galley they will be dry long before morning. And you have no need to worry about me. In any case I should take several hours at the wheel, and I often stay on deck all through these short summer nights."

When they had thanked him, he was about to leave them, but Fedora said, "One moment please, Pan Sova. As you are going down river you will pa.s.s quite near the Ruzyn airport, won't you?"

"Fairly near," he agreed. "It lies about four to five kilometres from the right bank of the river."

"Then could you possibly land us somewhere near there? We have friends who live near the airport and are willing to hide us. In fact we were waiting for a car to take us out to them when the warehouse in which we had taken refuge was raided."

He nodded. "I could land you; but it will still be dark when we pa.s.s that bend in the river; and as I am late already I dare not wait about until it is light before putting you ash.o.r.e. Do you know the district well?"

Fedora shook her head. "No; hardly at all."

"Then, unless you have very urgent reasons for trying to get to your friends before morning, I certainly would not advise you to attempt it. All the chances are that you would become hopelessly lost while striving to find your way across country in the darkness."

"But it is urgent!" Nicholas put in, suddenly alarmed by the thought that unless they got off the barge fairly soon they might be carried many miles down river. "It is terribly urgent. Whatever happens we have got to be at an inn near the airport by midday to-morrow."

Sova smiled. "Ah! that is rather different. And in that case I think I can help you. A kilometre or so past the bend there is a hamlet, and a cousin of mine owns a farm there. I could land you practically at his door, and I am sure he would put you up for the rest of the night. Then in the morning he, or one of his people, could drive you over to Ruzyn."

Again in Nicholas' mind the necessity for stopping Bilto leaving England had a.s.sumed priority over all else; so it was with great relief that he exclaimed, "If you could do that, we'd be most terribly grateful."

Fedora added her thanks, then asked, "About what time should we reach this hamlet where your cousin has his farm?"

"About four o'clock," replied Sova, after a moment's thought. "That means you have a little over two hours in which to rest and dry your clothes, so I should lose no time in getting them off. In case you drop asleep, I will come down at about ten to four and give you a call."

Once more they thanked him, then he went up the short ladder to the deck and closed the hatch behind him.

Nicholas looked across at Fedora. She was in a shocking state. Her satchel-bag was still slung round her neck, but she had lost her beret in the water, and her coronet of plaits had come undone so that they now hung about her head in a ring of sodden rat's-tails. Her face was begrimed, blood was seeping from a cut on her neck and her hands were filthy. To drag herself free from the grip of the ooze she had had to abandon both her shoes, and she was smothered in mud nearly up to her waist. Raising a smile, he asked: "How are you feeling?"

"I'm alive," she replied. "But that's just about all. And even that I owe to you. I'm thoroughly ashamed of the exhibition I made of myself up on the roof."

"You needn't be," he a.s.sured her sincerely. "You are the bravest woman I've ever met, Fedora. And if you hadn't come down to the fourth floor to guide me back, we'd neither of us be here now. So that makes us quits. Come on, now, let me play lady's-maid again and help you get your wet clothes off."

She shook her head. "No, Nicky. I can't face it. That rope with which they pulled us out gave my back h.e.l.l. I'd rather let my clothes dry on me."

"You'll catch your death of cold."

"What's it matter? We are clear of the Coms now. They must believe that we were burnt to cinders in the pent-house. Anyway, there is no possible means by which they can trace us; so, unless we get a shockingly bad break, by this time to-morrow we'll be in bed and asleep in London. Having caught a cold won't spoil that for me."

"Nor me!" he agreed feelingly. "All the same, I'm going to get my things off; and you might as well let me take off your frock, anyway. Then if you sit by the stove your underclothes won't feel so cold and clammy."

To his last suggestion he persuaded her to agree, and having settled her in the galley he retired into the little sleeping cabin. On one of its bulkheads hung a mirror. When he glanced in it he hardly knew himself. His hair was a matted tangle, his eyes were bloodshot and his face, which seemed much thinner, was streaked with soot marks.

One end of the cabin was occupied by a dressing chest and the other by a broad shelf that formed a wash-stand. Having got his clothes off, he gave himself a good rub down, slipped on Sova's dressing gown, and carried his own things through to dry. Then he had a good wash and brush up and, now feeling considerably refreshed, decided that he must do something about Fedora. Refilling the wash basin, and collecting some towels and toilet things, he carried them through to her.

While talking with Sova she had given the impression that she had recovered remarkably quickly from her ordeal; but Nicholas realised that must have been a flash in the pan, as she now appeared thoroughly exhausted. Seeing that she was incapable of making any effort, he washed her face and hands for her, then undid the plaits, dried her silvery-gold hair, and gave it a good brushing.

When he had finished she took his hand, pressed it, and smiled up into his face. "Thank you, Nicky. You are being awfully good to me; and I don't deserve it, as I got you into all this."

He returned her smile. "No, I got myself into it; and you, too, in a way. If I hadn't impersonated Bilto in the first place you would never had been sent to Prague. Anyhow, the object of both of us was to stop him, and if our luck holds we'll succeed in that yet. That's the only thing that matters."

As they were both only partially clad they remained in the warm galley, sitting on two boxes of stores, with their backs against the bulkhead and their feet thrust out towards the stove. After Nicholas' ministrations Fedora felt much more comfortable and fell into a doze; but his brain remained too active for him to get a nap.

In considering their prospects, he decided that if they could reach the inn owned by Mr. Lutonsk there seemed no reason why they should not get away as arranged. Even if the two telephone conversations between s.m.u.tn and Lutonsk had been taken down by some spy in the exchange, nothing could have been made of them, as they had been couched in such cryptic language. That s.m.u.tn had escaped capture was evident from his telephone call about the apparatus for crossing the ca.n.a.l by the telegraph cable; therefore the police had nothing at all to go on which could connect Fedora and himself with Lutonsk or Jirka.

But he was by no means so optimistic about Fedora's idea that they might sleep the following night in London. Apparently the 'funnel' was a well-established escape route in frequent use; so, barring unforeseen accidents, it should get them to Frankfurt. About their onward journey from there, though, although there would be no dangers, there would certainly be difficulties. They had no money for fares and their pa.s.sports had been taken from them; so they might be held for several days before they could fully establish their ident.i.ties and get themselves repatriated.

It occurred to him that as Fedora had been working against the Communists in London she must have contacts in the British Secret Service, and that through them she might be able to short-circuit many official bottle-necks; but, even so, it would take her several hours, at least, before she could secure a clearance through them, and the means to fly on to England.

However, all that was really immaterial. Once they had got to Frankfurt, or even to the nearest town on the other side of the Iron Curtain, there would be nothing more to worry about. The Americans would certainly not deny them facilities for telephoning to London, and he had no doubt at all that once he had spoken to Scotland Yard, Bilto would be arrested within the hour.

His thoughts then drifted back for a while to the terrifying experiences he had been through during the day; but cleaning himself and Fedora up had taken longer than he supposed, so he was quite surprised when the barge-master came down to tell them that it was getting on for four o'clock, and they were nearing their destination.

Sova put a pot of coffee on the stove, then left them to dress. Nicholas' suit and shoes were still a little damp but the lighter garments had dried out well. Among them was the big silk handkerchief that he had used to tie Fedora's wrists, as Sova had brought it down after untying them. Since she now had nothing to put on her head, and her long fair locks were loose again, Nicholas suggested that she should make them less conspicuous by using it as a head scarf. As she tied its ends under her chin she looked down ruefully at her ruined stockings and shoeless feet, and said: "I hope Mr. Sova can find me something to walk in, even if it's only an old pair of gym-shoes."

When he rejoined them, she asked him what he could do, and he found for her from among his wife's things a pair of open-topped leather boots, typical of those worn by Czech countrywomen. As they proved too large, he gave her a pair of socks, and with these over her stockings the boots fitted fairly comfortably.

The coffee was the usual ersatz stuff, but with a shot of Slivowitz added it did not taste too bad. They had only just finished it when there came a hail from above and the barge began to slow down. Sova ran up the ladder and they followed him. Crossing the short after-deck, he took the wheel from an elderly man, who wished them 'good morning', although the first light of dawn had not yet come. The placid river was faintly lit by starlight; there were no other boats in the vicinity, but about a hundred yards ahead they could make out a deserted jetty.

As they came nearer to it they saw that it was little more than a ramshackle landing stage with a solitary lean-to on its landward side. Sova stopped the motor; the barge drifted on, gradually losing way. A man holding a rope in the bows jumped on to the wooden staging; a moment later the elderly man near them followed suit, and the barge was made fast. Fedora, Nicholas and Sova stepped ash.o.r.e. The two former shook hands with the crew and thanked them for the part they had played in the rescue. Both men wished them good luck, and cursed the Communists. Then Sova told his men that he did not expect to be gone for more than twenty minutes, and led the way to a cart-track on the far side of the lean-to.

The track ran inland for some two hundred yards, then entered a tree-fringed road. As they turned north along it the sharp roof lines of buildings among the trees ahead stood out against the night sky. They pa.s.sed two cottages standing a little way back from the road, then a long, high barn that ran alongside it. At the end of the barn there was a gate to a farmyard. Halting at it, Sova said: "It would be best if you wait here until I have made certain that my cousin Otokar is still in possession of his farm. He was a fortnight ago; but one can hardly be certain of owning the clothes one stands up in from day to day under our Communist rulers."

As the barge-master set off across the yard to the house, Nicholas asked Fedora, "Are things really as bad as he suggests?"

She nodded. "The Coms can take anything they want on the excuse of Sovietising the country. You must know the first principle of Socialism, 'From each according to his means and to each according to his needs'. That can be made to cover any outrage. I have seen a Com tart take the fur coat off an old lady's back while the tart's policeman pals stood by and laughed. But, of course, the State is the all-time high-robber; and Mr. Sova was referring to the enforcement of the Collective Farm system that has been going on for some time. His cousin's farm may have been taken over without warning or compensation."

"What will have come of him if it has?"

"Oh, he will still be here. That is, unless he resisted and endeavoured to prevent the seizure of his property. In that case he would be shot. Otherwise he would be kept on as a labourer, under some slave-driving brute who has failed at farming himself but knows just enough about it to have got a Government job by joining the Party. They are the boys who collect all the pigs in a district at one farm, where there are no pig-sties, and all the chickens at another, where there are no hen-coops. Most of them get b.u.mped off for incompetence in due course, but that doesn't do the wretched farmer who has been dispossessed any good; and there are always young thugs being educated up in the Party 'Youth' organisations to carry on the slave-driving."

Twelve hours before, Nicholas would not have believed her; but he did now, and said with a sigh, "It all sounds quite frightful. Still, as far as we are concerned, if he is still here, even if he has had the bad luck to be taken over, he will be able to give us a shake-down until morning."