Evening star. [volume], July 07, 1940, Page 5, Image 81

About Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972

Image provided by: Library of Congress, Washington, DC

                
They crouched in some bodies
by the side of o stream. The
sound of boots drew nearer
"Oh, yes," she said slowly. 'Tve even got
a special pass, which covers most things here.
I nurse in the hospital ten hours a day. You
haven’t been worrying about me?”
“A little,” he confessed. Day and night
she had been in his thoughts, and he guessed
that she knew it.
"We'd better get down to business, hadn’t'
we?” she said. "I’ve got Herr Barthold here.”
"Here — in this house? Good.”
"The old woman’s a gem,” she told him.
"I’m paying her well, but she wouldn't take
a pfennig if she weren’t so desperately poor.
Has the Bureau got everything fixed up for
Herr Barthold’”
"Yes. We must get him across the lake into
Switzerland tomorrow night. Bring him in,
and I’ll explain — Wait!” he added. “I'd
better tell you. I’ve just paid a visit to Colonel
von Siegen.”
“At Intelligence headquarters!” The violet
blue eyes opened: it was the only sign of sur
prise she gave.
"I played a safe card. We nabbed a couple
of their agents near Paris last week, and per
suaded one of them to talk. Orders had been
issued to kill old Barthold, if he got out of
Germany alive.”
"Because he’d been working in the War
Laboratory.
“Yes. I told von Siegen that Barthold is
dead — so they’ve crossed him off the list.
He should be safe, in France, soon. Bring
him in, meine Kleine."
She came back with an elderly man —
short, spare, bearded, with big hollow eyes.
• Raeburn could discern the tremor of his lips
as he advanced with hesitation, bowed, then
gripped the outstretched hand.
“I won’t keep you many moments, Herr
Barthold. Fraulein Osmond has told you who
I am? You cross into Switzerland tomorrow
night. A speedboat will be waiting on the
lake, and we’ve arranged that your friend
Ebnat of Zurich will see you safely into
France. You undertake to tell us all you know
about the work in the Goering War Labora
tory?”
Tears sprang to the dark eyes. "I have
given Fraulein Osmond my assurance."
The girl had spread a large-scale map on
the table, and Raeburn indicated a point on
the shore of the Ostinsee.
“The motorboat will be waiting out there
-from midnight till one hour before daybreak,"
he said to her. “You’ll arrange to get Herr
Barthold on board as early as possible. Can
^ it be done?”
“It's over twenty kilometers from here — ”
Venetia Osmond’s brows were wrinkled —
“I’ll manage it somehow.”
"You'll be glad to get away, Herr Bar
thold?”
The old man gripped Raeburn's hand again.
“How can I thank you — or the Fraulein.
She has saved my life — for what it’s worth.”
“I hope it will be worth a lot to the Allies.
Good luck!”
The girl went with Raeburn to the door.
“How do you get back, Nick?” she asked
anxiously.
“As I came. Von Siegen’s arranging it.
I’ll bail out of a German plane south of the
Vosges.”
“Must you?”
“If I don’t turn up, von Siegen will guess
it was bluff about Barthold’s death. I’ll
come here tomorrow evening to see what
you’ve planned.”
But next morning, at breakfast in the Koe
nenstrasse hotel, a phone call made him think
quickly. “I’ll be out of town today, Herr
Riickert.” It was the Oberst on the line.
“Don't trouble to report at headquarters.
Dine with me tonight instead. I’ll have a
guest I’d like you to meet. Eight o’clock —
the Hotel Wagner.”
He would have refused the invitation it
he had dared. There would be little time now
to help Venetia Osmond — if she should need
help at the last moment. Meantime he had
the whole day on his hands — ten hours of
inactivity. In the afternoon he loitered near
the aerodrome on the outskirts of the town
and watched the machines go up. Night could
not come too soon, when he would be in the
air with the comforting knowledge that Bar
thold was on his way into Switzerland.
one point he was now determined —
Venetia Osmond was going too. She thought
she was safe in her hospital job; but how
could one be sure? It was seven o’clock before
he set out for her lodgings; but he played for
safety by doubling twice in his tracks be
fore he hurried down the lane. She was waiting
upstairs, and he guessed from her look that
things had gone well.
“Yes —thanks to the old dame! Her
brother runs a little motor van for collecting
market produce from farms near the lake.
Tonight he’s going to take us. I went there
today to get the lay of the land.”
“You did?” A load seemed to slip from his
shoulders. "One last word, Liebsle. I want you
to go away with Barthold — out of this coun
try.”
“The chief’s orders?” There was an eager
catch in her breath — her hands seized his.
“No — mine! You’ve done damned good
work. Get back while you can. Promise?”
She turned away. “We’ll see, Nick. No
promises — please.”
“Damn! If I weren’t dining with von
Siegen, I’d stop and argue. Why in hell won’t
you go?” He raised her chin.
“I must have time to think.” Her eyes
were steady. “My job’s here. You’d better
hurry, Nick. Save up a week’s leave in Paris
— sometime. 1 won’t forget.”
A pressure of her fingers, and he was out
in the back lane. He was reluctant to go;
he should have beaten down her’opposition.
She was due a respite from her work here;
the chief at the Bureau would approve. He
felt like turning back; but as it was, he did
not reach the Hotel Wagner until eight
o’clock was striking, and he was taken up to
the Oberst’s suite.
Von Siegen came out into the corridor.
“You’re punctual, Herr Riickert!” His voice
fell to a confidential note. “Did I tell you
I’ve got another guest? Fraulein Breitner
can be trusted. She’s in the Intelligence de
partment here, so you can talk freely.”
Breitner! The name was faintly familiar
to Raeburn, and as he entered, he was grop
ing in nis memory. ms nr sc gumpse oi ner,
tall and dark beside the orange glow of the
electric fire, hwknew with a shock of dismay
that he had met her somewhere. He made
his bow over her outstretched hand.
'Tve just been hearing about you, Herr
Riickert,” she said with a smile, her cigarette
poised between slim fingers.
“I hope it was complimentary, gnddige
Frdulein/”
"To drop from a plane in the dark, my
dear,” said von Siegen, pouring out the
aperitifs, “well — it requires courage.”
“That’s to be expected in our agents!”
There was a friendly glint in her dark eyes.
“You go back tonight, I believe, Herr Ruck
ert?”
So she was in the Oberst's confidence!
Their talk flowed lightly as the dining table
was wheeled smoothly in through folding
doors. Lili Breitner . . . Yes, he could place
her now. They had met one night in a Paris
cafe before the war, and next day he had
heard she was employed by the German
Intelligence department. Her memory of
faces could not be faulty, yet she gave no sign
of recognition. As the meal progressed, his
discomfort became acute. He caught a side
glance she gave him, and suddenly he realized
why Lili Breitner was here at dinner. She had
been asked to check up on him before he was
permitted to return to France.
“It’s strange we never met in Paris last
summer, Herr Riickert,” she said amiably.
“I knew some of your friends. Liszt, for one.”
“Yes, it’s odd, Fraulein,” he assented. Was
she playing with him, he wondered. Did
it amuse her to keep him in suspense? Or
had she failed to recollect that cafe meeting?
His discomfort lessened, but he watched his
host closely. By the end of dinner one thing
was plain to him. This girl and von Siegen
were on intimate terms; the man’s adm: a
tion could be seen every time his pale eyes
rested upon her.
irm
1 hanks, I prefer my own cigarettes,” she
was saying. “I think I’ve left them in the
next room.”
Von Siegen opened a box of cigars. “I must
see what’s wrong,” he remarked when she did
not return, and the communicating door
swung gently behind him. The excuse was
obvious; he wanted Lili Breitner’s report.
Raeburn drew in a quick breath. If she
had been pretending — if at this moment she
was whispering the truth — now was his
chance, the only chance he was likely to get.
No doubt they had taken precautions; there
would be Gestapo men downstairs, but he
might slip by them if he was quick enough.
He swung back as von Siegen returned,
and the two men faced each other. Raeburn’s
heart gave a jump, for there was relief in
the pale gray eyes. Fraulein Breitner followed
him, her face expressionless.
With fingers which he contrived to keep
steady, Raeburn held a match to his cigar.
If she had been playing with him during
dinner, why had she not denounced him? If
he read the signs aright, she had told von
Siegen nothing. The man was now completely
satisfied, for presently he handed back the
slip of paper with the special watermark
which was worth more than a passport at
every Intelligence headquarters on the fron
tier.
But as time went on, Raeburn could see
that the girl was restless. When the phone
bell hummed, and the Oberst went out to
interview an officer from headquarters, Frau
lein Breitner sprang to her feet.
“Herr Ruckert— Did you think I’d for
gotten you — Captain Raeburn?” She spoke
in a rapid whisper.
“Frankly, I found it difficult to believe,
Fraulein.” He was backing towards the door,
but she intercepted him.
(Continued on pago 10)