"Perhaps you're right."
"Of course I'm right," Gregory muttered impatiently. "Don't waste any more time in arguing; we haven't got a moment to lose."
"You've thought out a plan, then?"
"I wouldn't say that; it's lust a hunch that we might be able to pull a fast one on these swine while they're collecting their wounded. Tread as softly as you can now and follow me."
For some moments now the Nazis had given up sending pot-shots into the wood. Cautiously at first, and then more loudly, they had been calling to one another until, reassured by their continued immunity from attack, they evidently believed that their surviving enemies had given up the fight and made off. The unwounded were now emerging from their hiding places to give first aid to the wounded and to search for their dead. The woods were silent once more, except for the sound of their voices which came quite clearly and gave a good indication of their positions.
Using extreme caution Gregory and Charlton moved in a wide semi circle round the area occupied by the Nazis, until they struck the lane on the right hand side of the cottage and about half a mile from it. The little building was now almost burnt out and the flames had died down, but a red glow from the ashes still lit its surroundings for some distance. At the edge of the wood Gregory paused and pointed. The motor truck which had brought the S.S. men from Dornitz was still there, parked on the roadside about half way between the place where they stood and the remains of the cottage.
The wood was higher than the road by about four feet; so having warily tiptoed along, weaving their way in and out among the trees on the top of the bank until they were opposite the truck, they were able to look down into it.
As they paused there, holding their breath, two S.S. men, one of whom held a torch, were just lifting a dead or unconscious companion into the back of the open vehicle, and a minute later the torch moved disclosing the bodies of two other Nazis who had been laid out on its floor boards. After the third body had been placed beside the others the man with the torch muttered something and set off at a quick walk down the road towards the cottage, leaving his helper who presumably was the driver just below the place where Gregory and Charlton were crouching. Lighting a cigarette he remained there, his back towards there, facing his van.
Gregory waited until the first man had climbed the bank and disappeared into the trees further along the road then, clubbing his shot gun, he rose slowly to his feet. Balancing himself carefully he raised the gun high in the air, leant forward and let the driver have it. The heavy wooden stock hit the Nazi full on the top of the head. He went down like a pole axed ox, without even a murmur.
"Quick " Gregory whispered, springing down the bank. "You get the engine going while I heave this tell tale cargo into the ditch."
As Freddie scrambled up into the driver's seat Gregory seized the nearest body by the boots and, with one violent jerk, dragged it out of the back of the truck. The engine sputtered for a minute, on the bad petrol. then it burst into a steady roar.
Gregory grabbed a handhold, hauled himself up into the body of the van and veiled
"Go on, man! What the hell are you waiting for?" "You," Freddie yelled back.
"I'm all right. Drive on, for God's sake, or they'll shoot us as we pass the cottage "
The truck moved off with a jerk which nearly threw Gregory ff his feet. Steadying himself with an effort he got a grip on he second Nazi and, exerting all his strength, bundled him overboard; then lurching towards the third in the wildly rocking van he pushed him out of the back, gasped with relief arid flung himself flat.
Once Freddie had shifted gear their get away was so swift hat the remaining Nazis had not enough time to guess what was Happening. No shots came at the truck as it roared past the lowing embers of the cottage and in another moment it was Hurtling away at the top of its speed down the road into the darkness.
Three quarters of a mile further on the lane ended, coming out at right angles into a second class road. As the headlights glimmered on a wire fence dead ahead Charlton jammed on his brakes and brought the truck to a skidding halt.
"Crossroads; which way do you want me to take?" he sang out.
"Half a minute." jumping out of the back Gregory scrambled up the bank on the corner to a signpost which he had glimpsed outlined against a break in the clouds where the moonlight was now filtering through and tried to decipher what was written on it. The bank brought his head within a few inches of the lettering and by holding up matches one after he other their light was just sufficient for him to read
DORNITZ 2 KILOMETRES" on one arm and "GLOINE 3.5 KILOMET'RES' on the other.
"Turn left," he shouted as he ran back and jumped up reside Charlton on the driver's seat. "This road will take us to a place called Gloine. Where the devil that is God knows, but anyhow it's in the opposite direction to Dornitz and we daren't run through there in case the police recognize this van and want to know how we got hold of it.'
The road was fairly flat and Freddie pushed the lorry along at the top of its speed through the sandy Brandenburg countryside which was broken only here and there by woods and was now, outside the glow of the headlights, hidden by the darkness.
Five or six minutes later they rumbled into a straggling township. It was nearly two o'clock in the morning so no one was about, with the exception of a solitary policeman who was standing in the little square beside a memorial to the fallen of the last Great War.
"Drive straight on." muttered Gregory as the lamps of the truck lit a road sign reading: "GORZKE 10 KILOMETRES" and "WIESENBURG 18 KILOMETRES".
He had never heard of these places either; but the wintry night sky was fairly clear and on their way to Gloine he had had an opportunity to get his bearing from the stars and from what he could recall of the map which von Lutz had drawn for them that evening. He now knew the direction in which they were heading and in any case it would have been madness to pull up and ask a policeman, since as soon as the surviving Nazis could reach a telephone they would report the theft of their truck and send out a general call to have it held up wherever sighted.
"Where are we going?" asked Freddie as they left the last houses of Gloine behind and headed for the open country once more.
"This road heads almost due east, which is a bit of luck for us," Gregory replied. "Sooner or later it must get us to Berlin."
” Berlin?" echoed Freddie. "Are you crazy? That's the last place we want to go to 1 I thought you meant to head for the Dutch frontier."
"So you're still thinking of that girl of yours, Angela Fordyce, eh? Well, maybe we'll get to Holland and you'll be able to see her yet, but first I want to find out what's happened to Erika."
"But damn it, man! That means running both our heads into the noose. In a place like Berlin we're absolutely certain to be captured. Besides, we must make the utmost of our start. Our only chance is to make a dash for the Dutch frontier right away."
"Not necessarily, Freddie. And if I were doing any dashing. for frontiers I should head for Denmark, which is nearer than Holland by hundreds of miles."
"Well, I'm jolly sorry for you about Erika, and all that, but I don't think you're quite playing the game in boggling our only chance of escape."
"All right, my dear fellow," Gregory shrugged, have it your own way; just pull up and drop me here. I'll make you a present of my half of the van and you can drive straight to The Hague or wherever it is your delightful young woman hangs out."
"But my German's not half good enough yet," exclaimed the exasperated Freddie. "I'd never be able to get all that way on my own."