"I shall be grateful if you will have that conveyed to the Field Marshall."
"The Field Marshall is extremely busy," replied the clerk officiously; "much too busy to deal personally with officers' grievances; so sending up your decoration won't do you any good."
Gregory suddenly became the autocratic Prussian officer in a manner that positively startled Freddie. He froze the clerk with an icy stare as he snapped: "How dare you assume that I am an officer with a grievance) Obey my order instantly or the Field Marshal shall hear of this."
The little Jack in office wilted visibly, banged a bell push on his desk and stuttered: "If the Herr Oberst will be pleased to wait in the next room an orderly shall take this up at once."
The adjoining room proved to be a very much larger apartment. Its colour scheme was blue and gold; its furnishings were rich and elegant. Wood fires on open grates a rarity in Germany were burning in two big fireplaces; papers, magazines and periodicals were scattered over a number of tables and the room contained between thirty and forty arm chairs and sofas. There were between a dozen and twenty people already in it, sitting about reading and smoking, so it would have resembled a rich man's club room had not the company been an extremely mixed one. There were several officers of the Reichswehr, Air Force and Black Guards, also a couple of well dressed civilians; but the presence of three women and a peasant in a leather jacket, together with the way in which they all refrained from speaking to one another and kept a watchful eye upon the door as though expecting to be called at any moment, gave it the atmosphere of a dentist's waiting room.
Gregory and Charlton selected an unoccupied sofa and sat down. How long they would have to wait they had no idea but 'it seemed probable that it would be a long time if all the people already gathered there had appointments with the Field Marshal. For ten minutes Gregory flicked over the pages of 'Simplissimus", smiling at the caricatures of Chamberlain, Churchill and John Bull, which were the most prominent 'feature of Germany's leading comic; then he yawned, moved over to an arm chair and, stretching out his feet, remarked:
"We may be here for hours yet so I think I'll get some sleep."
"Sleep?" echoed Freddie. "In this state of uncertainty 1 How can you?"
"Why not?" muttered Gregory. "We may be up again all to night."
"I only hope to God we are "
"So do I, since if we sleep at all to night it may be for good. D'you know that little rhyme?
`A man's not old when his hair turns grey,
A man's not old when his teeth decay,
But it's time he prepared for his last long sleep
When his mind makes appointments that his body can't keep.'
Well, thank God, I'm a long way from having got to that stage yet, so when the time comes you can trust me to put up a show all right, but while we're waiting a spot of shut eye won’t do either of us any harm. We'll be all the fresher for it when we lunch with the Field Marshal."
A major who was seated near by eyed them curiously, as they were speaking in English, but no one else took the least notice of them and while Freddie endeavoured to distract his racing thoughts by trying to puzzle out the captions beneath the pictures in a German illustrated paper Gregory drifted off to sleep.
They did not lunch with Goering. At intervals during the morning many occupants of the room were quietly summoned from the door and had disappeared not to return again, but new arrivals had taken their places and it remained just about as full as when Gregory and Charlton had first entered it. Then, shortly after midday, a portly servant arrived and announced in unctuous tones
"Damen and Herren Schaft, it is His Excellency's pleasure that you should receive his hospitality while you are waiting to be received; but I am asked to remind you that discretion regarding business matters should be observed while you are at table. Please to follow me."
Freddie roused Gregory and with the rest of the waiting company they followed the portly man down a corridor into a large dining room. Gregory's eye lit with appreciation as it fell upon a long sideboard on which was spread a fine, cold collation and, nudging his friend, he whispered:
"There! What did I tell you? Even if we are not lunching with the Field Marshal we are taking lunch off him."
"I wish I could be as certain about dinner," Freddie muttered.
"Oh, we'll probably dine with him personally. You must remember that I haven't had the chance to talk to him yet."
"You lunatic." Freddie suddenly laughed. "I can hardly believe that all this is real, you know. It'd be just like acting in a pantomime except for the kind of nightmare possibilities that lie behind it all."
Gregory grinned. "That's better. Just go on thinking of it that way. In any case, you've got nothing to fear so long as you're inside that uniform. They can only intern you."
"That's all very well, but I'm worried about you."
"Oh, I'm an old soldier. My motto always has been `Eat, drink and be merry, for to morrow we die', and those bottles over there look to me like excellent hock. Goering always does his friends well."
Freddie squeezed Gregory's arm. "Well, whatever happens, I'd like to tell you that I'm proud to have known you."
They had been standing a little apart but now they sat down at the long table and proceeded to enjoy the luncheon provided for them. There was very little general conversation, as the butler's reminder that the reasons for this strange company's having been brought together should not be discussed served to make everyone present extremely cautious. Remarks were confined to the barest civilities and as soon as the meal was over they were all shepherded back into the other room.
In spite of his anxiety Freddie was drowsy now; which, quite apart from the fact that he had been up all night, was not to be wondered at, seeing that during luncheon Gregory had deliberately filled him up with Liebfraumilch Kirkenstuck. By half past two quite a number of people who had arrived much later than themselves had been summoned to the presence, so it seemed as though Goering had his day mapped out and might not receive them for some time to come. In consequence, Freddie decided to follow Gregory's example and they both stretched themselves out in arm chairs, side by side, to get what rest they could.
Coffee and cakes were brought at four o'clock but both Gregory and Charlton refused them and dozed on until after five. People had been coming and going nearly all the afternoon but now the room was almost empty and by six they found themselves alone, which gave Freddie his first chance to speak freely and to ask a question that had been bothering him ever since the morning.
"Why should you be so certain that Goering will see you because you sent up your Iron Cross? He'll probably imagine, as the little clerk said, that you're just an old soldier with a grouse."
"Oh, no, he won't," Gregory smiled. "That Cross is a super visiting card. You see, every decoration has engraved on its back the name of the man upon whom it is conferred. My Iron Cross has von Pleisen's name on it, and von Pleisen was the head of the anti Nazi conspiracy, that darned nearly put paid to little old 'Hitler and all his works, just on three weeks ago. The second Goering sees that name he'll know that whoever has brought the Cross is well worth talking to."
"I get you. Darned good idea, that. But, all the same, isn't there a risk that it will never get further than one of his staff someone who'll just have us up and question us and once the cat is out of the bag put us through the hoop?"