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Russians, Gregory knew, were notoriously open to graft and it had already occurred to him to try to bribe Kuporovitch; but he wondered desperately if he dared to risk it. The fact that the General had been collecting valuta for years with a view to shaking the dust of the Soviet off his feet would make him eager to acquire foreign currency that he could secure without risk of being reported. But if he were offered a large bribe he would know that his prisoner had had no opportunity to secrete the money since he had arrived at the castle; so he must be carrying it on him. Having played a lone hand successfully against murderers and bandits for so long it was heavy odds in favour of the General's being a most unscrupulous man. Once he learned that there was money to be had for the taking what was there to prevent him from having his prisoner shot and acquiring the cash without any risk to himself? Yet how else, except by taking this desperate chance, was there any hope of getting out of the castle?

Drawing a long breath Gregory said: "You were talking about valuta just now. If it could be arranged for me to try to reach Voroshilov I should want some Russian roubles. Make your own rate of exchange. I'm prepared to pay four times the normal value if you like in German or Finnish marks and I've got a big sum on me." He had played his ace, but for all he knew it might be the Ace of Spades the death card.

Chapter XXVIII

Gregory Gambles With Death

FOR a moment the Russian's face remained absolutely impassive, then he asked sharply: "How much have you got?"

"About six thousand five hundred marks."

"A nice sum." Kuporovitch eyes narrowed and he stared at Gregory with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Enough to keep you in moderate comfort in Paris for the best part of a year," Gregory said slowly.

The General did not reply. He stood up, walked to the door with a slightly unsteady gait and left the room without a word.

Gregory helped himself to another ration of sleivowitz. He was pretty tight himself but he had a head like a rock and was a very long way from passing out. As he might be dead within the next quarter of an hour he didn't feel that it would make very much difference if he got slightly tighter; but he could not keep himself from wondering why the General had left him. The most likely answer to that all important question was that he had gone down to the guard room to fetch a couple of soldiers. These Russians were quite used to shooting people without a trial. It was all in the day's work to them and they would think nothing of it if they were told to take a prisoner down to the castle execution chamber in the middle of the night; then good bye to Gregory Sallust.

`Well,' he thought, 'I haven't had a particularly short life and I have had an extremely gay one; and, after all, death is the greatest adventure upon which any man can set out!' He had been near death on too many occasions for the thought of it to worry him; but he was worried about Erika and the others. Those hectic nights that he had spent with her in Munich and Berlin had been very marvellous; but recently, since he had got his memory back, he had grown to feel a far deeper and more profound love for her. In his life he had known many women and it seemed hard that now he had found the one whose presence gave him such utter satisfaction and contentment their ways should be parted after a few brief weeks of happiness and worse that he should have to leave her as a prisoner, menaced by the grim prospect of being handed over to the Gestapo, which he could do nothing to avert.

The door opened again and the General came in alone. His gait was brisker and Gregory noticed that his hair was slightly damp. Evidently he had been to his room and poured a jug of cold water over his head to bring himself back to a complete state of sobriety before taking any decision. Such an act was typical of the man and Gregory did not yet allow himself to hope. It might be that the Russian wanted all his wits about him so as to trick his prisoner out of the money before he had him shot, in order that the execution squad should not see him take it from the body and report the fact to Oggie.

With a steady hand Kuporovitch collected the three empty sleivowitz bottles from the small table, replaced them on the sideboard and said abruptly: "Say I give you a quarter of the value of your marks in roubles, what d'you wish me to do?"

Gregory breathed again. Although he might have soiled his hands in all sorts of dirty business for nearly a quarter of a century, the Russian was, at the rock bottom, still the man of honour that he had been as a young officer in pre Revolution days.

"Since your Political Commissar is bound to hear about us to morrow," Gregory replied, "fix it so that it looks as if we had escaped during the night."

Kuporovitch shook his head. "Four of you including two women? No. Oggie would never believe that. Besides, only a strong and resolute man could leave the castle, even with my aid, in a way which would enable me to avoid all suspicion of complicity. The best I can do is to arrange matters so that it appears that you have escaped. My record is so good that no one will hold the escape of one prisoner against me; but your friends must remain and the report about them will have to go in to morrow morning through the usual channels. If you can reach Voroshilov within a week or ten days and get an order for your friend's release, with permission for all of you to leave the country, you'll have cheated the Gestapo. If not, your friends must take their chance."

Gregory was thinking swiftly. Nothing would have induced him to desert his friends in ordinary circumstances but if he could get away himself it would at least offer him some chance to save them; and above all there was the typescript. That must be put before everything. He nodded slowly.

"In that case it's imperative that I should get to Voroshilov's headquarters at the earliest possible moment. I can't speak Russian and I may have difficulty with the railway people. Are you willing to throw in a railway voucher for my journey, faked in any name you like?"

"Yes, I'll do that." The General moved towards the door again.

"All right. That's a deal, and I'm eternally grateful to you."

Gregory removed his boots and took out all his bank notes except five hundred German Reichmarks. The General was away about a quarter of an hour and when he returned he was carrying Gregory's furs as well as the railway voucher.

The money was changed and the voucher handed over. Kuporovitch said that he had made it out for a mythical Vassily Stetin and that it was signed by Imitroff, one of his clerks whose name he had forged; but as the man was in hospital even if the paper were ever traced the clerk could not be held responsible for its issue and it would be impossible to find out who had forged his signature.

Gregory drew on his furs and said: "I'll just go along and tell the others what I propose to do; so that they'll know what's happened to me and at least have something on which to pin their hopes during the coming week."

"Oh, no, you don't " The Russian shook his head. "Oggie will question them all to morrow and I'm not going to risk their giving anything away. They mustn't know that I've had any hand in this, or even that you've escaped until they learn it for themselves. That's why I collected your furs from your room on my way back from the office."

It was a bitter blow to Gregory that he had to leave without even being able to say good bye to Erika and the others but he saw the soundness of Kuporovitch's dictum.

"Very well," he said reluctantly. I'd better get off, then. But I shall want the Russian for 'railway station', in case I get lost in the town, and the name of the place at which I'm most likely to find Voroshilov."