'Oh hell! I thought you said she was at Fontainebleau?'
'She was. And it is virtually certain that she will return there tonight to collect her papers and valuables before moving south out of the new battle area, of which Fontainebleau will now automatically become a part; but this afternoon she did something which she has never done before—she came openly to the Ministry and demanded to see Reynaud in his office. At first de Gaulle made him refuse to see her, but no one dared to stop her and she forced her way into his room. She insisted on seeing Reynaud alone, but de Gaulle would not leave; and, as far as I know, they are still in conference. Those are the facts; I had them from de Gaulle's secretary, who left the room only after the Baroness had forced her way into it.'
Gregory had overestimated his strength when he left the hotel and he was now feeling desperately ill and weak again. 'I thought,' he said slowly, 'that the Baronne's affair with Reynaud was all over, long ago?'
'It is, I believe, many years since they were lovers but they have always remained close friends; and unfortunately she still has great influence with him.'
'God! That woman! How I wish I'd shot her in Rotterdam when I had the chance. If I can't manage to do something about it soon she'll hand us all over, bound hand and foot, to the Nazis. But can't you telephone—find out if there's anything fresh? To wait here like this is simply intolerable.'
Lacroix glanced at his watch. 'I should have been informed at once if any definite decision had been taken; but it's over an hour since I had the last report so I'll inquire how things are going.' He moved over to his telephone and asked for a number.
They waited in silence for a few moments while Gregory closed his eyes and mopped the perspiration from his forehead; then Lacroix made a series of meaningless ejaculations. Replacing the receiver he turned back to Gregory.
'They have just come out. De Gaulle remained in the room all the time but they persuaded him to stand by the window so that he was practically out of earshot. Five minutes ago Reynaud suddenly snatched up his hat and stick. He pushed the Baroness out of the room and exclaimed as he followed her: "De Gaulle, it will be the South after all—and this is final." '
Gregory roused himself and nodded. 'That, of course, means Bordeaux; so the Baroness wins once again. But I mean to see to it that she doesn't live to enjoy her triumph.'
'You are determined to go down to Fontainebleau tonight, then?'
'Yes. What's the name of her house?"
'It is the Pavilion de Chasse, Mirabeau, and you will find it deep in the forest, down a side-turning to the right of the main road, some three miles this side of Fontainebleau.'
The Colonel paused for a moment. Gregory felt positively deathly. There seemed to be a great weight on his chest and he could no longer see clearly, but he heard Lacroix go on:
'Since you are set on making this attempt let us derive all the benefit possible from it. Whatever may be the outcome of the present battle, you may take it that there are many men like General de Gaulle and myself who will fight on. Among the Baroness's papers there must be many letters and other documents which will inform us whom we can, and whom we cannot, trust. Those papers must already be packed for removal; if you can secure them you will have rendered us a service of the utmost importance.'
Gregory mopped his head again. 'All right,' he said; 'I'll go now—I—I. . ..' As he stood up the room seemed to sway about him. He rocked unsteadily for a moment then crashed to the floor, unconscious.
CHAPTER 24
Death in the Sunshine
As he knelt down beside the still body the little Colonel sadly shook his head. He knew that Madame la Baronne Noire was not destined to die by Gregory's hand that night and he felt that it might be many days—vital days—before Gregory was again fit to strike a blow at the enemy. Standing up, he rang his bell, and when it was answered, gave swift instructions for Gregory's removal in a police ambulance to his hotel.
Gregory came out of his faint before they reached the Saint Regis and by the time he was carried up to his room he had recovered sufficiently, in spite of his anger with himself at his own weakness, to be faintly amused at the reception accorded him by his pretty nurse.
'Mechant, mechant!' she upbraided him, wagging a slim finger in his face before proceeding to help him back to bed. 'What children men are! They think there is no limit to their strength, and that however ill they are the world will cease to turn if for one moment they must give up the new games with which they amuse themselves when they are too old any longer to play with their lead soldiers and their model aeroplanes. If women ruled the world your nasty dangerous toys would be taken from you for good and all, then there would be some peace and happiness for a change.'
For a moment Gregory wondered if there was not a great fundamental truth in what she said. Women ask very little of life except a mate and security in which to bring up their offspring. It is men who are the dreamers for good or ill, and for every outstanding male who lifts the human race by some great scientific or artistic achievement there is always an Attila, a Napoleon or a Hitler whose visions lead him to inflict untold misery upon his fellow-men. Perhaps, he thought, it would be better if, like the ants or bees, the human race were content to Jive under a matriarchy, where there was no progress, no ambition, but work and food for all; yet somehow he could not believe that, because if one rejected all hope of advancement as the price of permanent peace it meant the death of the spirit, by the possession of which alone man differs from the insects and the animals.
He slept well and woke the following morning still weak but better and with the knowledge that work lay before him which must be done.
Even with dissension rife among France's War Cabinet and a defeatist spirit in the very person of her Commander-in-Chief, that spirit had not yet spread to her junior Generals, her regimental officers or her soldiers, who were still fighting gamely; so France might yet be saved.
Reynaud had given in to the Baroness on the previous afternoon, but only after many days of constant pressure from her associates. It was quite on the cards that he might change his mind once again when the Government was removed from the atmosphere of Paris, which was now flooded with the defeatism brought by a million refugees from France's northern provinces. It needed only a slight weakening of the German effort --which by all reasoning was already overdue—a small counter-offensive launched with success in some sector by a Corps Commander, or even a Divisional General, to make the fighting spirit of de Gaulle once again paramount in the counsels of the wavering Premier; but as long as the Black Baroness lived she was a constant menace to any such last-moment recovery. She had to die, and it was Gregory's business to bring about her death.
After he had breakfasted he told Sister Madeleine quietly but firmly that his good night's rest had really given him the strength to carry on, this time, and that he meant to get up; but he was not destined to do so. With a superior air she lifted the receiver of his bedside telephone and asked for the agent de ville to be sent up.
'Come, come,' Gregory laughed. 'The law doesn't give you power to keep a sick man in bed against his will, so it's no good sending for the police.'