The Pursuit
The campsite was deserted. A colored kerchief caught in the branches of a tree, a mouth organ forgotten in the grass were the only signs that a few hours ago children had stayed here and been happy. Soon workmen would come and surround the site with barbed wire — the tents were going to house soldiers of the occupying army.
In the cathedral the king’s body lay in state, ready for burial.
So everything was going according to plan. Yet in his room in the German consulate, Colonel Stiefelbreich paced the floor, angry and frustrated. His thoughts were on one thing and one thing only.
Where was the prince?
Every nook and cranny in the palace had been gone over; the king’s aunts — tiresome women who would have to be sent to a convent to get them out of the way — had been questioned. The mountain hut of the king’s old nurse had been searched, and every stick and stone of the surrounding countryside had been scoured. On the hill, the bloodhounds had drawn a blank.
This meant trouble for Stiefelbreich. He was supposed to hand the prince over to his superiors as soon as they entered Bergania — failure to do so would have serious consequences. A radio message had just come through from the commandant at Colditz to say that everything was ready to receive the prince. A cell had been prepared for him in the High Security Block, the commandant had said. Not that it mattered whether it was a high-security block or not — the whole of Colditz was high security. No one had escaped from that doomed fortress and lived to tell the tale. Stiefelbreich picked up the telephone.
Earless and Theophilus were resting in their room after their all-night search. They were not pleased with the accommodation they had been given above the consulate garages. Theophilus was worried about the effect of the fumes from the cars on his lungs and was spraying disinfectant up his nose.
Earless was sitting on his bed, which sagged under his weight, and worrying about Belinda. There was a man who served in the corner shop at the bottom of their street at home who smiled at Belinda in a way which Earless did not like. He thought of writing to Belinda and warning her, but reading and writing were very difficult for him and as so often before he thought how different things would be if he still had his other ear. The man in the corner shop wouldn’t have had a chance if Earless had both his ears.
But when they heard that Stiefelbreich wanted them, both men cheered up. There is nothing like work for taking your mind off your troubles.
“Tell me again exactly what happened with the bloodhounds,” he said when the men stood before him.
“They followed the scent easily enough into the hunting ground, up to that lodge by the gates, but then they started going all over the place, running down the hill and coming back. But that’s not surprising — there was a whole stampede of kids up there last night,” said Theophilus.
“Exactly,” said Stiefelbreich, rubbing his chin. “So I think we must face the fact that the prince may have been among them, that somehow he has sneaked out of the country with the children that left on the train this morning. He can’t have gone on his own — the passes have all been watched and the roads checked. And if so, it’s likely that he might be trying to get to Great Britain — after all, his mother was British.”
“So we’d be looking out for that man the king spoke to in the square perhaps,” said Theophilus.
Stiefelbreich nodded. “Or that woman who looked after him. Mind you, she still thought the boy was here when we put her on the train, so she didn’t know anything then. But the main thing is that you must leave at once.”
“Trouble is, they’ve got a good start on us, on that train,” said Earless.
Stiefelbreich shook his head. “I’ll let you have one of the consulate cars — a Mercedes. The train will go slowly — everything’s disrupted; we’ve seen to that, and it stops altogether in Switzerland. But he mustn’t get away. If he reaches the Channel and gets over to England, we’ve lost him. The Führer doesn’t want any trouble with the British government — or the Americans.”
“And if we find him—” began Theophilus.
“Not if,” snapped the colonel. “When.”
“When we find him,” said Theophilus, “do you want him brought back here?”
Stiefelbreich shook his head. “You’ll be in radio contact with the SS patrols; they’ll take him straight to Colditz. As soon as you have the prince, arrange with them to hand him over. You’ll get your bonuses just the same.”
But Theophilus had one more question: “If there’s any difficulty… there might be a struggle perhaps… I take it you want the boy alive?”
“Certainly we want him alive,” snapped Stiefelbreich. “Unless…” He walked over to the window and stood looking out. “He mustn’t get across the Channel,” he said. “But yes, if possible, we want him alive.”
Left alone again, Stiefelbreich sent a message to the commandant at Colditz.
“Expect prisoner hourly. Inform time of arrival,” it said, and it was signed with his code name, which was Iron Fist. It was a good name, thought Stiefelbreich; he had chosen it himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The Berganian Mountain Cat
The train was traveling more slowly now. The stops grew more frequent; convoys of army trucks passed on the road. The time for Bergania to be “protected” by the brave soldiers of the German Reich was coming very close.
In their compartment the children waited anxiously. The ordeal that faced them was not far away now. At the border with Switzerland there was a checkpoint where passports and permits were examined. The Deldertonians were traveling on a group passport. It contained photographs of Matteo and Magda; the rest were mentioned only by name: four girls, four boys…
Only now there were four girls and five boys. Somehow they would have to lose a boy or confuse the customs officials and persuade them that the numbers were right.
As the train reached the beginning of the Altheimer Pass, which crossed the last mountain range into Switzerland, it stopped in a final sort of way and the guard came down the corridor and said everyone was to get out. The rest of the journey was to be completed by bus.
Everyone grabbed their belongings and piled out of the train. At the other end of the platform, keeping her back to them, they saw the Countess Frederica standing with the other first-class passengers.
They waited for nearly an hour and then three buses appeared labeled ZURICH. The first-class passengers were led to one of them, the children scrambled into the others and they set off.
The pass was dramatically beautiful; the bus climbed and snaked and climbed again. The land below them was neutral and safe as it had been for centuries. Switzerland had kept out of the last war; it had given sanctuary to thousands of refugees in the centuries that had gone by. It wasn’t just chocolate and cuckoo clocks and cheese that the Swiss were famous for, but safety and peace.
Then as they approached the top of the pass the buses drew into a lay-by and stopped. The drivers got out and stretched and lit cigarettes. They seemed to be waiting for orders.
Inside the bus, Matteo suddenly spoke. “Out,” he said. “All the Deldertonians out. Quick.”
The children stood up. This was how their biology lessons began — with Matteo ordering them out. Matteo strung his binoculars around his neck and said a few words to the driver, who shrugged and turned back to his colleagues. Then he turned to the children.
“We’re going up the path to that rocky ledge. No one must make a sound.”
“What is it?” whispered Barney.