me with distress. The tree-trunk that struck you down fractured your left thigh and it is a compound fracture. He thinks that there is little chance of your regaining the full use of that leg until after, Christmas.'
Gregory gave a heavy sigh. `I suppose I'm lucky to be alive; and that I am is certainly due to your courage and loyalty, Stefan. But Christmas is four months off; so you mustn't remain here all that time. Malacou will look after me; so you've no need to worry that you won't be leaving me in good hands. You must return-to England and give them the good news of what our bombers did to Peenemьnde:
Kuporovitch laughed. `You are becoming delirious again, dear friend. Reconnaissance 'planes will tell them that better than I could; and wild horses could not drag me from your side. Come now, it is time for me to give you another injection and so relieve your pain.'
It was their first long conversation and it had taken a lot out of Gregory. For some days past the acute pain that had caused him to groan with every movement had subsided to a dull ache, but it was nagging at him badly now, so he submitted without argument.
The next day Malacou came up to see him during one of his spells of full consciousness. For a while they talked of the raid and the events that had followed it. Then Gregory asked the doctor about his prospects.
Malacou replied gravely, `Your leg was completely crushed; so it will be a long time before you can get about again. Most fortunately there was no indication of gangrene setting in, so the question of trying to save your life by amputation did not arise. You are over the worst now and should soon be able to consider yourself convalescent. But you must be very patient and put your faith in me.
`Owing to my studies of the Microcosm, the human body is, to me, an open book. I need no X-rays to inform me of the exact extent of your injuries; and how, in relation to the Macrocosm, the most favourable influences may be brought to bear on their alleviation. Each part of the body comes under the influence of one of the signs of the Zodiac. The thighs are the province of Sagittarius the Archer-and by correlating
the hours in which I treat you with those when that sign is in the ascendant we shall ensure your full recovery.
`But I must warn you of one thing. I have never practised more than minor surgery, so I could not undertake to operate upon you. Yet there is no way of restoring your leg to near normal except by an operation. It would, too, have to be a major one, as your femur is fractured in several places. It should be reset by an expert and strengthened with plating; but, placed as we are, there is no competent surgeon whom I could call in without the certainty that it would lead to you and all of us being arrested by the Gestapo.'
Having contemplated this most unpleasant piece of information for a few seconds, Gregory asked, `When my leg has healed will it hamper me very much in getting about?' `I fear it will. For many weeks it will bear no weight; so you will have to use crutches. Later, well…' Malacou sighed,… it would be no kindness to give you false hopes about the future. You will always have a limp-and a bad one. Your left leg will be three or four inches shorter than your right. Still worse, it will be twisted with the knee turned a little outward. These distortions will, in due course, affect your spine, so that when standing up you will be bent forward and sideways.'
Gregory gave a sudden bitter laugh. `So I'm to become a human crab, eh?'
The doctor nodded. `I'll not dispute your comparison. But, remember, you are very lucky to be alive.'
`So I gather. And I certainly agree that to call in a German sawbones would be asking for all of us to be lined up opposite firing-squad-or worse. Well, there it is. I suppose I'll have make up my mind to becoming an unsightly cripple.' They fell silent for a moment, then Malacou said, `One other thing. For the past eleven days I've been drugging you very heavily so that you should remain unconscious when I dressed your wound. But now you are over the worst I must reduce the size of the injections. That means I shall have to cause you considerable suffering; unless, that is, you are willing agree to my putting you under hypnosis.'
Gregory considered the suggestion for a moment, then he shook his head… `Thanks, Doctor, but I've always had a prejudice against surrendering my will to anyone, so I think I'll put up with the pain.'
Malacou shrugged. `Just as you wish. But think it over. Hypnosis is now recognized by the medical profession as perfectly legitimate treatment; and the less you suffer the quicker your recovery will be. You can always change your mind.'
Kuporovitch rarely left Gregory's side and had stood silently by listening to the conversation. When the doctor had gone the Russian did his best to console his friend for the sentence that had been passed upon him. But there was little he could say to lighten Gregory's gloom.
On the three days that followed the injections were reduced; so that on the fourth, when Malacou dressed Gregory's wound, he was not fully under. With the further reduction of the drug he remained conscious through those gruelling sessions, and woke each day to spend hours dreading them. But in other respects he steadily gained ground. The hunchback Tarik was an excellent- cook and, tempted by the attractive little dishes he produced, Gregory's appetite greatly improved. He also became able to talk without each breath he drew hurting and, for short periods, he managed to take his mind off his wretched situation by reading for a while books that the doctor brought him.
It was on September 7th that Kuporovitch sprang a sudden unwelcome surprise on him… That evening the Russian said, `Dear friend, I have been thinking. Now that three weeks have elapsed since your calamity there is no longer any fear of your having a relapse. While your life was in danger you know well that nothing would have induced me to leave you. But you will have to remain here for a long time yet. You are safe here and well looked after. Others will perform for you the small services that are all you now require; so would you think very badly of me if I attempted to make my way home?
'Of course not, Stefan,' Gregory replied, endeavouring to force a smile. 'No-one could have a more loyal friend. Had you not stuck to me on that ghastly night I'd be a rotting corpse by now. The hunchback will do all the chores that you've been doing and I've lots to read. Naturally, I’ll miss you terribly; but it would be absurd for you to remain here kicking your heels for another three months or more. Of course you must go home. In a way I'm glad you have decided to, because it's three weeks since we've been able to communicate with London, and Erika and Madeleine, not to mention dear old Pellinore, must be getting very worried about not hearing from us. Have you thought of any plan yet for getting out of this damned country?
'No,' Kuporovitch shook his head, `I wished to obtain your agreement first; then I thought we might talk it over with. Malacou.'
`You're right… He's a wily old bird. I'm sure he will produce some good ideas that will help you to evade trouble on your journey.'
For some while they discussed the project, then Kuporovitch settled Gregory down for the night, undressed and got into the bed that had been fixed up for him in one corner of the room.
Now that Gregory was being given only a sedative at night, when its first effect had worn off he was subject to long periods of wakefulness. That night he lay awake for hours, thinking of Kuporovitch's imminent departure. He knew well enough that it was quite one thing to display high courage, exceptional endurance and devotion to a comrade during periods of emergency; and quite another to continue for weeks on end, cooped up, bored to tears and sticking it only because that seemed to be the right thing to do. So he felt that he could not blame his friend for leaving him, but he knew that when the lovable and ever-cheerful Russian had gone a desperate loneliness would be added to his other miseries.