This news amazed and appalled him. It had seemed so obvious that the German forces in Sicily would withdraw to great natural bastion of Mount Etna on the north-east corner of the island and that, although they could be boxed there, it would take many weeks, or even months, before they could be finally subdued; so the enemy would have all that time to bring up reinforcements and prepare defensive positions across the straits in the south of Italy. And eight weeks had elapsed between the first landing in Sicily and this on the mainland. That meant for certain that the Allies must meet with fierce opposition and could have little hope of making a swift deep penetration, as could have been the case had they landed further north.
Four or five days after the Allies had crossed the Straits of Messing the Italians had broadcast an announcement that they had signed an armistice. At first it looked as if the Italian surrender would make the occupation of the country comparatively easy. But that had not proved at all the case. Instead of withdrawing the Germans had continued to hold the strong defensive positions they had prepared, and had found little difficulty in tying down Montgomery’s invading troops in the toe of the peninsula.
A few days later, the Germans had made themselves masters of Rome, then, by a brilliant exploit, snatched Mussolini in an aircraft from a high plateau on which he had been held prisoner and set him up as the head of a new Fascist Government in the north, on Lake Garda.
Belatedly, the Allies had attempted to outflank the Germans in the south by a landing at Salerno, but had failed to achieve their object. Kesselring had reacted with amazing speed and not only hemmed in their new bridgehead but looked like driving them back into the sea. Their fate still hung in the balance; and Gregory could only pray that this ill-conceived campaign-moo different from any of the proposals put forward by the British Joint Planning Staff early that year-would not bring a series of bloodbaths and disasters to the Allied Armies.
For three days Malacou continued to come each morning and dress his wound, while he remained in oblivion. On the fourth, soon after waking, he got a strong impression that the doctor would not come in the morning but in the afternoon; and that proved to be the case. When he remarked on it, Malacou smiled and said:
`This is excellent. My delay in coming to you was deliberate. I sent out that thought and you received it.'
At that Gregory felt slight alarm and replied quickly, `If my allowing you to hypnotize me is going to lead to your dominating my mind I'd prefer to put up with the pain.'
Malacou shook his head. `The transference of thoughts between two people does not lead to one dominating the other. It is an equal partnership. To prove that, I suggest that now we have achieved some small degree of rapport you should try to convey a thought to me. Tomorrow I will not come to you until you send for me.'
Gregory agreed to try out this intriguing experiment and, sure enough, having waited until midday next day, when he had been concentrating hard for some ten minutes on willing the doctor to come to him, Malacou, smiling with satisfaction, appeared.
Sitting down, he said, `I will tell you now why I am anxious that we should develop telepathy between us. The stars, as I told you some while ago, foretell that at some future time we shall again work together against the accursed Nazis. When that time comes, being able to communicate our thoughts to one another while at a distance could prove of inestimable value.'
It was impossible to dispute the immense benefit that two secret agents would derive from such an unusual advantage so, after a moment's thought, Gregory said that he was willing: to practise tuning his mind in to Malacou's. They then agreed that Gregory should memorize and transfer to the doctor certain passages from the books he was reading and that in future the doctor should endeavour to convey the radio bulletins to him by telepathy.
During the week that followed they had numerous failures, some partial successes and sufficient complete transferences to encourage them. Towards the end of the week it was clear that the rapport between them had become much stronger. Through it Gregory learned that the Germans were no longer boasting that they would annihilate the Allied force that had been clinging to the beachhead at Salerno; but, as against that, they had captured Rhodes, and as long as they held that bastion adjacent to the Turkish coast it was clear that Churchill's hope of bringing Turkey into the war on the side of the Allies must remain frustrated.
Gregory regarded that development as a major set-back, but towards the end of the month Malacou predicted that events would soon take a turn in favour of the Allies; and he proved correct. The Russians again surged forward and captured Smolensk; then on October 2nd the Germans admitted that their forces in Italy had made a `strategic' withdrawal and allowed the American Fifth Army to enter Naples.
It was on the following day that Gregory said to Malacou, `I've no wish that this game we are playing should lead to my prying into your private affairs, but yesterday when I first established rapport with you I got the impression that you were worrying about Khurrem. It's some days since she has paid me a visit. Is she, by any chance, ill?
'No; but you were right,' Malacou replied gravely. `I am greatly worried about her. As you may recall, Herman Hauff's wife was found dead the night after the raid on Peenemunde. That is now six weeks ago, and he has asked Khurrem to marry him.'
`I see,' said Gregory thoughtfully. `It's a pity that he is a Nazi; and, perhaps, a wife-murderer into the bargain. In the circumstances her dislike of the idea of taking him for a husband is very understandable. But to marry again is just what she needs to pull her together.'
Malacou rounded on him with blazing eyes and cried, `My daughter is everything to me. I'd rather see her dead first.'
A little startled by the doctor's outburst, Gregory said no more; but as the days went by he sensed that Malacou was becoming increasingly uneasy. However, towards the middle of October it transpired that it was not only about Khurrem's situation that he was worrying. After he had treated Gregory on the 15th he said
`For some days I have been greatly concerned by new portents that have arisen. I feel convinced that some revolutionary change is shortly to occur in your situation. It will not be harmful to you; but a new influence that is extremely potent is about to make itself felt here and it will be adverse to the rapport we have succeeded in establishing between us.'
More he could not say and Gregory's speculations got him nowhere; but very early on the morning of the 17th the prediction was fulfilled in a manner that he could not possibly have anticipated. While it was still dark he awoke to find Malacou bending over him. In a hoarse voice the occultist said
`The stars never lie. Kuporovitch has returned. He has dyed his hair black, thinned out his eyebrows and grown a moustache; so for a moment I did not recognize him. He comes from Sweden and with him he has brought a surgeon and a nurse.'
Gregory's mind flamed with sudden hope. `You mean… you mean to operate on me and put my leg right?
'That is what they hope to do, but it is not possible to assess the chances until the doctor has examined you.'
`Then bring him up, man! Bring him up so that he can have a look at my leg.'