As they came stealthily round the corner into the dim deserted open space, a two wheeled covered cart emerged from a turning opposite. Instead of proceeding through the square, its driver pulled up in front of a stone drinking trough.
'It's a market cart,' Sabine whispered. 'If only we could get its driver to take us across the bridge.'
'Market cart?' Gregory echoed. 'But today is Sunday. There wouldn't be a market on a Sunday.'
'Not of meat or fish; but some of the stalls open for a couple of hours to sell fresh vegetables and dairy produce.' As she spoke the horse began to drink from the trough. The elderly man who was driving the cart hitched the reins to a peg, climbed down, and went into the nearby urinal.
'Now's our chance!' muttered Gregory, and on tiptoes they ran towards the cart. The horse stopped drinking and looked up but, evidently used to this early morning routine of being left there for a few minutes by its master, it did not move. Quickly and as quietly as possible Gregory gave Sabine a leg up across the backboard of the cart, and followed her over it; then they crouched down under its hood. They did not see the driver return but, while they were still striving to quiet their hurried breathing after their dash to hide in the cart, it jolted into motion.
By peering between the flapping canvas curtains hanging from the back of the hood, Sabine was able to keep a check on the direction the cart was taking. It went at a quiet pace through the long Parade Platz, ambled down the hill below the Royal Palace and along the embankment, then across the Elizabeth Bridge.
Once over the bridge the cart had served their purpose. Soon afterwards, as it turned right on its way to the Market, it was held up for a minute by an early morning tram. Seizing the opportunity, they dropped quietly over its backboard, and hurried off down the nearest side turning that led away from the river.
There were now quite a few people about and had it been any day other than Sunday there would have been many more. Even as it was, several stared in open curiosity at the hurrying couple who were clad expensively yet looked as if they had just been dragged by their hair through a coal mine. Fortunately they had only three-quarter of a mile to go and two main boulevards to cross; so they succeeded in keeping well away from major crossroads where there were police, and arrived at the furrier's in the Kertesz Utcza just as a nearby church clock was striking, six.
A few yards from the entrance to the shop, a green painted door evidently led up to the flat above. Gregory pressed the bell beside it and, having heard it ring, they waited with such patience as they could muster while casting anxious glances up and down the street. Several minutes passed and no sound came from within the building so Gregory rang again. The shrill peal hardly ceased when the door was opened.
To Gregory's relief it was Levianski himself who answered it. His dark curly hair showed no signs of rumpling, but he was clad in a blue silk dressing gown and his eyes were a little bleary; so it was clear that they had roused him from sleep. As he took in Gregory's battered face his black eyes showed sudden fear and he made to close the door; but Gregory was too quick for him. Putting his foot in it, he said:
'Please don't shut us out. I'm Commandant Tavenier. We had a long talk together at the Cafe Mignon a little over a fortnight ago.'
Levianski slowly opened the door again, and nodded. 'Yes, I recognize you from your voice. I doubt if I would have otherwise. I thought you were a gangster who had just raided one of the night clubs and stolen those beautiful sables your companion is wearing and that you had come here to try to force me to buy them.'
Gregory gave a wry grin. 'For the past half-hour that's the very thing we feared that a policeman would think, if we ran into one. But please let us come in.'
Instead of moving aside, the furrier said doubtfully, 'It is obvious that you have got yourself into serious trouble. Are the police after you?'
'No. At the moment they believe us both to be dead. In the course of an hour or two when they fail to find our bodies they will realize that we are not; but there is no possible way in which they could get any idea that we have come here.'
'Very well then.' Levianski stepped back for them to enter a narrow hall, shut the door behind them, and asked, 'What has happened that you should be in such a shocking state, and be in danger of arrest by the police?'
Gregory knew that within a few hours the story of the Arrow Cross smoke bomb attack on the Tuzolto palace would be all over Budapest, and that Levianski could hardly fail to identify Sabine as the Baroness; but he saw no point in telling the furrier more about himself than he had already, or of the parts that Ribbentrop and Grauber had played, so he said:
'The Vichy police agent here got on to me and in collaboration with the Gestapo asked the Hungarian police to pull me in. But as the Baroness Tuzolto is a very old friend of mine she used her influence with the Regent temporarily to spike the Nazis' guns, and gave me asylum in her palace. We meant to drive to the frontier last night but the Germans held up the car and tried to kidnap us. That's how I got so knocked about. Then they got the Arrow Cross boys to try their hand at flushing us out with smoke bombs; but we got away through the caves that lie under Buda hill.'
Levianski nodded. 'And what do you plan to do now?'
'We have plenty of money on us and would like to buy a car to get away in. But we didn't dare to show ourselves at a garage in our present state; and, anyway, we are pretty well deadbeat. You were good enough to offer to help me, providing I didn't have the police on my track; so I've come to you. I was hoping that you would be willing to let us stay here for the day, so that we can get some sleep. Then if you could find us some second-hand clothes we'd be able to make a fresh start with a fair chance of reaching the frontier.'
Pinching his thick lower lip between his forefinger and thumb, the short square shouldered Jew remained thoughtful for a minute, then he said, 'You seem to have got completely clear for the moment; but, all the same, to let you stay is a risk, and I have to think of my family. Please to stay here for a little, while I consult my wife.'
Having pulled out a straight-backed wooden chair from beside the hallstand for Sabine, he gave a jerky bow and hurried off up the stairs. There was no other chair, so Gregory closed his eyes and leaned against the wall. Although he had spent most of Friday night in bed, during the past forty-eight hours he had had little more than four hours' proper sleep, so he was very, very tired; and what they were to do should Levianski refuse to let them stay there he could not think.
They were not kept waiting long, and when the furrier came downstairs again he was followed by a small, plump, bright-eyed woman of about thirty. She had hastily done her black hair up into a bun and put on a Persian lamb coat over her nightdress. He introduced her as his wife, and said:
'Huldah says the more trouble there is in the world the more we should try to help people who are in trouble; so you are welcome to stay here until you are well rested and can go on your way. But in a matter such as this we dare trust no one. We must take every precaution that your presence here does not become known to our employees or the neighbours; so we wish to conceal you from our two young sons. They are only six and eight, and children of that age cannot be trusted not to blurt out secrets. They might tell one of their little schoolfellows, or the woman who comes in on weekdays to help in the kitchen.'