Wallace Intervenes

by Alexander Wilson

  The man in control made a perfect landing, bringing the great machine to a halt a few yards from Colonel Schönewald’s car. Wallace stepped out, and was just in time to catch the look of hope in Marlene Heckler’s face before it changed to an expression of intense mortification. Apparently she had thought for the moment that by some means, the tables had been turned; that von Strom had succeeded in escaping from his ignominious position, had come to rescue her and Schönewald, and recapture the baroness. But those steel-grey eyes soon undeceived her. She groaned aloud. Sir Leonard smiled, and bowed ironically.

  ‘Sorry to disappoint you, fraulein,’ he drawled. Then his manner and voice became sharp, incisive. ‘There is no time to waste,’ he snapped. ‘Cousins, search the pilot for weapons, and disarm him if necessary. Foster, do the same to the driver of this car. Colonel Schönewald and Fraulein Heckler, I beg you to remain exactly as you are. I have you covered, and I should hate any indiscreet movement on your part to cause an unfortunate accident. Baroness, Fraulein Reinwald, and you, Hanni, enter the aeroplane. Be as quick as you can!’

  The three women obeyed almost in a state of stupor. The arrival of the machine had filled each heart with foreboding and dismay, which had given place to a wonderful sense of relief. There seemed no end to the resource of this amazing Englishman. It was little wonder, therefore, that the two women, who had undergone so much, and the maid who had suffered very nearly as acutely, should feel rather stupefied by his arrival in one of Germany’s very latest air liners, and order them to enter.

  The gloves were now off with a vengeance. The driver of Schönewald’s car and the pilot of the aeroplane were probably the most astonished men in Germany at that moment. For some time they could only sit and gasp, the one at Cousins, the gaze of the other alternating ludicrously between Foster and the man he had believed to be the Supreme Marshal of Germany. The thought that Marlene Heckler might be armed prompted Wallace to recall Hanni from the aeroplane and order her to search the woman. It was well he did so. Marlene carried a deadly little automatic in her handbag; there was nothing concealed on her person. The pilot was commanded to descend from the air liner. He was unarmed, but several weapons and ammunition, of which Cousins took possession, were found in a locker in the large and admirably fitted cockpit.

  ‘I am borrowing this plane and you,’ Sir Leonard told the airman, ‘to take my friends and me to England. You have gathered by now that I am not the Supreme Marshal. Any attempt on your part to draw unwelcome attention to us or frustrate my designs will only end unfortunately – for you. Both of these gentlemen,’ he indicated Foster and Cousins, ‘have pilots’ certificates and are capable of assuming control. I am taking you with us principally to bring back the machine from England. You will see, therefore, that any attempt to trick us will merely result in your being superseded. No harm will come to you so long as you do what you are told.’

  The man was far too amazed to do anything else but stare with wide-open, startled eyes at the speaker. He was ordered to climb back into the aeroplane, Cousins accompanied him, and took the seat at his side, holding his revolver pointed suggestively and in business-like manner at him. Sir Leonard was not satisfied, however. He felt they were too much at the pilot’s mercy. It would be so easy for the man to crash the plane while taking off. He would be quite likely to risk a bullet or his own death in the accident to frustrate the attempt at escape from Germany of people who, though he was unaware of the real facts, were obviously ‘wanted’. The Chief of the British Secret Service called Foster to him.

  ‘Do you think you can take control of that bus?’ he asked in his own language.

  Foster grinned.

  ‘I have never handled anything like her, sir,’ he announced cheerfully, ‘but I’m willing to try.’

  Sir Leonard sighed.

  ‘It seems to me you will be the lesser of two evils,’ he commented dryly. ‘Go ahead, and take charge. Tell Cousins to remove his man into the saloon. Once you get her into the air, you should be all right. For heaven’s sake don’t crash us taking off; that’s all I ask. Make sure there is plenty of petrol.’

  Foster went confidently about his job. He appeared to have little doubt of his ability to manage the huge machine. In a few moments the four engines were running smoothly and, after a careful inspection, he was able to announce the good news that there was plenty of petrol and oil to take them comfortably to England. Sir Leonard had managed to convey unnoticed instruction to Reichmann to go quietly away, remove his disguise, and find his way, as best he could, back to Berlin. He waited until the guide had disappeared, and had had time to place himself in a position of safety, where he would be secure from any possibility of the car containing Schönewald and Marlene Heckler coming upon him, then turned to the two.

  ‘You are at liberty to depart now,’ he declared in German. ‘I regret that circumstances compelled me to hold you prisoners.’

  ‘You will regret more than that,’ cried Marlene, her eyes flashing fiercely. ‘You will regret many things.’

  ‘You have said something of the same nature before,’ he retorted. ‘Come, come, fraulein! This sort of thing is all in our job. Why should you resent being outwitted. I would not have been vindictive if you had beaten us. Be a sport!’

  ‘You talk as though we were playing a game,’ she snapped. ‘It is not a question of sport.’

  ‘On the contrary it is. We have been playing a game – a big game perhaps; nevertheless, a game – and I have won. Perhaps we may someday be opponents in another.’

  ‘That time you will not win. What have you done to His Excellency?’

  ‘I sent the car back to his residence. He will be waiting – still in his trunk – for Colonel Schönewald to free him. Here are the keys, Colonel.’ He tossed them to the Nazi officer. ‘You had better get back as soon as possible. The day is growing very warm, and he will not be happy.’

  She cried out in great anger. Schönewald, who was nearer to Sir Leonard, regarded him sternly, but the eyelid which Marlene could not see, dropped in a rapid wink.

  ‘If you think you can escape,’ growled the young man, ‘you are a fool. Within half an hour squadrons of airplanes will be up to cut you off. Their orders will be to bring you down irrespective of the fact that you have a German airman on board.’

  ‘How kind that will be,’ commented Sir Leonard.

  ‘Kindness does not come into the matter,’ retorted Schönewald, purposely ignoring the sarcasm.

  ‘Fly north-west – Denmark,’ his lips framed in English.

  Wallace nodded almost imperceptibly. He understood the warning. Schönewald would do his best to see that the pursuing or obstructing aeroplanes would block the way to the Netherlands, the route which the escaping Englishman would be expected to take.

  ‘There certainly seems to be little of the milk of human kindness in Germany,’ drawled the Chief of the British Secret Service.

  Schönewald snapped an order to his driver. In a few minutes the touring car had passed rapidly out of sight. Sir Leonard entered the aeroplane to find the pilot sitting moodily by the side of Cousins. The expression of chagrin in his eyes caused the chief to reflect that he had been wise in ordering Foster, despite his inexperience, to take control. The baroness, Dora, and Hanni looked thoroughly happy. They, at least, were convinced that their troubles were over.

  There were a few breathless seconds as the great air liner took off. She lurched in drunken fashion as she left the ground and commenced to climb, whilst flying in a semi-stalled condition. It seemed that she was about to crash, as she missed the top of a tree by inches. A moment later, however, she was soaring into the sky beautifully. Foster had quickly remedied the initial faults caused by his lack of experience in piloting a large, four-engine machine. Sir Leonard and Cousins looked at each other, and smiled their relief.

  ‘“She spread her wings in glorious pride,”’ quoted the latter. ‘“And straight to Heaven seem’d to glide.” Now for England, home and –
er – safety.’

  ‘Thank God for England, and – and for you two wonderful men,’ came earnestly from the baroness.

  ‘I am terribly sorry,’ remarked Sir Leonard hurriedly, ‘that I have nothing to offer you ladies to eat. You must be famished.’

  The baroness stared at him, then laughed softly.

  ‘Fancy thinking of food at a moment like this!’ she exclaimed.

  ‘We had coffee and rolls offered us,’ put in Dora calmly, ‘before we were led out to have our heads chopped off. Neither of us indulged, though.’

  ‘Don’t, Dora!’ cried Sophie, and shuddered. ‘I am trying to forget.’

  Wallace joined Foster in the cockpit, and gave him instructions to fly high and set a north-easterly course. That young man was rapidly becoming at home and was thoroughly enjoying himself.

  ‘It’s as easy as flying a Puss Moth, sir,’ he confided.

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ smiled Sir Leonard. ‘I hope you get us down as well as you got us up.’

  Travelling at a height of ten thousand feet and at a speed of close on a hundred and fifty miles an hour, the magnificent aeroplane made stimulating progress towards Denmark. Sir Leonard entered the small, perfectly fitted lavatory, and leisurely removed his disguise. When he emerged his real self for the first time since leaving England, though still, of course, wearing von Strom’s clothing, Hanni greeted his appearance with a cry of alarm. It took her some time to realise that he was the man who had been so wonderfully disguised as the Supreme Marshal. Dora Reinwald had fallen asleep, the Baroness von Reudath had joined her lover in the cockpit. Thither Wallace went, and she gave a little gasp as she recognised him.

  ‘You have become yourself,’ she exclaimed. ‘I am glad. You were so absolutely the Supreme Marshal before that, every time I looked at you my heart jumped painfully with fear.’

  ‘I don’t think fear would ever enter that gallant heart of yours, Baroness,’ he responded. ‘But how is it you know me?’

  ‘You were pointed out to me in London,’ she told him. ‘Oh, Sir Leonard, how can I ever thank you for—’

  ‘Please don’t try,’ he implored hastily, adding, in a desperate effort to get away from an embarrassing subject: ‘I wonder what that town is down there.’

  ‘Haven’t the vaguest idea, sir,’ remarked Foster cheerfully, ‘but it won’t be long before we touch the south-east corner of Denmark. There’s the sea on the horizon to our left.’

  Visibility was extremely good and, flying at such a height, their range of vision was immense. After shading his eyes, and looking keenly in the direction indicated, Sir Leonard agreed that his assistant was right. It was at that moment that he became aware of three aeroplanes flying in formation a couple of thousand feet below, but apparently ascending rapidly towards them. He decided at once that their object was to cut off the air liner. Schönewald’s efforts on their behalf had not altogether succeeded. The squadron had probably been sent from Hamburg, and Hamburg, therefore, must have been warned. The very visibility which had enabled them to glimpse the sea had also permitted the watchers to spot the escaping air liner. His lips came together in a tight line, but, when he spoke, his voice was calm, almost casual.

  ‘There is going to be a little excitement,’ he remarked, indicating the rapidly approaching squadron below them on the port side. ‘You’ll have to get every ounce of speed you can out of this bus, Foster, even if you run us out of petrol in the effort.’

  The baroness paled as the significance of his remark and the three aeroplanes dawned on her. Foster grinned happily, his eyes dancing with excitement. He, apparently, was quite convinced of their ability to escape from the German airmen. The needle of the indicator rose until it was pointing at two hundred miles an hour. The aeroplane vibrated tremendously, and all within were being unmercifully shaken. Sensing that something was wrong, Cousins and his captive glanced out of one of the port windows; became at once immensely interested as they saw the three planes, now, beyond doubt, flying rapidly to cut them off. Hanni crouched in her seat in terror. Flying held no joys for her. Dora was shaken into wakefulness, and staggered to the cockpit. Sir Leonard felt her behind him, and looked round. At sight of his face she started.

  ‘Who are you,’ she queried in astonishment, ‘and where did you get on?’

  ‘My name is Wallace – Sir Leonard Wallace at your service, fraulein,’ he smiled.

  ‘Oh!’ she exclaimed, and added in her usual calm drawl, ‘How you have changed! Are we going to have a battle or something?’

  ‘Not if I can help it,’ was the reply. ‘They’ll be right ahead of us in two or three minutes,’ he went on to Foster. ‘When I give the word, go into a nosedive.’

  The German aeroplanes rapidly came on, their course taking them in a line that was calculated to bring them directly in front of the air liner. Presently they were so close that the fugitives could see their pilots, looking, in their flying helmets and huge goggles, like grotesque creatures from another world. They also saw the machine guns with the men sitting grimly behind each. Cousin’s captive paled. He realised at that moment that he was to be offered up as a sacrifice by command of the German authorities in order that the others might be destroyed.

  ‘Are we to do any shooting, sir?’ asked Cousins.

  ‘No; of course not,’ snapped Wallace then, ‘Hold tight, everybody! Now, Foster!’

  At the moment that the German squadron reached the same level, and were little more than fifty yards away, the command came to be immediately obeyed. The huge machine nosedived, descending sickeningly, like a rocket, beneath the others. In a few seconds it was a couple of thousand feet below them, and Sir Leonard ordered his young pilot to flatten out and go ahead. All the time his eyes were searching anxiously for other aeroplanes bent on the same mission as the squadron they had eluded, but to his relief, there were none. The nosedive had shaken the passengers considerably. Dora, who had retreated to the saloon at a word from Sir Leonard, had been torn from her grip and had fallen, bringing down the German pilot. Sophie would have slipped from her seat had not Wallace gripped her. Hanni had managed to retain her seat, but her face had turned green and she clasped a hand now tightly over her abdomen.

  A desperate chase ensued, but the giant air liner, admirably controlled by Foster, succeeded in holding her own, the squadron, now frantically pursuing her, being unable to gain on her sufficiently to catch her up and disable her before she crossed the frontier. There was a general sigh of relief, even the German signifying his satisfaction, when Sir Leonard declared that they were over the border. A minute later Cousins, who had been keeping an anxious watch, strode into the cockpit to announce that the pursuing squadron had turned back.

  The remainder of the journey was uneventful. Sir Leonard was rather exercised in his mind concerning the spot in England at which to land. To bring the machine to rest in a military aerodrome was out of the question – such an act would be likely to cause too many complications. To land in a civil airport would be almost as inconvenient; in addition it would give rise to endless conjectures, curiosity, and embarrassment. However, the problem was solved for him. They were approaching the coast of Essex when the petrol began to give out. Wallace sought for and found a long stretch of turf that looked safe and convenient. He ordered Foster to land there. The machine glided down beautifully. The acting pilot could not be said to have made a perfect landing. He bumped rather badly two or three times before the wheels were firmly on the ground. For one moment of suspense they all felt the great aeroplane was going over on her nose, but she righted herself, and came to rest within a few feet of a cattle pond.

  ‘Well, that’s that,’ exulted Foster. ‘I’ve brought you back in style.’

  ‘There is style and style,’ commented Cousins caustically. ‘You’re a lucky young devil, Bernard.’

  ‘Lucky be hanged. You wouldn’t have handled her with such skill.’

  ‘Not if you call your performance skill. Personally I rathe
r fancy she handled herself in spite of you.’

  He had departed in search of a village and a car to convey them to London before the indignant young man could think of an apt retort. Sophie looked up at Sir Leonard with shining eyes as they stood by the side of the gigantic machine. He guessed what was coming, and hastily interposed.

  ‘Please don’t,’ he pleaded. ‘It isn’t necessary. There is only one thing I long for now.’

  ‘What is that?’ she asked softly.

  ‘Twelve hours of uninterrupted, solid, profound sleep,’ he told her, raising his hand to his mouth to suppress a yawn.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Blessed Are The Matchmakers!

  Cousins returned in half an hour seated in a car driven by a phlegmatic individual, who did not seem particularly surprised at sight of the huge air liner standing in the meadow.

  The three ladies and Sir Leonard Wallace crowded in, Foster being left to look after the aeroplane and the German pilot. In the neighbouring village the chief telephoned to the Foreign Office, getting a clear line through to the Secretary of State himself. The latter was in a condition of intense excitement. He had received the very important documents sent by Gottfried from Paris. There had already been a Cabinet meeting. Sir Leonard asked that the Ambassador in Berlin should be immediately communicated with and told that he could now raise the question of the detention of Miss Meredith and Foster. The Minister was vastly interested, demanded to know details, but Sir Leonard told him they must wait. The message, however, was to be sent to the Ambassador at once with instructions to send Miss Meredith home. The Foreign Secretary promised to see that that was done. Wallace then described rapidly the borrowing of the German air liner. He impressed upon his hearer the necessity of its landing being kept as secret as possible and a supply of petrol sent to enable it to return to Germany without delay. This time the astonished statesman forbore to ask questions which he knew would not be answered until Sir Leonard chose. He declared that he would immediately communicate with the Air Minister. Wallace left the telephone satisfied that his work was completed.