For a moment Simona did not speak and the Marquis said,
“If you feel it is something you cannot do, then I shall quite understand.”
He paused for a moment before adding,
“I think I should tell you that Dorkins learned from the guards that they intend to start torturing Watson tomorrow to make him tell them about the gun.”
Simona cried out,
“They must be stopped!”
“It is what they will do,” the Marquis asserted, “unless you can open the door for us so that we can rescue him.”
“But suppose – the night-watchmen hear me – and I am – arrested?” Simona asked.
“Dorkins has seen to that,” the Marquis explained. “He gave them earlier this evening – in fact he had only just arrived back when he came to your bedroom – some very intoxicating red wine, which is a luxury they are unable to afford for themselves.”
“So – they are – drunk,” Simona stammered.
“When Dorkins left them they were very drunk and as they are the night guard they will not be relieved until dawn tomorrow morning.”
Simona sighed with relief.
“If this was something I could do myself,” the Marquis said, “I would do it. But I am afraid I am too big and too fat!”
Because ‘fat’ could never describe the Marquis, Simona chuckled.
“I am very, very grateful to you,” the Marquis continued, “as Watson will also be. I do not think either of us could bear to think of him suffering in such an appalling manner.”
“No – of course – not,” Simona agreed.
The horses were moving quicker and now they were travelling through what she recognised as the large wood in the centre of Berlin.
Eventually the horses slowed down and finally the carriage came to a standstill.
“We will have to walk from here,” the Marquis said, “but I want you to make sure you memorise the way back to the carriage so that you can return here and change your clothes as soon as you have opened the door for us. From this moment on we do not speak.”
“I – understand,” Simona murmured.
The Marquis helped Simona out of her coat and placed it on the opposite seat and climbed out of the carriage.
When she followed him he lifted her up into his arms. She realised he was saving her from walking in her diving suit to the building over the rough ground, but the sensation of his body against hers left her breathless.
She could see their destination as a silhouette against the starlit sky. The Panzer Haus was a large and impressive building and, Simona thought, rather frightening.
Because she was so small and light, the Marquis carried her easily in his arms. She became aware that he was wearing soft soled shoes and his footsteps made no sound.
She glanced back and saw that Dorkins was following them carrying something in his arms.
They passed through some trees and bushes until they reached what Simona could see in the moonlight was a massive door. It would be quite impossible for anyone to force it open from the outside.
The Marquis put Simona down very gently on the grass, and she was already missing his comforting touch.
Dorkins came forward and she saw that he was carrying a short ladder in his arms. He laid it against the door and climbed up.
He then began to work away at the iron grating above the door, which was obviously the ventilation shaft.
It took Dorkins some time because he was working as silently as possible. Gradually he worked the grating loose first at one side and then at the other.
Finally it came away in his hands and he passed it down to the Marquis, who laid it on the grass.
Dorkins removed the ladder and the Marquis picked Simona up in his arms again so that her head was level with the opening. He was tall enough that the ladder was not needed.
Simona could see it was just wide enough for her to squeeze her body through and she should encounter no difficulty with her legs.
The Marquis supported her so that she could enter the opening feet first. Holding tightly onto the sill, she twisted and turned until she had forced her body through.
It was not at all easy and she realised that it would have been impossible for a man or even for woman as large as Karoline.
Now she was inside the Panzer Haus!
Holding tightly to the bottom of the opening, she swung for a moment above the door before dropping silently to the floor.
It was not as long a drop as she had feared and as her feet touched the ground, she found she was standing on a mat which was softer than if it had been wood or stone.
Now her next task was to open the door but she was afraid that the bolts might be too high.
To her relief she found, by feeling with her hands in the dark, that there was a heavy bolt within reach on the door above the lock and another one below it.
Then she became worried that the bolts would be rusty and difficult to move, but she had however underestimated the efficiency of the Germans.
The bolts were heavy but well oiled.
Simona pulled them back using all her strength, and it was not too difficult after all.
Now she had only to turn the key which was not as stiff as it might have been.
With not even a flicker of light to guide her, she felt around the bottom of the door and as far as she could reach upwards, but there were no more bolts.
Now she was praying desperately that when she pulled at the door it would open to allow the Marquis and Dorkins to join her.
She pulled but nothing happened.
She felt a sudden streak of fear and turned the key again.
What had she forgotten to do?
She pulled again.
Now the door seemed to quiver.
The Marquis on the outside realised that her task had been successful and he and Dorkins slammed their combined weight against the door.
With a rasping sound, which could have been caused by rust, it opened.
Simona was only just quick enough to spring to one side or it would have struck her.
The Marquis ran in through the open door.
He put his arm around Simona and drew her against him, before whispering,
“Well done! Go to the carriage quickly and change into your own clothes.”
Almost before she realised what was happening, the Marquis and Dorkins had disappeared into the Panzer Haus and she was alone.
She slipped out through the door and hurrying over the rough ground which hurt her feet, she quickly reached the carriage.
One of the men on the box had obviously received clear instructions, as he hurried down quickly as soon as he saw Simona and opened the door for her.
As she climbed in, he did not speak but merely closed the door behind her.
Simona was afraid that the Marquis and Dorkins might return before she had completed everything she had been told to do.
She pulled off the black diving suit and dressed in her own clothes which were waiting for her on the seat.
As she finished dressing she looked again at the bundle, wondering what it contained. It had been concealed by her travelling coat, which the Marquis had thrown over it when they left the carriage.
Simona was now ready except for her hat, which she thought could wait until they neared the station.
She looked out of the window but there was no sign of them coming through the bushes and the trees.
She was suddenly afraid that after all the guards could have intercepted them. Were they too now captives like Watson?
‘Please God – please do – not let that – happen,’ she prayed. ‘The Marquis – must not fall into the hands of the – Germans, because by some – means, however horrible, they will – steal the – plans of his gun from him.’
She prayed fervently, not once but many times.
She was getting desperate.
Simona thought she must go back to see what was happening, when at last she could see three men moving
swiftly through the bushes.
‘Thank you, God, thank you,’ she choked.
A moment later they had reached the carriage.
The Marquis clambered in and the man whom she guessed must be Watson followed him.
Even as Dorkins sprang on to the box, the horses set off.
“You’ve done it, my Lord, you’ve done it!” Watson exclaimed. “How could you be so brilliant?”
“You must thank Miss Bell for your rescue,” the Marquis replied triumphantly.
“Now I want you to change as quickly as you can into the clothes which you are sitting on.”
Watson laughed.
“I thought,” he said, “my seat felt somewhat uncomfortable, my Lord.”
The Marquis held out his arms and pulled Simona close to him.
“Now to save Watson’s blushes,” he said in an ordinary tone as if they were sitting round the fireside, “you must close your eyes or hide your face against me.”
He drew her still closer as he spoke.
Suddenly, because the tension was over, Simona felt herself beginning to cry. She tried to check it, but the tears ran down her cheeks.
Now she was crying tempestuously as a child would have done.
The Marquis drew her even closer.
“It is all right, Simona,” he told her softly. “It is all over and you have been wonderful. No one else could have been so brave as to do what you have done, and I know how delighted the Prince of Wales will be when I tell him that we have saved the gun.”
Simona could not answer and then she felt the Marquis stroking her hair.
She groped for a handkerchief as he held her hands in his.
“I – am so – sorry,” she whispered.
“There is nothing to be sorry about,” the Marquis soothed her. “We have won more than half the battle, but we must not start cheering until we have shaken the soil of Germany off our feet.”
“It can’t be soon enough for me, my Lord,” Watson chimed in.
He was struggling into his new clothes and as Simona stopped crying, she was wondering why he was taking so long.
She was of the impression, when he had entered the carriage, that he was wearing just a shirt and trousers.
“Now what about this wig, my Lord?” Watson asked, “it’s difficult to see which is the front and which is the back of it!”
“Put it on in any way that is comfortable,” the Marquis replied. “It will not show much under your bonnet.”
Simona was so surprised at the last word that she moved slightly to look at the Marquis.
“I have not explained to you,” he said, “that Watson is travelling with us as your lady’s maid. I obtained a special passport for him at the British Embassy today in the name of Paula Wate. That name can easily be altered when he wishes to become a man again!”
“Which will be just as soon as possible, my Lord,” Watson said, “I never fancied meself as a woman, and, if I had to be one, it should have been several years ago when I’d have been better looking.”
The Marquis laughed.
“What is more important is that you should have shaved today.”
“I did shave, as it happens,” Watson replied. “An awful palaver it was too, as they would not allow me alone with a razor in case I cuts me throat.”
“At least we have saved you from that,” the Marquis said.
Watson gave a deep sigh.
“It’s what I’d have had to do if they’d treated me as they intended.”
“Forget it!” the Marquis said. “All we have to think about now is that you are lady’s maid to Miss Simona Bell and you are travelling back to England with her. I should put on the glasses that you will find in a case.”
“I wondered what they were, my Lord,” Watson said, “and though I cannot see meself, I bet my own mother wouldn’t recognise me!”
“I would hope not,” the Marquis said, “and remember we are not safe until we are aboard the Sea-Horse and out at sea.”
“I will be very careful, my Lord,” Watson agreed. “It ain’t any fun being a prisoner of them Germans, I can tell you.”
“I am sure of that”, the Marquis replied.” But you must tell me all about that later. I do not want you to upset Miss Simona.”
Watson lapsed into silence.
A few moments later the Marquis exclaimed,
“We have nearly reached the station and there is a train in about twenty minutes!”
Simona moved from the Marquis’s arms.
“I must put on my hat.”
“There is no hurry,” the Marquis responded, “there will only be a few passengers at this time of the night and you will have plenty of time to tidy yourself in the waiting room.”
The carriage came to a standstill and Dorkins started to unload their luggage.
Simona observed the Marquis giving what she thought was a large sum of money to the two men who had been driving the carriage.
It took Dorkins some time to find the only porter, who had been asleep. He piled their trunks and boxes onto a truck and trundled it onto the platform.
The Marquis looked for the waiting room and said to Watson, “you had better come with us.”
The waiting room boasted only one light but no fire and mercifully there was nobody sitting on the polished leather seats.
“I will see if I can find you something to drink,” the Marquis suggested to Watson.
“I would really prefer something to fill my empty stomach, my Lord,” Watson replied. “They’ve been starving me for the last couple of days!”
“I never thought of that! I will fetch you something immediately. Stay here and look after Miss Simona!”
He hurried out of the waiting room and Watson said when he had left,
“I am so very grateful, miss, that you helped to save me. It is something I never want to go through again.”
“Of course not,” Simona said, “and I think you were very strong not to tell the Germans what they wanted to know.”
“They snatched me up, they did, when I least expected it,” Watson said. “You would think you’d be safe enough in your own country, but them Germans be a menace anywhere and that’s the truth!”
“You will have to write a book on your experiences,” Simona proposed, “and tell the world all about it.”
Watson laughed.
“I ain’t so handy with a pen as I be with other tools, but I will finish that gun for his Lordship if it kills me.”
Simona smiled at him.
She thought he was being very plucky, considering what he had been through.
The Marquis returned followed by Dorkins, who was carrying a tray.
“His Lordship’s robbed the canteen,” he announced cheerily. “It ain’t very exciting but it’s better than nothing.”
“I could eat a whole ox,” Watson enthused.
Dorkins placed the tray beside him and he started to eat ravenously.
His meal looked to Simona to consist mainly of sausage rolls which had gone cold, and must, she thought, be rather nasty.
Watson however appeared to enjoy them and when he found some slices of meat, he ate them quickly in his fingers. He had only half finished his plate when they heard the train approaching.
“I am not leaving this food behind!” Watson exclaimed.
He looked so funny sitting there dressed like a woman and wearing, as Simona appreciated, exactly the clothes a lady’s maid would wear – a black dress covered by a short coat and a bonnet, which fastened in a black bow under his chin.
He did not look at all noticeable and he could quite easily have been a middle-aged, rather plain woman in service.
Dorkins had deftly taken what was left of the meat off the plate and put it into his handkerchief which he handed to Watson.
Then he hurried onto the platform to oversee the sleepy porter loading their luggage into the guard’s van.
Now that the train had arrived, an official in a smart uniform appeared fr
om nowhere.
The Marquis had decided that, if by mischance a hue and cry was raised before they reached the Sea-Horse, there would be no point in trying to conceal his identity.
When the official learnt the identity of the Marquis, he found them a first class carriage and having shown them inside, he locked the door to prevent anyone else from joining them.
The Marquis tipped him.
“What time shall we arrive in Hamburg?” he asked.
“At five-thirty, my Lord,” the official answered.
There had been two or three passengers getting out at Berlin. However apart from the Marquis’s party there were only three workmen, who hurried into a third class carriage.
Then as the train started to pull out of the station, Simona gave a sigh of relief.
“You have won! You have won!” she cried. “We have spirited Watson away. How could you have been so shrewd as to dress him as my lady’s maid?”
“It was Dorkins who thought of it,” the Marquis admitted. “In fact it is Dorkins who has been responsible for organising his escape. I am just wondering what I can give him for being so smart.”
“I think he enjoys all the excitement,” Simona said.
“What about you?” the Marquis asked her.
“I am glad – so very – very glad that we – have rescued an Englishman from – being tortured,” Simona replied. “And – I am – sorry I became so – emotional.”
She stammered over the words because she felt shy.
“You have been magnificent all through!” the Marquis asserted. “But we still have some way to go before we are free. Then we can decide what we will do next.”
Simona wondered what he meant by that.
He was busy moving his hat and overcoat onto an empty seat and she thought he did not want to answer questions.
As the train gathered speed she could only think how wonderful it all was. Not only had they enabled Watson to escape, but the Marquis was now free of the Countess.
Simona could imagine how angry she would be tomorrow morning. Her prey had flown and she had failed those, like the Baron, who had placed such confidence in her skills as a seductress.
‘She is a bad woman and I hate her,’ Simona told herself.
Then as the Marquis returned and sat down beside her she said,
“I can ask you now, who were the men who were driving us in that smart carriage?”
Love Wins In Berlin Page 11
