is the head of the Political Police, you know. He gave me the same
advice as the General, namely, to forget all about what occurred at the
Esplanade last night. And then the Princess Radolin rang me up to say
the same thing. She seemed very frightened: she was quite tearful.
Someone evidently had scared her badly."

"Monica," I said, "it's quite clear I can't stay here. My dear girl, if
I am discovered in your house, there is no knowing what trouble may not
come upon you."

"If there is any risk," she answered, "it's a risk I am ready to take.
You have nowhere to go to in Berlin, and if you are caught outside they
might find out where you had been hiding and then we should be as badly
off as before. No, you stay right on here, and maybe in a day or two I
can get you away. I've been thinking something out.

"Karl has a place near the Dutch frontier, Schloss Bellevue, it is
called, close to Cleves. It's an old place and has been in the family
for generations. Karl, however, only uses it as a shooting-box: we had
big shoots up there every autumn before the war.

"There has been no shooting there for two years now and the place is
overstocked with game. The Government has been appealing to people with
shooting preserves to kill their game and put it on the market, so I had
arranged to go up to Bellevue this month and see the agent about this. I
thought if I could prevail on Gerry to come with me, you could accompany
him and you might get across the Dutch frontier from there. It's only
about fifteen miles away from the Castle. If I can get a move on Gerry,
there is no reason why we shouldn't go away in a day or two. In the
meantime you'll be quite safe here."

I told her I must think it over: she seemed to be risking too much. But
I think my mind was already made up. I could not bring destruction on
this faithful friend.

Then I went upstairs again to Gerry, who was in as vile a temper as
before. His lunch had disagreed with him: he hadn't slept: the room was
not hot enough ... these were a few of the complaints he showered at me
as soon as I appeared. He was in his most impish and malicious mood. He
sent me running hither and thither: he gave me an order and withdrew it
in the same breath: my complacency seemed to irritate him, to encourage
him to provoke me.

At last he came back to his old sore subject, my English accent.

"I guess our good American is too homely for a fine English gentleman
like you," he said,