'If that is really so…' Gregory murmured. 'But wait a minute! Ribb is leaving tomorrow afternoon for Berlin and, according to your plan, we don't leave for the frontier until Sunday morning. If the police come back with a search warrant on Saturday night Ribb will no longer be here for you to appeal to.'
For a moment she considered that, then she said, 'I decided on Sunday morning because it is much more natural to set out on the first stage of a long journey with a whole day ahead of one; and anyway I couldn't leave till fairly late on Saturday afternoon because Ribb and I will be lunching together and he will expect me to see him off from the airport afterwards. But, if you like, we will start as soon as we can after he has gone.'
The temptation to leave himself in her hands was overwhelming. She was so completely confident that no harm would come to her through his doing so; and, as far as he was concerned, the alternative held all sorts of dangerous uncertainties. Levianski might be away from Budapest or get cold feet and, after all, refuse to hide him. He was unarmed, hatless and the clothes he was wearing were dirty and torn, showing that he had recently been involved in a fight. He had plenty of money but could not use it till the morning to buy other clothes, and a rucksack to carry essentials in for his journey. Even if he succeeded in getting safely out of Budapest, he would be faced with many hazards before he could reach the frontier; then he would have to run the gauntlet between two lots of guards in getting across it and, as Yugoslavia was controlled by the Germans, still be without a passport that he dared to show. Yet his instinctive caution against committing himself to an easy course made him continue to search his mind for possible holes in her alluring offer. After a moment, he said:
'My clothes. When the police learn tomorrow that I was going to stay with you, they will ask you for them on the chance that I have left something among them which would help to trace me.'
'Pipi, my butler, will pack them up and hand them over. I gave away most of Kelemen's things after he died, but there are still enough of them in various cupboards to fit you out; and he was only an inch or so taller than you are.'
'I gather, then, that Pipi is to be trusted. But what about your other servants? Surely there is a big risk that one of them might give away the fact that I am still in the house.'
'Apart from Mario, my chauffeur, only Pipi and his wife, Magda, need know. She used to be my personal maid until she married Pipi and I made her housekeeper, so that she could remain with him while I am away. When I come to Budapest I leave my new girl Lili in Berlin, and Magda still maids me. All three of them are devoted to me. You will have to stay up in your room, of course; but Pipi and Magda between them will look after you and bring you anything you want. Stop havering, darling. It's having been through such a horrid time that makes you so nervy. Really, you can leave everything to me.'
'It's only that I should never forgive myself if, through trying to save me, you found yourself charged with aiding and abetting an enemy agent.'
'Most men wouldn't give a damn if they saw a good chance of saving their own necks. Your scruples make me love you all the more. That's settled, then. Let's go!'
Gregory made no further effort to stop her. The car slid forward, along the Corso back to the bridge, crossed it and followed a zigzag course up the slope of the Buda hill, until Sabine brought it to a halt in a dark, narrow street. On the right could be seen a row of small palaces; on the left only a stone wall sloping slightly inwards that reared up into the darkness. The section of wall alongside which Sabine pulled up was the great buttress in the hillside which supported the east front of the row of palaces in which hers was one. Flush with it, like a ladder from the water to a ship's deck, was a steep narrow flight of stone stairs. Pointing to them Sabine said:
'That's the way in that lovers of the Tozolto ladies have used for centuries. At the top you will find a gate leading on to the terrace. Wait there until I have taken the car round to the courtyard, then I'll come and let you in.'
Five minutes later she unlocked the gate, led him across the terrace and through French windows into a dark salon. There she took his hand and guided him between the dimly seen furniture to a further door which opened into the vaulted hall. When they came out from under the broad staircase he saw the manservant who had taken his things that evening standing by the outer door, and it was evident that Sabine had told him to wait there.
The butler was a middle-aged man, with a pleasant open, rather round, face and slightly greying hair. As he bowed to his mistress she said with a smile, 'Pipi, this is Herr Commandant Tavenier, who came this afternoon to stay with us. Unfortunately there was a row at the Arizona tonight and he got into trouble with the police. It was a stupid business and will all blow over in a day or two, but it would be embarrassing for him if he had to appear in court. You can tell Magda what I've told you, but I don't want anyone else at all to know that the Herr Commandant is here. Is that understood?'
'Yes, Lady Baroness,' the man replied with a frankness and lack of servility that impressed Gregory very favourably.
'Now,' Sabine went on, 'the police may call tomorrow morning to make enquiries and collect the Herr Commandant's belongings. I want you to go up to his room, pack them all up and bring them downstairs ready to be handed over. Then take up to the room everything you can find of our Baron's things for him to use until this silly affair is cleared up. When you have done, come down and let us know.'
With a murmur of assent the butler left them, and Sabine went over to a trolley of drinks. On its lower shelf, under transparent covers, reposed the usual plates of sandwiches, biscuits and cake, in case she came in late and felt like nibbling something with a nightcap before going to bed.
'As we've had no dinner, we had better eat something,' she said. 'Although I'm not really hungry; I had such a large lunch. How about you? If you would like something more solid Pipi could get it for us.'
'No, thanks; there is plenty here. A couple of sandwiches and a brandy and soda will suit me.'
'Ought you to drink anything? Alcohol, I mean, after that blow on the head.'
He smiled. 'Don't worry. I've been knocked out too often not to know when I'm likely to get delayed concussion. All I need now to make me my own man again is a drink and a good hot bath to get this oily muck off my neck and chest.'
'All the same, your poor head ought to be seen to,' she said solicitously. 'Mix me a brandy and soda too, while I get things to bathe it.'
Having left him for a few minutes she returned with a basin of hot water, lint and ointment. Her examination confirmed that the blow had had no serious effect. Only the skin of his scalp was broken and there was very little clotted blood about the place. After cleaning the wound she applied the ointment, and they settled down to their alfresco supper, eating considerably more than they had at first expected.
They had not long finished when Pipi came back to report that he had carried out his orders. Greatly to Gregory's surprise Sabine stood up and said to him:
'You must still be feeling very groggy after that fight you got mixed up in. What you need is a hot bath and a nice long sleep; so I won't keep you up any longer.' Then she turned to Pipi and added, 'Please see the Herr Commandant up to his room.'
Hardly believing that she could mean it, Gregory thanked her and bowed over her hand. But she confirmed the impression that she really intended him to go to bed by saying, 'Good night; I hope you will feel quite recovered in the morning. We'll have lots of time to talk tomorrow.'