The senses of Rudolph Altinger came back to him with a painful and immediate rush. It could not have been many seconds since they had been driven out—but he could not move. He lay on the carpet still, but upon his side. And he could not use his arms nor legs, for something bound them together. And he could not open his mouth: there was something over it which was stuck to his lips and the skin of his cheeks and hurt both when he tried to speak or draw in a deeper breath. There was a deep ringing in his ears and fiery specks danced before his eyes. He closed the eyes—and felt arms about him which raised him as if his hundred and seventy pounds were the weight of a child and then thrust him roughly into a hard chair whose arms scraped against his elbows as he fell into it.
He opened his eyes again. The ringing in his ears was less and the specks in front of his eyes were fewer and he was aware of the figure of young Jorgensen bending and looming over him and winding something about his middle which forced him cruelly yet further back into the chair.
Otto stood over his prisoner and looked down at him.
“Now!” said Otto. “I will explain. You can hear me—and understand what I am saying? Nod your head.”
Rudolph Altinger nodded his head.
Otto said: “If you do not understand me, shake your head. I will tell you now why this has happened. I am no longer a loyal soldier of the Reich. Nor do I consider myself a subject of the present Germany. I am opposed completely to the aims and principles of the present leaders of Germany.”
He paused. He had been speaking very slowly. He knew the words he had said, and those which he was going to say, by heart. He had rehearsed them, many times. But he was slow because he must be sure, absolutely sure, that he was understood without possibility of error. An error would make no difference whatsoever to his enemies, but every difference to himself and his motives and his . . . honour. He thought, suddenly and unexpectedly, of Clare—and then of her father. It was a long moment before he spoke again.
He said then: “I am not going to tell you why I have . . . changed. You would not understand. I am telling you only that I have changed. When I found that I had changed, I did not know what to do. Again you would not understand, so I am telling you only what I have decided. I have decided that I cannot betray you and the others in this country who serve the Reich. I have decided that I must warn you, and then allow you ten days—that is the time you have told me—to get them and yourself out of this country. After the ten days I shall tell in the Capitol all that I know—everything. And that is a great deal: it is all the names of the officers—and where they are—and all the Plans, including Plan Six—and the names of the Staff Council and where they are to be found—and much more! Enough to be sure that when they know, the authorities of this country will at once be able to seize all of you. . . . Do you fully understand what it is that I am saying?”
Rudolph Altinger nodded his head. His eyes were sharp and bright again. They seemed darker than ever Otto had seen them.
Otto said: “I could have spoken to you more quickly in German. But I do not wish to do this—again for reasons which you will not understand. But you will understand this:
Rudolph Altinger nodded his head.
Otto said: “I am taking this advantage only—that I have planned before what I shall do, and have put you there, like that, so that you are unable to do anything until someone frees you, and you will therefore not be able to set your men and yourself after me so soon that I should have no chance against the numbers. But that is only a little advantage for me—it leaves the balance down upon your side still.”
He stopped speaking. He looked at Rudolph Altinger for a long time. He said at last, in a different tone, and much more quickly than he had been speaking:
“I could have killed you. I have the thought that perhaps I should have killed you. But that would be against the plan I have made for myself.”
Altinger’s eyes were staring into his. They said to him:
“You’re a damned fool not to kill me. I shall kill you!”