The Hour of the Donkey

just when he was within an ace of collapsing altogether, a strong arm came out of nowhere to support him.

'Coom on, sar—had oop noo! Aah've got yew!' a strange voice close to his ear encouraged him deferentially. 'Aaah've got yew noo!'

The voice was almost unintelligible, but it was British—and the arm was khaki-clad and undubitably British too—and each in its different way recalled Bastable to his duty, reminding him that he mustn't let the side down in the midst of the enemy.

'Aye, that's reet, sar—tek it aisy noo, aah've got yew.'

One of the guards appeared in front of them suddenly, snapping angry words and making threatening gestures with his rifle.

The British soldier at Bastable's side made a rude gesture at the rifle. 'Why man—wee the fukken hell d'ye think ye are?

Haddaway and shite!' he snapped back, and then transferred his attention to Bastable again. 'Divunt tek ainy notice uv him, sar—had oop noo—that's champion!'

Another figure loomed up: it was the young German officer dummy4

who had attended the Colonel at the roadside where they had been captured.

'Hauptmann—Doctor .. .' He exhibited exactly the same degree of irritated concern Bastable himself would have felt if charged by his commanding officer with such a mission, which had to be done properly but which was a great waste of valuable time.

'Right-oh!' said Wimpy through clenched teeth. 'Let's go then, Harry.'

They lurched forward towards the main door of the building ahead, their five good legs producing an erratic crablike motion which made precise steering difficult. For the greater part of the journey the Germans they encountered took not the least notice of them, even when stepping aside to let them through; it was only when they had almost reached the doorway that they came upon a group of officers who evinced any interest in them.

First, it was borne on Bastable that this group was not going to give way, and that the crab would have to navigate round it. Then a quick glance terrified him: one of the officers carried the lightning zig-zag of the dreaded SS on his collar, and he was accompanied by a civilian in an oddly-cut leather driving jacket who frowned at them with sudden curiosity which made his heart miss a beat.

For a second he was undecided as to which way to manoeuvre the crab. Then his mind was made up for him by Wimpy, who had hitherto allowed himself to be pulled or dummy4

pushed without demur, but who now changed direction with a sudden and wholly unexpected burst of energy to propel the crab past the obstacle.

'Halt!' shouted a voice from just behind them.

'Keep going!' hissed Wimpy into Bastable's ear.

'Halt!' repeated the voice.

' Keep going!' repeated Wimpy urgently. 'Pretend you haven't heard— keep going!'

The main door was only two more steps ahead of them.

Almost against his will, in deadly fear of being shot from behind Bastable was swept through it by the combined efforts of a suddenly desperate Wimpy and their rescuer, who apparently needed no encouragement to disobey German commands. The swing doors banged open and then swung shut behind them, cutting of the sunlight. Wimpy swivelled on his good leg to look back through the shattered glass panes.

'Thank Christ— the Jerry subaltern's talking back to them!'

Wimpy turned to the British soldier. 'Who are you?'

'Adwin, sir. First Tyneside Scottish—'

'Is there a way out of here, Adwin?'

' H adwin, sir.'

' Hadwin—Hadwin, is there a way out of here? Quickly now!'

'Sar?' The soldier goggled at him. 'A way oot?'

'In ten seconds from now those SS blighters are coming dummy4

through that doorway, and they're going to shoot us, Hadwin. Now— is there a way out?'

The Tynesider continued to goggle at him, and so did Bastable.

Wimpy pointed. 'Your bloody lanyard, Harry—you' re still wearing it. And they saw it, by God, too—if we don't get out of here right now, Hadwin, the two of us, we've had it. Is there a way out, man?'

Bastable looked down in horror at the treacherous yellow-and-grey snake on his shoulder. How could he have been so stupid as to forget it? Die Abuzsleine— how could he have been so criminally stupid! Feverishly, he tore at his epaulet to get the thing off.

'There's mebbe a rood oot, if yah ganna tek a chance, sar,'

said the Tynesider. 'Mind, it's oonly 'aff a chance, aah'm tellin' yew, sar—'

'We'll take it,' snapped Wimpy.

'Reet, sar. Coom oon, then!' The Tynesider led the way down the debris-littered passage ahead.