Codeword Golden Fleece by Dennis Wheatley Page B

but—er—reasons of State …’ he broke off miserably with an appealing look towards his wife.
    A sudden hush had fallen on the whole assembly. The Baroness stepped forward, and her voice, which she strove to keep calm and pleasant, came clearly to every listening ear.
    ‘My dear Jan, control yourself, please. There is nothing to get excited about. General Mack simply asked the Duke and his friends not to leave until the conference was over.’
    ‘It was not a request but an order,’ Jan stormed. ‘As a member of the family. I demand that he should apologise at once.’
    Mack had paled slightly at this unwelcome scene. His natural instinct was to pacify the outraged dignity of his troublesome countryman, but he dared not display such weakness before the Germans. His dark eyes glistening, he snapped:
    ‘You forget yourself! You must be quite well aware who I am. How dare you question the wisdom of my decisions?’
    ‘I know who you are, and I don’t give a damn!’ retorted Jan. ‘As a Polish nobleman, I refuse to stand by and see Polish hospitality shamed before our English allies.’
    The room was now so silent that as the lame Major Bauer clumped forward, his game leg dragging slightly, each footfall of his heavy boots rang hollowly upon the polished parquet. Advancing to within a foot of Jan, he said with studied insolence:
    ‘Your—English allies!’ and spat contemptuously on the floor.
    The blood drained from Jan’s cheeks. He would have hit the German but for the fact that he, too, was Poland’s guest. With an effort he turned to the Baron and cried:
    ‘Uncle! How can you permit this? For God’s sake tell His Excellency, the Minister, and his German friends to go and cheapen themselves elsewhere.’
    Before the Baron had a chance to reply, Major Bauer, his coarse face lit up with fanatical excitement, spoke again:
    ‘
Dumbkopff!
You question the right of your superior to give orders as a Polish Cabinet Minister, eh? All right! Let me tell you! He is something a thousand times greater than that now. He has today been appointed
Grossgauleiter
of Poland.’
    Jan’s eyes seemed to start from his head. He raised a hand as though to ward off a blow, and gasped: ‘I don’t believe it! No Pole would ever surrender Poland’s independence without a fight.’
    In that tense moment General Mack caught the expressions on the faces of his staff. That of the elderly, very senior officer to whom they always referred as ‘Colonel’ was calm, but with a faintly cynical twist of the lips. The rest showed either amazement or anger. Mack saw that, if he were to retain his authority, he must take a bold line, and, banging his fist on a nearby table, he cried:
    ‘Listen! I have entered into certain undertakings for the sake of humanity. War is unavoidable. We all know that. I have simply arranged that, so far as Poland is concerned, the war shall be short.’
    ‘By God! You’ve betrayed us then!’ Jan almost screamed ‘You’ve sold us to the Nazis before we’ve had a chance to fire a shot! You filthy traitor! I’ll kill you for this, if it’s the last thing I ever do!’
    ‘Not sold you, but saved you!’ Bauer shouted. ‘Don’t you understand? Your forces will put up a token resistance only, and your casualties will be few. Then, immediately they lay down their arms our glorious
Fuehrer
has consented to do Poland the honour of permitting her to become a Protectorate of the Reich.’
    His eyes gleaming with frenzied ardour, the Nazi Major ended his pronouncement by shooting up his right arm to its fullest extent, bawling: ‘
Heil Hitler!
’
    Losing all control, Jan hit him a resounding slap across the face.
    Marie Lou was standing between Richard and the Duke, right opposite the broad staircase and near the main doorway of the lounge, which led out into the front hall. As, wide-eyed with apprehension, she surveyed the scene, she realised that every face now portrayed fear, anger, or excitement, except