thumping his tail on the deck every time his name was mentioned. Robert could sense how confident his dog was in their collective ability to save him—if only his master shared such confidence.
They had been discussing various stratagems, but nothing seemed to offer their dog even the barest chance of escape. Robert cradled his head in his hands for a moment, resting his face against that of his dog. He stared into the trusting eyes of his faithful companion: My boy, I do not have the slightest idea what we’re going to do with you now.
As if in answer Ant rose to his feet, wandered over to Robert’s kit bag, and started to root out the contents. He crawled inside and glanced back at his master, and in that instant he seemed to communicate to Robert the beginnings of a plan: Remember—all for one, and one for all.
“Hold on a minute . . .” Robert glanced at the others, the germ of an idea making his eyes sparkle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t there a huge pile of our luggage waiting to be off-loaded?”
Karel nodded. “There is. What’re you thinking?”
Robert beckoned his fellow conspirators closer, lowering his voice as he outlined a plan. An hour later Ant had vanished completely from view. His protectors had decided to defy the British authorities and to break the law of the country to which they were headed, and upon which they had pinned their hopes of further resisting the enemy. They knew it could jeopardize their future in Britain if they were caught. They might even be arrested or refused entry: but thatwas a risk they were willing to take to save the eighth member of their fellowship.
All for one, and one for all : that had been the trigger that had set Robert’s synapses sparking. Toward the stern of the ship were several large heaps of luggage. They constituted the passengers’ worldly possessions, separated out by service and nationality. The Czech airmen’s pile was netted down and sheeted over with a tarpaulin. On arrival at the dock, their heap of suitcases and kit bags would be raised up in its net by a quayside crane and lifted ashore.
It was within that netload of luggage that one dog’s promise of escape and survival might lie.
Seven
They’d smuggled Ant onto the ship and had to smuggle him off again—for pets were bound for quarantine or destruction upon arrival in the UK.
U nder cover of darkness Robert and his fellows mined out a tunnel leading to the very center of the luggage mountain. They removed one large case and placed it on top of the others, replacing it with one dog trussed up in Robert’s kit bag, and with only a thin passage leading to the outside. It was too narrow and dark for anyone to see into the center, but wide enough to pass food and water to Ant, depending on how long he needed to be kept hidden in there.
The hiding place complete, Robert urged Ant to stay silent and still, for his very life might depend upon it. That done, they left their dog in the midst of the luggage mountain and prepared for stage two of their plan: outright defiance of British law.
At two o’clock the following afternoon the ship’s crew began a final inspection of the Neuralia ’s quarters, with a view to taking into custody all animal stowaways. When they tallied up at the end of their search, one was missing. Sergeant Robert Bozdech’s young German shepherd—the handsome dog with a distinctive black streak running down his backbone—seemed to have disappeared. Robert was called before the ship’s officers, but there was little sign now of the amusement that had greeted Ant-the-stowaway’s arrival aboard.
“Sergeant Bozdech, we note you have failed to hand over your dog,” one of the officers began. “We made it quite clear what the rules are, so where is he?”
The Czech interpreter translated, and Robert gave the best shrug he could muster. “Sorry, sir, I haven’t seen him for a good twenty-four hours or more.”
The officer fixed Robert with a
They had been discussing various stratagems, but nothing seemed to offer their dog even the barest chance of escape. Robert cradled his head in his hands for a moment, resting his face against that of his dog. He stared into the trusting eyes of his faithful companion: My boy, I do not have the slightest idea what we’re going to do with you now.
As if in answer Ant rose to his feet, wandered over to Robert’s kit bag, and started to root out the contents. He crawled inside and glanced back at his master, and in that instant he seemed to communicate to Robert the beginnings of a plan: Remember—all for one, and one for all.
“Hold on a minute . . .” Robert glanced at the others, the germ of an idea making his eyes sparkle. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t there a huge pile of our luggage waiting to be off-loaded?”
Karel nodded. “There is. What’re you thinking?”
Robert beckoned his fellow conspirators closer, lowering his voice as he outlined a plan. An hour later Ant had vanished completely from view. His protectors had decided to defy the British authorities and to break the law of the country to which they were headed, and upon which they had pinned their hopes of further resisting the enemy. They knew it could jeopardize their future in Britain if they were caught. They might even be arrested or refused entry: but thatwas a risk they were willing to take to save the eighth member of their fellowship.
All for one, and one for all : that had been the trigger that had set Robert’s synapses sparking. Toward the stern of the ship were several large heaps of luggage. They constituted the passengers’ worldly possessions, separated out by service and nationality. The Czech airmen’s pile was netted down and sheeted over with a tarpaulin. On arrival at the dock, their heap of suitcases and kit bags would be raised up in its net by a quayside crane and lifted ashore.
It was within that netload of luggage that one dog’s promise of escape and survival might lie.
Seven
They’d smuggled Ant onto the ship and had to smuggle him off again—for pets were bound for quarantine or destruction upon arrival in the UK.
U nder cover of darkness Robert and his fellows mined out a tunnel leading to the very center of the luggage mountain. They removed one large case and placed it on top of the others, replacing it with one dog trussed up in Robert’s kit bag, and with only a thin passage leading to the outside. It was too narrow and dark for anyone to see into the center, but wide enough to pass food and water to Ant, depending on how long he needed to be kept hidden in there.
The hiding place complete, Robert urged Ant to stay silent and still, for his very life might depend upon it. That done, they left their dog in the midst of the luggage mountain and prepared for stage two of their plan: outright defiance of British law.
At two o’clock the following afternoon the ship’s crew began a final inspection of the Neuralia ’s quarters, with a view to taking into custody all animal stowaways. When they tallied up at the end of their search, one was missing. Sergeant Robert Bozdech’s young German shepherd—the handsome dog with a distinctive black streak running down his backbone—seemed to have disappeared. Robert was called before the ship’s officers, but there was little sign now of the amusement that had greeted Ant-the-stowaway’s arrival aboard.
“Sergeant Bozdech, we note you have failed to hand over your dog,” one of the officers began. “We made it quite clear what the rules are, so where is he?”
The Czech interpreter translated, and Robert gave the best shrug he could muster. “Sorry, sir, I haven’t seen him for a good twenty-four hours or more.”
The officer fixed Robert with a
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