Traitors' Gate Read Online Free Page B

can keep that up God knows if we’ll ever be able to launch an assault against Hitler’s Europe. Anyhow, you can count it out for 1942.’
    Getting to his feet, Sir Pellinore added in a more cheerful tone, ‘Only comforting thought is that the British people are running true to form. We always have won the last battle in every war. That’s what really matters. Can’t stop gossiping here all night with you, though. Got to have a bath and freshen myself up. Sorry I’ve got to go out; but if you like to dinehere I’ll tell Crawshay to get up a bottle of the Roederer ‘28 for you to drink with your dinner.’
    ‘Thanks; that’s a temptation to stay in,’ Gregory grinned. ‘But after our chat I feel I need a little cheering up; so I’ll see if I can find a few blissfully ignorant and optimistic types at my club. It would be nice, though, if we could split that bottle in the morning.’
    ‘Good idea. Eleven o’clock, eh? I often take a pint at that hour. Learnt the habit from my Colonel when I was a youngster. He used to call it “a little eleven o’clock’’, and always asked one of his subalterns to join him. Stuff cost only six bob a bottle in those days. Well, don’t break your neck in the blackout. Poor sort of endin’ for a feller like you.’
    On the following morning, knowing that his host liked to have a clear hour in which to deal with his most urgent affairs, Gregory tactfully refrained from going to the library until eleven o’clock. On his entering it Sir Pellinore told his secretary to go and get on with the letters, then pointed to the bottle which already reposed in an ice-bucket on the drinks table. Gregory opened it, and for a few minutes, while enjoying the first fragrance of the wine, they exchanged pleasant platitudes; then, no longer able to restrain his impatience, he asked:
    ‘Well; was General Ismay there last night?’
    ‘What, Pug?’ Sir Pellinore’s voice was casual. ‘Oh yes, he was in great form. I had a word with him about you. As I supposed, direct Commissions into the Army are absolutely out. Still, steps are being taken to fix you up right away on most favoured nation terms.’
    ‘What exactly does that mean?’ Gregory asked, a shade suspiciously.
    Sir Pellinore’s slightly protuberant bright blue eyes regarded him with faintly cynical amusement. ‘Pug and I decided that, as you had been called up, the sooner you got through doing your stuff on the barrack square the better, so this time next week you’ll be jumpin’ around to the orders of a Sergeant-Major.’

3
The Leopard Does Not Change His Spots
    Gregory came slowly to his feet. His brown eyes were hard and the scar on his forehead showed white with anger as he exclaimed, ‘I would never have believed that you, of all people, would have sold me down the river. Surely you could have got me into the Interpreters Corps, or some sort of half-way-house which did not call for me to be shouted at to form fours at my age.’
    Sir Pellinore allowed himself a suggestion of a smile. ‘R.A.F. never form fours. They use the old cavalry drill. Of course, if, as an ex-Army Officer, you have any prejudice against taking a commission in the R.A.F.…’
    ‘You old devil!’ Gregory’s anger had evaporated in an instant. ‘Any man would be honoured to wear that uniform. But how does a commission square with being ordered around by an N.C.O.?’
    ‘The R.A.F. is the only service which is still granting direct commissions to applicants with certain qualifications—technicians, paymasters, schoolmasters, legal wallahs, and so on. They go in as officers but have to do a fortnight’s Intake Course before being posted. There’s a long waiting list, but if you sign your application this afternoon the Director of Plans, Air, will have it pushed in at the top; then you can start getting through this inescapable spell of square-bashing next week.’
    ‘And what is to happen to me when I’m through it?’
    ‘I felt you