Read Online The Alien by Josephine Bell - Free Book Online

others? My mother – my sisters?’’
    â€œThe same.’’
    â€œI have never allowed myself to hope. But I find I have always done so.’’
    Scziliekowicz’s hand went out for the second time to press the younger man’s shoulder. He seemed to be very much moved, for he took away his hand a moment later to find a large handkerchief which he pressed to his face in unashamed grief.
    Boris stood quite still, looking now at the floor between his feet. A flood of memories assailed him, tearing him apart, swamping his mind, stopping the questions he most wanted to ask, nearly drowning his heart, choking his breathing, above all washing away his new-found confidence. He struggled to keep back a purely animal cry of pain. Four months free from daily fear, secure from physical punishment, had weakened him, he thought bitterly, struggling now with tears that would not be held back.
    He let them fall. He gulped his brandy, drew the back of his hand across his eyes and at last looked up, still seeing in place of his father’s friend, his father’s own form and face, his mother’s gentle questioning eyes, his younger sister’s thin beauty.
    â€œHow?’’ he asked, in a low harsh voice. “Why? When?’’
    â€œIt has not been established exactly when or how. During the upheavals of the Russo-German pact. Your estate lay on the border of the two zones. The border was disputed, naturally. Not least on the spot. The German side was occupied territory – brutal, Teutonic, uncompromising occupation. The Russians were careful and busy with their propaganda. Their political agents were everywhere with promises of land. They found willing ears among certain of your father’s peasants.’’
    â€œIt was the Russians then? They took them—’’
    â€œNo. Worse than that. Your own peasants, in your own house.’’
    â€œNo! No, that is too much!’’
    The general turned from the bookcase when he heard this cry and moved quietly forward until he could see Boris’s face. He stood there, watching, while the revelations continued.
    â€œThat is the report I had, but years later, from your head groom, Vassili, I think his name was.’’
    â€œVassili was in the stables. Ivan Fedorowicz was head groom, with Voliniak. But Ivan came away with me when the war broke out. He was lost in the retreat. Where did you find Vassili?’’
    â€œIn Egypt. Let me tell you, from the beginning. In the retreat – I was in the government service, you may remember – I was put in charge of certain archives, to get them out of the country. I set off with a small party. The route I planned, through Rumania to Greece and so to France, would pass near your estate. I determined to take your parents and sisters with me. I had resources and a guard of a sort. I went to the house and found them gone.’’
    â€œAnd then?’’
    â€œThere was no time to delay. The Germans behind in the west, the Russians coming in from the east. I had to travel south in the narrowing corridor between the two enemies. The two traditional enemies. Alas for Poland!’’
    There was a silence. Boris waited.
    â€œWell, I got through. It took a long time. The frontiers were closed. It was a matter of bribes and bargaining and sometimes naked escape, without explanation, fortunately without trace. We reached Rumania in mid-winter and spent it among friendly peasants. The next summer France fell and our future seemed to have been swallowed up too. But we followed our plan to Greece and when the next threat came, to Egypt, to the British in Egypt. There I found more of my countrymen and among them, your Vassili.’’
    Boris lifted a pale face.
    â€œGo on.’’
    â€œYour father had received a message to leave his house, to hide in a certain place and to wait there until he was rescued. He obeyed the instructions. Nothing