Power of the Sword - Smith Wilbur - Страница 142

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However, it was only after four days of training that he found himself alone with her. He had finished a hard session in the gymnasium and after showering and changing into grey slacks and a Varsity sweater, he went out through the front entrance of the stadium.

He had almost reached the bus station when she called his name and ran to catch up with him.

I am also going back to the village. I have to talk to the chef - may I ride the bus with you? She must have been waiting for him and he felt flattered and a little nervous.

She had a free, hip-swinging walk, and her hair swayed around her head like a sheet of golden silk when she looked up at him as they walked down to the bus station.

I have been watching the boxers from the other countries, she said, especially the light heavyweights, and I have also been watching you. Yes. He frowned to cover his embarrassment. I saw you., You have nobody to fear, except the American. Cyrus Lomax, he nodded. 'Yes, Ring Magazine rates him the best amateur light heavyweight in the world. Uncle Tromp has been watching him also. He agrees that he is very good. Very strong, and being a nigger, he will have a skull like solid ivory. He is the only one you will have to beat for the gold, she agreed. The gold, the sound of it on her lips had a music that quickened his pulse. And I will be there cheering for you., Thank you, Heidi. They boarded the bus, and when the men in the other seats glanced at Heidi with admiration, he felt proud to have her at his side.

My uncle is a great follower of boxing. He thinks as I do, that you have a good chance of beating the American negro.

He would like very much to meet you. It is kind of your uncle. 'He is having a small reception at his home this evening.

He asks me to invite you. You know that is not possible, he shook his head. My training schedule, My uncle is an important and very influential man,, she insisted, holding her head on one side and smiling appealingly up at him. it will be very early. I promise you will be home before nine o'clock. She saw him hesitate and went on, It will make my uncle, and me, very happy., I have an uncle also, Uncle Tromp, If I get your Uncle Tromp's permission, will you promise to come? Heidi was waiting in the Mercedes at the front door of their house in the village at seven o'clock, as she had arranged. The driver held the rear door open for him and Manfred slid onto the leather seat beside her.

She smiled at him. You look very handsome, Manfred., She had plaited her blond hair into two thick gleaming ropes and piled them on top of her head. Her shoulders and the upper slopes of her stately bosom were bare and snowy perfection. Her blue taffeta cocktail dress matched the colour of her eyes perfectly.

You are beautiful, he said with wonder in his tone. He had never paid a compliment to a woman before, but this was a mere statement of fact. She lowered her eyes, a touchingly modest gesture from someone who must be accustomed to male adulation.

To the Rupertstrasse, she ordered the driver.

They drove slowly down the Kurfarstendamin, watching the throngs of merry-makers on the brightly lit sidewalks, then the Mercedes accelerated as they entered the quieter streets of the westerly section of the Granewald district.

This was the millionaires, village on the western outskirts of the sprawling city, and Manfred relaxed and settled back against the leather upholstery and turned to the lovely woman beside him. She was talking seriously, asking him questions about himself and his family, and about his country. Quickly he realized that she had a much better knowledge of South Africa than he could have expected, and he wondered how she had acquired it.

She knew the history of war and conflict and rebellion, the struggle of his people against the barbarous black tribes, and then the subjugation of the Afrikaner by the British, and the terrible threats to their existence as a people.

The English, she said, and there was a knife-edge of bitterness in her tone. They are everywhere, bringing war and suffering with them, Africa, India, my own Germany. We too have been oppressed and persecuted. if it were not for our beloved Fithrer, we should still be staggering under the yoke of the Jew and the English. Yes, he is a great man, your Fahrer, Manfred agreed and then he quoted: What we must fight for is to safeguard the existence and reproduction of our race and our people, the sustenance of our children and the purity of our blood, the freedom and independence of the fatherland, so that our people may mature for the fulfilment of the mission allotted it by the creator of the universe. Wein Kampf, she exclaimed. You can quote the words of the Fuhrer! They had passed a signing ant milestone in their relationship, Manfred realized.

With those words he has captured everything that I feel and believe, he said. He is a great man, head of a great nation. The house in the Rupertstrasse was set back from the road in large gardens on the bank of one of the beautiful Havel Lakes. There were a dozen chauffeured limousines parked

in the driveway, most of them with swastika pennants on their bonnets and uniformed chauffeurs waiting behind the wheels. All the windows of the large house were lit and there was the sound of music and voices and laughter as their own chauffeur let them out of the Mercedes under the portico.

Manfred offered Heidi his arm and they went in through the open front doors, crossed a lobby of black and white chequered marble slabs and panelled walls decorated with a forest of stag antlers, and paused in the doorway of the large reception room beyond. The room was already filled with guests. Most of the men were in dashing uniforms that glittered with the insignia of rank and regiment, while the women were elegant in silks and velvets, with shoulders bare and hair bobbed in the latest style.

The laughter and conversation subsided as they turned to examine the newcomers, and there were interested and calculating appraisals, for Manfred and Heidi made a strikingly handsome couple. Then the conversation picked up again.

There is Uncle Sigmund, Heidi exclaimed, and drew Manfred into the room towards the tall uniformed figure who came to meet them.

Heidi, my dear. He stooped over Heidi's hand as he kissed it. 'You grow more beautiful each time I see you., Manfred, this is my uncle, Colonel Sigmund Boldt. Uncle Sigmund, may I present Herr Manfred De La Rey, the South African boxer. Colonel Boldt shook hands with Manfred. He had pure white hair scraped severely back from the thin face of an academic, with good bone structure and a narrow aristocratic nose.

Heidi tells me that you are of German extraction? He wore a black uniform with silver death's head insignia on the lapels; and one eyelid drooped, while the eye itself watered uncontrollably and he dabbed at it with the fine linen handkerchief he held in his right hand.

That is true, Colonel. I have very strong ties to your country, Manfred replied.

Ah, you speak excellent German. The colonel took his arm. 'There are many people here this evening who will want to meet you, but first tell me, what do you think of the black American boxer, Cyrus Lomax? And what will be your tactics when you meet him? With discreet social grace, either Heidi or Colonel Boldt were always on hand to steer him from one group of guests to the next, and the wine waiter brought him a glass of mineral water when he refused the champagne that was offered.

However, they left him longer than usual with one guest whom Heidi had introduced as General Zoller, a tall Prussian officer in field grey uniform with an iron cross at the throat who, despite a rather undistinguished and forgettable face with pale sickly features, proved to have a sharp incisive intelligence. He questioned Manfred minutely on the politics and conditions in South Africa, particularly as to the feelings of the average Afrikaner towards their ties to Great Britain and the Empire.

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