"He was in his room at the Meurice waiting for the train to
Calais. He was, in fact, fatigued with the attention the French
authorities had given him. Everything that one could think of
had been anticipated, he said. He thought there could be nothing
more. Then there was a timid knock, and a nurse came in to say
that she had been sent to see that the dressing on his arm was
all right. He said that he had found it easier to submit to the
French attentions than to undertake to explain that he didn't
need them.
"He was busy with some final orders, so he put out his arm and
allowed the nurse to take the pins out of the split sleeve and
adjust the dressing. She put on some bandages, made a little
timid curtsey and went out.
"St. Alban didn't think of it again until the German U-boat
stopped the transport the next morning in the Channel. He wasn't
disturbed when the submarine commander came into his cabin. He
knew enough not to carry any papers about with him. But
Plutonburg didn't bother himself about luggage. He'd had his
signal from the factory chimney at Auteuil. He stood there
grinning in the cabin before St.
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