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the only sign he gave that he had decided to accept me for what I said I was.
    I cannot conceive of how anyone could know that path well. The surface soon changed from pine needles to a sort of rocky rubble, and it twisted and turned like a wounded snake. The wind had dropped, but it was colder than ever, and I found myself crunching through sugary patches of half-frozen slush. I wondered how on earth we were going to bring down a wounded man on an improvised stretcher.
    We had been creeping along without the light for about twenty minutes when Stephan stopped and, shielding the lamp with his coat, relit it. I saw that we had arrived.
    The climbing hut was built against the side of an overhanging rock face. It was about six feet square inside, and the man was lying diagonally across it on his face. There was a large bloodstain on the floor beneath him. He was semi-conscious. His eyes were closed, but he mumbled something as I felt for his pulse.
    ‘Will he live?’ whispered Stephan.
    I didn’t know. The pulse was there, but it was feeble and rapid. His breathing was shallow. I looked at the wound. The bullet had entered on the inner side of the left thigh just below the groin. There was a little bleeding, but it obviously hadn’t touched the femoral artery and, as far as I could see, the bone was all right. I made a dressing with one of the towels and tied it in place with another. The bullet could wait. The immediate danger was from shock aggravated by exposure. I got to work with the blankets and the flask of coffee. Soon the pulse strengthened a little, and after about half an hour I told them how to prepare the stretcher.
    I don’t know how they got him down that path in the darkness. It was all I could do to get down by myself. It was snowing hard now in great fleecy chunks that blinded you when you moved forward. I was prepared for them to slip and drop the stretcher; but they didn’t. It was slow work, however, and itwas a good forty minutes before we got to the point where it was safe to light the lamp.
    After that I was able to help with the stretcher. At the foot of the path up to the chalet, I went ahead with the lantern. The woman heard my footsteps and came to the door. I realized that we must have been gone for the best part of three hours.
    ‘They’re bringing him up,’ I said. ‘He’ll be all right. I shall need your help now.’
    She said, ‘The bed is ready.’ And then, ‘Is it serious,
Herr Doktor
?’
    ‘No.’ I didn’t tell her then that there was a bullet to be taken out.
    It was a nasty job. The wound itself wasn’t so bad. The bullet must have been pretty well spent, for it had lodged up against the bone without doing any real damage. It was the instruments that made it difficult. They came from the kitchen. He didn’t stand up to it very well, and I wasn’t surprised. I didn’t feel so good myself when I’d finished. The cognac came in useful after all.
    We finally got him to sleep about five.
    ‘He’ll be all right now,’ I said.
    The woman looked at me and I saw the tears begin to trickle down her cheeks. It was only then that I remembered that she wasn’t a nurse, but his wife.
    It was Johann who comforted her. Stephan came over to me.
    ‘We owe you a great debt,
Herr Doktor
,’ he said. I must apologize for our behaviour earlier this evening. We have not always been savages, you know. Kurt was a professor of zoology. Johann was a master printer. I was an architect. Now we are those who crawl across frontiers at night and plot like criminals. We have been treated like savages, and so we live like them. We forget sometimes that we were civilized. We ask your pardon. I do not know how we can repay you for what you have done. We …’
    But I was too tired for speeches. I smiled quickly at him.
    ‘All that I need by way of a fee is another glass of cognac and a bed to sleep in for a few hours. I suggest, by the way, that you get a doctor in to look at the patient later