Riverbend School for Girls - Vox Fluminis Yearbook (Winnipeg, Manitoba Canada)

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Vox Fluminis 27 be. Cathy was stunned by the discovery she had just made. She felt weak and wobbly. She must get to a chair. The bench under the old, oak tree was just in front of them. Kurt could feel the arm about his tighten, he looked at Cathy's face, shades paler than a few minutes ago, he saw her trembling all over. Cathy, Cathy darling! What is the matter? I think you had better rest for a while. He helped her onto the bench. Cathy smiled faintly, I'll be all right now. She became aware of the strong arm about her, that still sup- ported her. She was thinking how firm and dependable that arm would always be, always there to lean upon in times of trouble and despair. As Kurt slowly drew her towards him, she forgot that he was a German, and she a Britisher, she forgot her task set her by her father, she forgot everything as his lips met hers, as his eyes looked into hers, in this joyful, never-to-be-for- gotten moment. That night Cathy was unable to sleep. Throwing a loose cloak about her shoulders, she carefully descended the massive, oaken stair-case into the hall, and from there escaped into the gentle breezes of the cool, silent night. Keep- ing to the shadows, she walked along the sandy path that led to the orchard. The soft breezes blew the clouds out of her mind, enabling her to think more clearly. After the afternoon's episode, she must leave here. She could not let herself become more entangled with Kurt than she was. But how could she leave, without her mission being com- pleted first? That would be as great a crime as deserting one's post. Cathy's mind was a whirlpool of problems. Should she stay and let herself and Kurt fall more deeply in love with each other? And if she did, could she gain the necessary information that hitherto she had been unable to get? Or, should she go home, giving up Kurt, and admitting to herself and her father that she was unsuccessful? Unable to decide upon a reasonable answer, she retraced her steps back to the house. As she passed the library, she noticed the open French doors. Hesitating whether to go in that way, low, guttural Voices were wafted to her from inside by the night winds. She stopped still in her steps. This must be done for the Nazi party! Cathy recognized the deep, sonorous voice of Baron von Shreck. Her father was right after all! I Cathy stepped nearer to the open door, but remained well in the shadows, crouched against the wall. The voices ceased. In a few moments the silence was penetrated by the Baron. Your plans are these, you will go from here to Munich. T'here you will board the clipper and arrive at Croydon. This air-port is thirty-three miles from London. Go to London by taxi, some place in the city change your taxis, get out at Charing Cross and from there walk to your destina- tion. Here the Baron stopped. To Cathy, waiting in the shadows, a second was an eternity. To whom was he speaking? The voices resumed, Have you got that firmly fixed in your mind? Here is the important part. K forty-six is in the Glover Building on Oxford Street. His office is situated on . . . The door blew shut. Cathy crept out of the shadows. Gently taking the latch between her fingers, she lifted it up slowly and pushed the door open, emitting a tiny streak of light. A heavy footstep fell upon the floor. Cathy jumped back into the shadows. She waited, flat against the wall . . . but nothing happened! no one came. Once again she heard the voices. These plans are the most vital ever laid by the Nazi powers. You shall leave for Munich the day after to- morrow. You MUST NOT FAIL to deliver them! Yes, father. I will NOT fail! Kurt! Cathy trembled with fear and excitement. She made for the side entrance into the mansion. Quickly and quietly she opened the door, then sped along the gloomy halls, up the carpeted stairs and into the safety of her own room. If anything arises, write out on a small slip of paper, in as few words as possible, the information you have

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26 Vox Fluminis Catherine Mainwaring! For a moment Cathy did not realize whom the speaker was. Glancing up she met the welcoming gaze of a pair of friend- ly, hazy, blue eyes. As she took in the clear-cut features, the firm chin, the high, smooth forehead and long Roman nose, she recalled the countenance of a childhood companion. Kurt von Shreck! I am afraid I did not recognize you at first! I think I should remember you any- where, Catherine. Together they laughed and as they did so, Cathy wondered if all that she had heard about the Germans was true. This young man was no different to the thousands of youths in England. Or was he? Perhaps their ability to mask the truth had enabled the Germans to get where they were. But how could such brutality be disguised? Surely her father was mistaken and these people did not belong to Hitler's regime--at least, not Kurt! Cathy had never received such a warm welcome as she had this time, at the old barronial hall of Baron von Shreck. She was shown to a suite of rooms on the eastern side of the mansion, overlooking a large field, alive with deer and rabbits. Everything was peaceful and quiet, the river babbled across the grounds, the gentle breezes rustled the leafy trees, the birds called back and forth to one another among the shrubs. Cathy passed most of her days lying in a deck chair out in the garden. Miss Forsythe, her nurse, stayed within ear- shot. From time to time she received visits from the Baron and his wife. Kurt drove her around the countryside in his glistening, ultra-modern station- wagon. When Cathy was feeling better, they took their lunches with them and had picnics under the trees along the roadside. Kurt often read to her, with his slightly accented, well-modulated voice. Cathy enjoyed and longed for such days as these. As the weeks and then the fortnights flew by, Cathy realized that something must be done. Already the length of time she had intended to stay was past. She must go home, she could not over- 7 stay her Visit too much, or the Baron would get suspicious. But deep down in Cathy's heart she knew that she did not want to return to England. There was a strange feeling, that, do what she might, was unconquerable and from time to time surged up in her. Slowly but stealthily it had drawn her into its grasp and now, as she tried to tear it out of her mind, her heart, her soul, its strong, iron, claws clutched her more firmly. At first she had been unable to analyse this strange, weird sensation. But one day it came upon her suddenly. She was lolling under the warm rays of an August sun, dreaming of the past, thinking and wondering about the future, when she heard upon the mosaic steps, descending into the rose garden, the well-known tread of a welcome visitor. Down, Pootles! Cathy's heart skipped a beat as the laughing, care- free voice broke the silence of the still afternoon. Kurt appeared outside the door to the rose-arbour. And how is my Sleeping Beauty this fine summer's afternoon? See, I have brought the Beasts to amuse you for a while! Mm! much better, now that Prince Charming has arrived. Though Cathy was joking, she realized that what she had said was somewhat true and she tried not to admit it to herself. You know, Kurt, I believe I could walk about the garden for a few minutes this afternoon. My back is much better today. Fine, Cathy! I am so pleased to hear it, and as he spoke he stretched out his strong arms to help her to her feet. They walked through the garden, arm in arm, speaking only now and then to remark upon the extraordinary beauty or colouring of some rose. As they wandered here and there, the realism of that strange, Aunquenchable feeling, which Cathy had sensed, came to her. Now she knew the truth, the awful truth! She was in love with Kurt Shreck. Yes, in love with Kurt Shreck! Kurt Shreck the son of a deadly enemy of her country, and he, himself for all she knew, might also

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28 Vox Fluminis learned. Go to the Schrossenburg Antique Shop and ask for 'Der Froft' by the artist Herr Luchenstein. A little old man will wait upon you. When no one is watching, hand him the paper. The words of her father re- peated themselves over and over in Cathy's mind. Kurt, Kurt! Why must it be you! Why could not it have been someone else? As Cathy kissed Kurt good-bye, she realized that no-one else would fill his place in her heart. She knew that she would never conquer her love for him, that she would be like a shell for the remainder of her life, devoid of the one thing that made life worth living. Cathy, my child, Cthough now I am able to call you a child no longerb I am proud of you! Very proud of you! The fire and courage, the undauntable character of your dear mother, has come to life in you. Through your bravery we have been able to capture the greatest spy ring organized by the Nazis. Their leader, his chief co- operators, and the man who brought the plans from Germany will be sen- tenced to death sometime during the week! Nancy Bushell - Grade XII, Douglas House. IMAGINATION FROSTY wandered into the little town and inquired about a place to eat and sleep. He was told to go to a small house on the edge of the village where Mrs. Somerville, a young widow, wished to take in boarders. As the road wound before him, his thoughts turned to his friends. Let me see. There was Red, Chuck, Sonny, Joe- and I musn't forget the boss, the dirty double crosser! 'Sorry, Frosty, there ain't enough to go round, you can't have your sharef I did that job so well, too. I sure was lucky Joe was the only one guarding the dough. Just think, fifteen hundred smackers, and it's all mine. Did that guy say 15 Sunset Boulevard? I guess this must be it. Frosty rang the bell and the door was opened by a young woman of startling loveliness. She was dark and slender with eyes the color of violets. Behind her peeped a little child the very image of her beautiful mother except for the freckles on her face. Frosty asked about a room and was shown a bedroom which was spotless, smart. It seemed ideal for his purpose. This village was out of the way and the gang wouldn't ever suspect him of being here. It was not like the city where the boss had a ring of spies and Frosty was likely to be shot on sight. Little by little, week by week, Frosty became attached to the little white cottage, Mary, and her child Trudie. Mary and Trudie too were fond of their new boarder. Trudie was having the time of her life. Frosty made doll's house furni- ture, tents, caves and all the toys it was possible to construct for her. One day when they were playing cops and robbers, Frosty was hiding near the windows. His thoughts were not concentrated on the game but had wandered to the danger he risked from the gang. Trudie crept into the room, quiet as a mouse, put her toy gun -to Frosty's back and shouted, Bang! Frosty fell down! Trudie laughed and laughed. It's all right, she laughed, 'SI was only pretending. You can get up now, Frosty. Mummy, come and see how funny Frosty is pretending! Mary came into the room, drying some dishes. She also laughed. Then the laugh died in her throat. She ran over to Frosty and felt his heart. He was dead. THE TIMES Jimmy McGuire, alias Frosty McGuire, died yesterday from a heart attack. He was staying at the home of Mrs. Somerville, of 15 Sunset Boulevard, Austin, Minne- sota. The attack was very sudden. Jill Riddell, Garry Hall.