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    Sixty Days to Live

    Page 40
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      ‘What’s that?’ she cried. ‘What’s that?’

      A faint, high, whining note came from the distance, gradually increasing to a roar.

      ‘God!’ shouted Hemmingway, struggling out of the bag. ‘It’s a plane! A plane!’

      Next moment they saw it, flying at about 2,000 feet; a great, silver monoplane soaring through the blue sky southward down the Channel.

      As it approached they stood on the cliff-top waving and shouting wildly. The plane passed almost overhead and they feared that its pilot had failed to see them but suddenly it curved out to sea, and, turning, came back towards them. It rose again, banked steeply, and turning into the wind, came gracefully down on to the flat surface of the hard-frozen snow at the base of the cliffs.

      Frantic with excitement Lavina and Hemmingway waved to the occupants of the plane, who waved back to them from one of its windows. Stumbling from numbness but given new strength by their intense mental exhilaration they lurched along hand in hand seeking a way down to the sea-level.

      After twenty minutes they found a gap in the cliff and scrambled down it. Lavina fell, staggered up, and fell again; she could go no farther. Hemmingway picked her up in his arms and stumbled across the snow towards two people who had got out of the plane to come and meet them. To their joy and utter amazement they recognised the man and woman as Rupert Brand and Conchita del Serilla.

      Half-fainting Lavina collapsed in Conchita’s arms the moment Hemmingway set her down, while the two men crushed each other’s hands as though they meant to break every bone in each other’s fingers.

      ‘Lord knows what happened when the comet hit the world!’ said Rupert when their first greetings were over and the brandy from his flask was coursing through Lavina’s and Hemmingway’s veins, bringing them new life. ‘We decided to face the business in my stratosphere record-breaker just as I’d planned half-jokingly at that lunch-party of Sam’s where we first discussed the comet. We started out from central Spain, of course, and I took her up to 30,000; then just ran her round in wide circles. At the moment of impact we were chucked about as though the plane was a piece of paper in a high wind, but I managed to pull her out of it at about 9,000, and when we went down below the clouds to see what had happened we found that Spain had disappeared and we were in the middle of the ocean. I turned her then and headed her eastwards, but we had to fly nearly 400 miles before we came down and I landed her on a grassy plateau without having the faintest idea where we’d got to. After walking a few miles we struck a village and, would you believe it, I’m damned if we weren’t in Norway!’

      Hemmingway explained Gervaise’s theory of the world having been thrown right off its axis, which would have flung Spain twenty degrees farther south while the plane had been bucketing in the air, and Rupert went on:

      ‘By the mercy of God I decided to fly home to England the following afternoon, so we were in the air again when that huge wave came crashing along but I succeeded in finding a high stretch of land that the deluge hadn’t submerged, somewhere up in the highlands of Scotland. It was only an island, but it was enough, and with the stores in the plane, some mountain-sheep that had escaped the deluge, and a crofter’s potato-field we were lucky enough to find, we managed to exist somehow until the flood went down. After that the problem was petrol, and for the last month we’ve had one hell of a time scouring frozen villages, getting a tin here and a tin there until we could collect enough to fly the plane down to a decent climate.’

      He had hardly finished speaking when Gervaise, Sam and Margery appeared in the distance. From Calais, which they had found that morning, they had seen the plane come down and had hurried out across the frozen sea towards it.

      Ten minutes later they were all taking off their furs in the glorious warmth of the big, engine-heated cabin of the plane. Sam and Hemmingway were smiling at each other unable to find words to express their joy at their reunion. Gervaise only stopped hugging his cherished Lavina to spread out a map on her lap so that they could choose an oasis on the coast of equatorial Africa where they would be able to live on fish and dates until the plague from the dead bodies of men and animals in the towns of the equatorial belt had abated.

      Rupert wheeled the big plane and taxied it across the hard snow. With its burden of three gloriously happy pairs of lovers and the gentle, elderly man who had led those he loved out of the land of death towards a new beginning, it rose gracefully into the clear, bright sky and sped south—south—south—to the Sunshine.

      A Note on the Author

      DENNIS WHEATLEY

      Dennis Wheatley (1897 – 1977)was an English author whose prolific output of stylish thrillers and occult novels made him one of the world’s best-selling writers from the 1930s through the 1960s.

      Wheatley was the eldest of three children, and his parents were the owners of Wheatley & Son of Mayfair, a wine business. He admitted to little aptitude for schooling, and was expelled from Dulwich College, London. In 1919 he assumed management of the family wine business but in 1931, after a decline in business due to the depression, he began writing.

      His first book, The Forbidden Territory, became a bestseller overnight, and since then his books have sold over 50 million copies worldwide. During the 1960s, his publishers sold one million copies of Wheatley titles per year, and his Gregory Sallust series was one of the main inspirations for Ian Fleming’s James Bond stories.

      During the Second World War, Wheatley was a member of the London Controlling Section, which secretly coordinated strategic military deception and cover plans. His literary talents gained him employment with planning staffs for the War Office. He wrote numerous papers for the War Office, including suggestions for dealing with a German invasion of Britain.

      Dennis Wheatley died on 11th November 1977. During his life he wrote over 70 books and sold over 50 million copies.

      Discover books by Dennis Wheatley published by Bloomsbury Reader at

      www.bloomsbury.com/DennisWheatley

      Duke de Richleau

      The Forbidden Territory

      The Devil Rides Out

      The Golden Spaniard

      Three Inquisitive People

      Strange Conflict

      Codeword Golden Fleece

      The Second Seal

      The Prisoner in the Mask

      Vendetta in Spain

      Dangerous Inheritance

      Gateway to Hell

      Gregory Sallust

      Black August

      Contraband

      The Scarlet Impostor

      Faked Passports

      The Black Baroness

      V for Vengeance

      Come into My Parlour

      The Island Where Time Stands Still

      Traitors' Gate

      They Used Dark Forces

      The White Witch of the South Seas

      Julian Day

      The Quest of Julian Day

      The Sword of Fate

      Bill for the Use of a Body

      Roger Brook

      The Launching of Roger Brook

      The Shadow of Tyburn Tree

      The Rising Storm

      The Man Who Killed the King

      The Dark Secret of Josephine

      The Rape of Venice

      The Sultan's Daughter

      The Wanton Princess

      Evil in a Mask

      The Ravishing of Lady Mary Ware

      The Irish Witch

      Desperate Measures

      Molly Fountain

      To the Devil a Daughter

      The Satanist

      Lost World

      They Found Atlantis

      Uncharted Seas

      The Man Who Missed the War

      Espionage

      Mayhem in Greece

      The Eunuch of Stamboul

      The Fabulous Valley

      The Strange Story of Linda Lee

      Such Power is Dangerous

      The Secret War

      Science Fiction

      Sixty Days to Live

      Star of Ill-Omen

     
    Black Magic

      The Haunting of Toby Jugg

      The KA of Gifford Hillary

      Unholy Crusade

      Short Stories

      Mediterranean Nights

      Gunmen, Gallants and Ghosts

      This electronic edition published in 2014 by Bloomsbury Reader

      Bloomsbury Reader is a division of Bloomsbury Publishing Plc, 50 Bedford Square,

      London WC1B 3DP

      First published in 1939 by Hutchinson & Co. Ltd

      Copyright © 1939 Dennis Wheatley

      All rights reserved

      You may not copy, distribute, transmit, reproduce or otherwise

      make available this publication (or any part of it) in any form, or by any means

      (including without limitation electronic, digital, optical, mechanical, photocopying,

      printing, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the

      publisher. Any person who does any unauthorised act in relation to this publication

      may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

      The moral right of the author is asserted.

      eISBN: 9781448212866

      Visit www.bloomsburyreader.com to find out more about our authors and their books

      You will find extracts, author interviews, author events and you can sign up for

      newsletters to be the first to hear about our latest releases and special offers.

     

     

     



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