So it had happened.

It was not an unforeseen event, and hence not a total surprise.  On the contrary, they had already prepared for it; they had been awaiting it for years.  But like everything that alters the course of one's destiny and throws one's life along a new direction, it came as a shock.

Lovis was leaning against the windowsill, and the bluish light penetrating the shock-proof panes picked out the contours of his face: smooth forehead, prominent nose, thin, closed lips, and the triangle of a goatee beard.

Millions knew this face, and millions feared and hated it.

Lovis had not turned around when Eric entered.  He had only said, "It's happened at last."

Eric needed no further explanation.  He knew what had happened, and what was to be done.  Thousands of times he had imagined this situation, and now it had happened, exactly in the way he had described it to himself.  So he had already practiced all his moves.  Thousands of times in his imagination he had hurried along the route; he knew every step, every dodge, every escape door available to them; he knew all the difficulties and tricks involved in the escape; he had seen to it that there was a supply of provisions, weapons, and false identity tags.  He had worked out a timetable, allowing for every possible complication or delay.  There had been nothing else for him to do but prepare himself for these two days, and after it was over he would again have nothing to do.  His whole existence was directed toward this event.

But although it was just as he had expected, there wet also a difference - the difference which always exists between anticipation and realization.  He had not expected himself to be hesitating at this moment, before plunging into the series of events that would end this short period in the history of Lovis Holder.  Eric found this hesitation inexplicable.

But Lovis felt that things were going exactly the way he had expected.  He was sure that Eric would rescue him, and he knew roughly how.  Because of his confidence in the man, he did not consider this brief silence to be of significance.  Lovis looked down on the gigantic courtyard, which was surrounded on three sides by wings of the palace, and saw there echoes of the past: weaving masses of people and the gleaming pattern of the parade of troops, the ceremonial pageantry for the arrival of the head of state, the public proceedings against agitators traitors, spies, and saboteurs.  He heard the voices of thousands raised in enthusiasm during the marches and parades, and their violent shouting at the criminals.  He leaned a little too heavily against windowsill.  The sware below him was empty.  Only every now and then a few armed men hurried along the walls of the houses, and then disappeared into one of the many doors leading to the underground shelters.