Assignment in Brittany (18 page)

Anne looked at Hearne for a moment. “I see,” she said. “Well, I am sure he’s already taking risks. He has a wireless set, and he hid it when the Germans were inquiring about them yesterday. He listens to London. He’s making a report each day, and he has already chosen the men who are going to pass the news by word of mouth. Then we’ll all know the true news. He says that is important. He says all the little things are important. Little things he says, would add up to something bigger.” Anne’s voice held a note of wonder which once would have made Hearne smile. But now he knew the value of little things in the smothering blanket of enemy occupation. Anne was still talking. “He heard from London that there are Frenchmen who are calling themselves Free Frenchmen. They are fighting on, and they’ve their own ships and their own army. And some of the colonies are going to join them.”

Hearne, watching Madame Corlay’s expression, had his belief in little things such as wireless sets strengthened.

“I’ve got to go to the village now,” Hearne said. “Will you come with me, Anne?”

“Me?” The grey-blue eyes widened. When she smiled like that the expressionless mask vanished, and her face was suddenly and charmingly alive.

“Yes, I want you to help me, Anne. I cannot be seen talking
to Kerénor for certain reasons. And yet I want to give him a message. So when I am in the village will you try to see Kerénor, and tell him some things?”

The smile on Anne’s face faded, but the eyes were watching him gravely and honestly. She hid her disappointment well.

“Now listen carefully, Anne. Tell him he is right: that the little things will grow into big things. Tell him he must get the men together whom he can trust, and as long as the Germans think they are holding Breton nationalist meetings they will be able to get together quite safely. Tell him that he must be careful, for the Gestapo are watching him; and if he doesn’t co-operate he is in danger. And tell him that, although he has always hated me and I’ve never liked him until now, this is what the Nazis want. They hope we’ll hate and distrust each other, so that they can rule us easily. And if they rule us easily, that helps them in their fight against the rest of the world which is still free. So Kerénor’s big job is now to unite every one in the village. All their differences and quarrels must be forgotten if they are ever to know freedom again. When he has united the village, he can start uniting people in other villages. He must choose men who can be
trusted
to help him. And the movement will spread. And the Germans won’t be able to kill some of us without reprisals being taken against them. If we are united, they have more to fear and to worry about. Can you remember that?”

Anne nodded, and repeated his words quickly in obvious willingness to help. What he had said had excited her. She added, “Perhaps I can be of help too!” Her eyes were shining at the thought.

“But always be careful, Anne. We are fighting against a stranglehold. One slip, and we shall have our necks broken. And there is one thing more which you must remember. Never forget this.” He paused to let his next sentence have added emphasis. “Do not trust Elise, or any of her friends. She is in German pay.”

He might have overturned the cabinet which held all Madame Corlay’s treasured crystal. The effect on the two women was as spectacular.

“Elise...” Anne’s soft child-like face had frozen; her nostrils dilated. And it wasn’t only the fact that Elise was a traitor which had transformed her. It was the fact that he should have mentioned the hated name, mentioned it so coldly and so damningly.

“We must leave now for the village,” Hearne said. “Might the American come in here to talk to you? Keep him with you until I get back. It would be dangerous for us all if he were to go out for a stroll. And don’t tell him that I’ve gone to the village. He might get worried and come after me. He is getting restless now that his feet are better.”

Madame Corlay could only nod her answer. The name of Elise still held her silent. In condemning Elise, Hearne had condemned Bertrand Corlay. Now she knew everything. Anyway, thought Hearne, even if something goes wrong tonight and I don’t get back to Saint-Déodat, I have warned them of their greatest danger there.

He looked at the faces of the two women. He knew that he had given his warning to the right people. They would not disbelieve it. They would not forget it.

14

COLLABORATION

It was a strange walk to the village. When the stone bridge was crossed, Hearne breathed a sigh of relief. He felt he had performed just as neat a piece of imaginative realism as ever in his life. For Anne had asked about Dunkirk, and as they crossed the calm fields he had answered with a description of the Bordeaux evacuation (which he
did
know, at least), and multiplied its horror by ten to achieve the chaos of Dunkirk. Judging from the look in Anne’s eyes, and the tightening of her lips, he had succeeded well enough. After that, they finished their journey in silence. Hearne found himself admiring a girl who had the sensibility neither to exclaim nor to commiserate.

They halted awkwardly at the corner of the market square. Anne seemed to realise that this was where he intended to leave her. She smoothed her hair nervously with her hand, half smiled, took a hesitating step away from him. Hearne
felt he was being inadequate. He reached out and touched her arm lightly. “I must try to get some brandy for my mother,” he said, “before it all disappears. I’ll see you later, Anne.” He was relieved, and yet somehow dismayed, to see her smile become wholehearted.

“Yes,” she said. “Later.”

And then he noticed the appearance of a frown between the level eyebrows, and his eyes followed the sudden shift in her glance. Outside the Hôtel Perro, a small thin man was standing. He was soberly dressed in black. But neither by his clothes nor by his sharp features could Hearne identify him. Perhaps he was one of Corlay’s so-called “negligibles” in the village. Whoever he was, he had noticed them too. He spat out the cigarette stub from between his lips, stepped on it deliberately, and then with his hands still in his pockets and his eyes on Hearne he sauntered into the hotel. Hearne was left with the feeling that the man had known him. He kept his worry out of his eyes, looked questioningly at Anne.

She shrugged her shoulders. “He doesn’t look like a Boche,” she said, “but who can tell what kind of visitors we have nowadays?”

So the man was a stranger to Saint-Déodat. Hearne’s worry increased, but he shrugged his shoulders too and said, “Well, I’ll see you later. Take care.”

She laughed suddenly at the seriousness of his face, and then became dutifully grave. “You must take care yourself,” she answered, and for a moment Hearne’s breath stopped. “We all must take care near this place,” she added, nodding over her shoulder at the hotel. “Why don’t you send Henri for the brandy? He’s too old to be recruited for a labour squad.”

Hearne smiled and said, “Last time he came down here, he got drunk.” She laughed at that, and then she was walking quickly across the square towards the Widow Picrel’s shop.

Hearne’s pace was slower. There was danger in the hotel, more danger than Anne had even thought. But once he faced the yellow-screened door, he pushed it quickly open, as if by hurry he might get Elise’s message and leave before he met the man again.

The bar was empty. As Hearne’s footsteps sounded on the bare floor, a door behind the counter opened and Madame Perro appeared. She was as completely waved and corseted as the last time he had seen her. She concealed her welcome as efficiently as her surprise. She reached into the pocket of her apron and produced an envelope. As she handed it over the counter, she unbent enough to incline her head towards the restaurant.

“He’s in there,” she said, and then turned back to the doorway through which she had entered. It closed decisively behind her spacious hips. She thinks that Corlay is too insignificant for her Elise, Hearne guessed: she sees bigger fish floating round the hotel now. He looked down at the envelope. In the same square, back-sloping, thick down-stroked letters which spelled Corlay’s name was an urgent command across the top of the paper.
“Open at once!”
It was the Elise touch all right.

Hearne obeyed. Inside the envelope were the new names he had been promised, along with the numbers which represented their districts on Corlay’s map. But what held his attention was the hastily written postscript. “Number 8 is here unexpectedly. See him before he leaves.”

Well, thought Hearne, well... He wished to heaven he were now walking across the stone bridge. If only he could have sent
someone else down to the hotel for this envelope, if only— But what was the good of thinking all this? It only wasted time, and he knew it was short now.
“He’s in there. See him.”
He half closed his eyes to recall the list of numbered fifth-columnists which he had found in Corlay’s bookcase. Number 8. That was Dol. The name was...and then his memory, perhaps because he was urging it so strongly, went blank on the name. It stayed tantalisingly on the tip of his tongue. It began with B. B... Dol was Number 8, Number 8 was B...

And then he heard the parrot-like screech of the restaurant door. He thrust the letter into his pocket, and turned round.

The small man in the black suit was standing there. He still had his hands in his pockets. A fresh cigarette drooped from the corner of the thin lips which stretched tightly between the long jaw and the pointed nose. His head motioned back over his shoulder. Hearne nodded, and came forward. The man let the door, held open by his elbow, creak into place as he turned back into the restaurant. Hearne dodged the swing of the door in time, and pushed it open for himself. Charming fellow, he was thinking as he reached the table, and sat down to face the long jaw over the checked cloth. The man had chosen a table set in the corner of the wall, where no one looking through the door or the window would see them. But that wasn’t the only good thing about the table’s position, Hearne thought. In this corner, none of the direct light from the windows would reach him. He sat with his arms folded so that the size of his hands was hidden. He kept his feet well under the table and pretended to study the salt-cellar and the advertising ashtray. The man’s eyes were so deep a brown in colour that some of the pigment from the iris seemed to have spilled over and turned the white into yellow. Above the eyes, the forehead was high and slanting, the hair was dark and receding. The sallow face was watching Hearne with distrust. There was no doubt of that. Hearne restrained himself, and went on looking at the ashtray impassively.

“Well,” the man said at last. “Surprised?” The voice was high-pitched, almost fretful.

“Yes,” admitted Hearne with considerable truth. He was fascinated by the cigarette, still held in place by the colourless lips even as they moved.

“So now we are having our first meeting under the new régime. It is certainly safer, anyway.”

“Yes,” Hearne agreed, “but is it wise to have one here at this time? I thought we were to avoid being seen with anyone at the hotel, meanwhile. We aren’t to come out into the open yet. Later, but not yet.”

“Wise? Sitting in this dump in this God-forgotten hole? No one comes in here any more. They are even avoiding this side of the square. And why do you think I didn’t talk to you when you were out there with that girl? Who was she, anyway?”

“Anne Pinot.”

“Oh.” The truculence in the man’s voice gave way to interest. He had obviously known something of Corlay’s private affairs. How much? And was that a sign of real friendship with Corlay, or did the man’s knowledge come from gossip? His next words with their undisguised sneer gave Hearne a clue. “Oh, your fiancée?” The man was obviously no real friend.

Hearne remained silent, his brow in the frown which Corlay had adopted whenever he was reluctant to talk.

“Still unwilling to take a joke?” The man laughed maliciously, showing an uneven row of fine pointed teeth, complete with
handsome gold fillings. The cigarette clung to the moist lip. “Clever chap, aren’t you, Corlay? We always used to laugh at the way you played up to the women. But you got results.” He looked round the empty restaurant with undisguised scorn. “You got
this
made the headquarters?”

So that was what was annoying this man. He had, no doubt, thought that his own district would have made handsomer headquarters. Instead, he now felt subsidiary to Corlay, and he didn’t like it.

Hearne watched the spreading brown stain on the chewed end of the cigarette. “There are more important reasons than that,” he said coldly, “or this place would not have been made the headquarters. Why did you come here?”

The man accepted the change of subject quite as unsuspectingly as Hearne had hoped he would. A change of subject was only natural after the implied snub which had just been administered.

“I came to verify the points in a letter which I received yesterday.”

The bitter voice told Hearne as much about the letter as he needed to know. The points in the letter had so confounded this man that he had come here at once to make quite sure there had been no mistake. He couldn’t quite believe that the headquarters of the organisation, which Hans and Elise had been so skilfully nursing, should really be established here.

Hearne said, “I hope the trip has been worth your while. What instructions did you get?”

“Plenty.” The man jabbed the sodden cigarette-end into the ashtray, and lit another cigarette. He didn’t offer one to Hearne. “Plenty. Including the instructions to wait for you
here until you came down this afternoon, so that we could compare notes. What are your plans?”

“Just what I’ve been told. I’m working towards results by stimulating a series of Breton nationalist meetings, and by accenting the importance of co-operation for the achievement of our ideals.”

“That would carry you through here all right,” the man assented gloomily. “But down in the towns it is going to be more difficult. Here, the people are half asleep. Here, the Germans haven’t interfered much with the life of the district so far. But in Dol it is different. They have been there for some weeks now. They are using many of its people in construction work, and the women don’t like it any more than the men. And then I’m told to gather them all together under the banner of co-operation! I tell you, that can’t be done unless the Germans don’t interfere with the people’s existence; and they cannot but interfere in important centres, where large-scale preparations have got to have extra labour. We’ll have to use other methods in those towns, I tell you.”