"I see," murmured Lucile, "I see."

"Then he jumps out of the window and runs off, the Germans right behind. But he knows the place better than them, as you can imagine. They haven't found him yet. The storm was so bad they couldn't see two steps in front of them, thank goodness. Bonnet's laid out on my bed, where they put him. If they find Benoît, they'll shoot him. He might have been shot for hiding a gun, but if that was all he'd done we could have hoped he'd get off. Now, well we know what to expect, don't we?"

"But why did he kill Bonnet?"

"He must be the one who denounced him, Madame Lucile. He lives with us. He could have found the gun. These Germans, they're all traitors. And that one… was chasing after me, you see… and my husband knew it. Maybe he wanted to punish him, maybe he said to himself, 'Might as well… then he won't be here to play up to my wife when I'm not around.' Maybe… And he really hated them, Madame Lucile. He was longing to kill one of them."

"They've been looking for him all day long, you say? You're absolutely sure they haven't found him yet?"

"I'm sure," said Madeleine after a moment's silence.

"Have you seen him?"

"Yes. This is life or death, Madame Lucile. You… you won't say a word?"

"Oh, Madeleine…"

"All right, then. He's hiding at Louise's place, our neighbour whose husband is a prisoner of war."

"They're going to turn the village upside down, they're going to look everywhere."

"Thank goodness they were requisitioning the horses today. All the officers are away. The soldiers are waiting for orders. Tomorrow they'll start the search. But Madame Lucile, farms have plenty of hiding places. They've had escaped prisoners right there under their noses plenty of times. Louise will hide him good, but it's just, well, it's her kids: the kids play with the Germans, they aren't afraid of them, and they talk, they're too little to understand. 'I know the chance I'm taking,' Louise told me. 'I'm doing it willingly for your husband, just like you would do it for mine, but nonetheless, it would be better to find another house where he could hide until he can get away from here.' They'll be watching all the roads now, won't they. But the Germans won't be here for ever. What we need is a big house where there aren't any children."

"Here?" Lucile said, staring at her.

"Here, yes, I thought…"

"You do know that a German officer lives here?"

"They're everywhere. But the officer hardly ever comes out of his room, does he? And I've heard… forgive me, Madame Lucile, I've heard he's in love with you and that you can do whatever you like. I'm not offending you, am I? They're men like the rest, I know, and they get bored. So if you said to him, 'I don't want your soldiers upsetting everything in the house. It's ridiculous. You know very well I'm not hiding anyone. First of all, I'd be too scared to…' Things that women can say… And in this house that's so big, so empty, it would be easy to find a hiding place, some little corner. And then there's a chance he'd be saved, the only chance. You might say that if you get caught, you risk going to prison, perhaps even being killed. With these brutes it's possible. But if we French don't help one another, who will? Louise, she has kids, she does, and she wasn't scared. You're all alone."

"I'm not afraid," Lucile said slowly.

She thought about it. The danger for Benoît would be the same whether he was in her house or anywhere else. What about the danger for her? What's my life worth anyway? she thought with unintentional despair. Really, it had no importance. She suddenly thought of those days in June 1940 (two years, only two years ago). Then, too, amid the chaos, the danger, she hadn't thought about herself. She had let herself be carried along by a fast-flowing river.

"There's my mother-in-law," she murmured, "but she doesn't leave her room any more. She wouldn't see anything. And there's Marthe."

"Marthe's family, Madame. She's my husband's cousin. There's no danger there. We trust our family. But where could he hide?"

"I was thinking maybe the blue bedroom near the attic, the old playroom that has a kind of alcove… But then, but then, my poor Madeleine, you mustn't have any illusions. If fate is against us they'll find him here as well as anywhere, but if it's God's will, he'll escape. After all, German soldiers have been killed in France before and they've not always found the ones who did it. We must do everything we can to hide him… and… just hope, don't you think?"

"Yes, Madame, hope…" said Madeleine and the tears she could no longer hold back flowed slowly down her cheeks.

Lucile put her arms round Madeleine and hugged her. "Go and get him. Go through the Maie woods. It's still raining. No one will be out. Listen to me, trust no one, German or French. I'll wait for you at the little garden door. I'll go and warn Marthe."

"Thank you, Madame," Madeleine stammered.

"Go quickly. Hurry."

Madeleine opened the door without making a sound and slipped out into the deserted wet garden where tears seemed to drip from the trees. An hour later Lucile let Benoît in through the little green door that opened on to the Maie woods. The storm was over but an angry wind continued to rage.

19

From her room, Madame Angellier could hear the local policeman shouting in front of the town hall: "Public Announcement by Order of German Headquarters…" Worried faces appeared at all the windows. "What is it now?" everyone thought with fear and hatred. Their fear of the Germans was so great that even when German Headquarters ordered the local police to instruct the villagers to destroy rats or have their children vaccinated, they wouldn't relax until long after the final drum roll had ceased and they had asked the educated people in the village-the pharmacist, the notary or the police chief-to repeat what had just been announced.

"Is that all? Are you sure that's all? They're not taking anything else away from us?"

They gradually calmed down.

"Oh, good," they said, "good, that's fine then! But I wonder why it's their business…"

This would have made everything all right if they hadn't added, "They're our rats and our children. What right have they got to destroy our rats and vaccinate our children? What's it to them?"

The Germans present in the square took it upon themselves to explain the orders.

"We must have everyone in good health now, French and German."

The villagers quickly conceded, with an air of feigned submission ("Oh, they smile like slaves," thought the elder Madame Angellier): "Of course… Good idea… It's in everybody's best interest… We understand."

And each one of them then went home, threw the rat poison in the fire and hurried to the doctor to ask him not to vaccinate their child because he was "just getting over the mumps," or he wasn't strong enough because they didn't have enough food. Others said straight out, "We'd rather there were one or two sick kids: maybe it'll get rid of the Fritz." Alone in the square, the Germans looked around them benevolently and thought that, little by little, the ice was breaking between conquered and conqueror.

On this particular day, however, none of the Germans was smiling or talking to the local people. They stood very straight, a hard stare on their pale faces. The policeman had just played a final drum roll. He was a rather handsome man from the Midi, always happy to be surrounded by women; he was obviously enjoying the importance of what he was about to say. He put his drumsticks under his arm and, with the grace and skill of a magician, he began to read. His attractive, rich, masculine voice echoed in the silence:

A member of the German army has been murdered: an officer of the Wehrmacht was killed in a cowardly way by one Benoît Sabarie, residing at… in the district of Bussy.