The heat was intense. At about a quarter to twelve they came to a place where a little stream ran beside the road, and here there was another block of many traffic blocks caused by the drivers of the farm wagons who stopped to water their horses. Howard decided to make a halt; he pushed the perambulator a little way over the field away from the road to where a little sandy spit ran out into the stream beneath the trees.
'We'll stop here for déjeuner,' he said to the children. 'Go and wash your hands and faces in the water.' He took the food and sat down in the shade; he was very tired, but there was still five miles or more to Montargis. Surely there would be a motor-bus there?
Ronnie said: 'May I paddle, Mr Howard?'
He roused himself. 'Bathe if you want to,' he said. 'It's hot enough.'
'May I really bathe?'
Sheila echoed: 'May I really bathe, too?'
He got up from the grass. 'I don't see why not,' he said slowly. 'Take your things off and have a bathe before déjeuner, if you want to.'
The English children needed no further encouragement. Ronnie was out of his few clothes and splashing in the water in a few seconds; Sheila got into a tangle with her Liberty bodice and had to be helped. Howard watched them for a minute, amused. Then he turned to Rose. 'Would you like to go in, too?' he said in French.
She shook her head in scandalised amazement. 'It is not nice, that, monsieur. Not at all.'
He glanced at the little naked bodies gleaming in the sun. 'No,' he said reflectively, 'I suppose it's not. Still, they may as well go on now they've started.' He turned to Pierre. 'Would you like to bathe, Pierre?'
The little boy in grey stared round-eyed at the English children. Won, merci, monsieur,' he said.
Howard said: 'Wouldn't you like to take your shoes off and have a paddle, then? In the water?' The child looked doubtfully at him, and then at Rose. 'It's nice in the water.' He turned to Rose. 'Take him and let him put his feet in the water, Rose.'
She took the little boy's shoes and socks off and they went down and paddled at the very edge of the water. Howard went back to the shade of the trees and sat down again where he could see the children. Presently Sheila splashed a little water at the paddlers; he heard la petite Rose scolding. He saw the little boy in grey, standing in an inch of water, stoop and put his hand in and splash a little back. And then, among the chatter, he heard a shrill little sound that was quite new to him.
It was Pierre laughing.
Behind his back he heard a man say: 'God love a duck! Look at them bleeding kids - just like Brighton.'
Another said: 'Never mind about the muckin' kids. Look at the mud they've stirred up. We can't put that stuff in the radiator. Better go on up-stream a bit. And get a move on or we'll be here all the muckin' night.'
Howard swung round and there, before him in the field, were two men, dirty and unshaven, in British Royal Air Force uniform. One was a corporal and one a driver.
He started up. 'I'm English,' he burst out. 'Have you got a car?'
The corporal stared at him, amazed. 'And who the muckin' hell might you be?'
'I'm English. These children are English, two of them. We're trying to get through to Chartres.'
'Chartres?' The corporal was puzzled.
'Chartres, 'e means,' the driver said. 'I see that oh the map.'
Howard said: 'You've got a car?'
'Workshop lorry,' said the corporal. He swung round on the driver. 'Get the muckin' water and start filling up, Bert.' The driver went off up-stream swinging his can.
The old man said: 'Can you give us a lift?'
'What, you and all them kids? I dunno about that, mate. How far do you want to go?'
'I'm trying to get back to England.'
'You ain't the only one.'
'I only want a lift to Chartres. They say that trains are running from there to St Malo.'
'You don't want to believe all these Froggies say. Tried to tell us it was all right goin' through a place called Susan yesterday, and when we got there it was full of muckin' Jerries! All loosing off their hipes at Ben and me like we was Aunt Sally! Ever drive a ten-ton Leyland, mate?'
The old man shook his head.
'Well, she don't handle like an Austin Seven. Bert stuck 'is foot down and I got the old Bren going over the windshield and we went round the roundabout like it was the banking at Brooklands, and out the way we come, and all we got was two bullets in the motor generator what makes the juice for lighting and that, and a little chip out of the aft leg of the Herbert, what won't make any odds if the officer don't notice it. But fancy saying we could go through there! Susan the name was, or something of that.'
The old man blinked at him. 'Where are you making for?'
The corporal said: 'Place called Brest. Not the kind of name I'd like to call a town, myself, but that's the way these Froggies are. Officer said to go there if we got cut off, and we'd get the lorry shipped back home from there.'
Howard said: 'Take us with you.'
The other looked uncertainly at the children. 'I dunno what to say. I dunno if there'd be room. Them kids ain't English.'
'Two of them are. They're speaking French now, but that's because they've been brought up in France.'
The driver passed them with his dripping can, going towards the road.
'What are the other two?'
They're French.'
'I ain't taking no Froggie kids along,' the corporal said. 'I ain't got no room, for one thing, and they're just as well left in their own place, to my way of thinking. I don't mind obliging you and the two English ones.'
Howard said: 'You don't understand. The two French ones are in my care.' He explained the situation to the man.
'It's no good, mate,' he said. 'I ain't got room for all of you.'
Howard said slowly: 'I see...'He stared for a moment absently at the traffic on the road. 'If it's a matter of room,' he said, 'will you take the four children through to Brest with you? They won't take up much room. I'll give you a letter for the RTO at Brest, and a letter to my solicitor in England. And I can give you money for anything they'll want.'
The other wrinkled his brows. 'Leaving you here?'
'I'll be all right. In fact, I'll get along quicker without them.'
'You mean take them two Froggie kids along 'stead of you? Is that what you're getting at?
'I'll be all right. I know France very well.'
'Don't talk so bloody soft. What 'Id I do with four muckin' kids and only Bert along o' me?' He swung round on his heel. 'Come on, then. Get them kids dressed toot and sweet - I ain't going to wait all night. And if I finds them messing with the Herbert I'll tan their little bottoms for them, straight I will.'