Pied Piper

       And after lunch, sitting round the littered table over coffee, while the children played together in a corner of the salon, he discussed his future with them.

       'I wanted to get back to England, of course,' he said. 'I still want to. But at the moment it seems difficult.'

       Madame Rougeron said: 'There are no boats to England now, m'sieur. The Germans have stopped everything.'

       He nodded. 'I was afraid so,' he said quietly. 'It would have been better if I had gone back to Switzerland.'

       The girl shrugged her shoulders. 'It is always easy to be wise later,' she said. 'At the time, a week ago, we all thought that Switzerland would be invaded. I think so still. I do not think that Switzerland would be at all a good place for you to go.'

       There was a silence.

       Madame said: 'These other children, monsieur. The one called Pierre and the other little Dutchman. Would you have taken them to England?'

       Sheila, bored with playing on the floor, came up and pulled his sleeve, distracting hun. 'I want to go out for a walk, M'sieur Howard, may we go out for a walk and see some tanks?'

       He put his arm round her absently. 'Not just now,' he said. 'Stay quiet for a little. We'll go out presently.' He turned to Madame Rougeron. 'I don't see that I can leave them, unless with their relations,' he said. 'I have been thinking about this a good deal. It might be very difficult to find their relations at this time.'

       The mother said: 'That is very true.'

       Pursuing his train of thought, he said: 'If I could get them to England, I think I'd send them over to America until the war is over. They would be quite safe there.' He explained. 'My daughter, who lives in the United States, has a big house on Long Island. She would make a home for them till the war ends, and then we could try and find their parents.'

       The girl said: 'That would be Madame Costello?'

       He turned to her faintly surprised. 'Yes, that is her married name. She has a little boy herself, about their age. She would be very good to them.'

       'I am sure of that, m'sieur.'

       For the moment the difficulty of getting them to England escaped him. He said: 'It's going to be practically impossible to find the little Dutchman's parents, I'm afraid. We don't even know his name.'

       Beneath his arm, Sheila said: 'I know his name.'

       He stared down at her. 'You do?' And then, remembering Pierre, he said, 'What do you think he's called?'

       She said: 'Willem. Not William, just Willem.'

       Howard said: 'Has he got another name?'

       'I don't think so. Just Willem.'

       Ronnie looked up from the floor. 'You are a story,' he said without heat. 'He has got another name, Mr Howard. He's called Eybe.' He explained. 'Just like I'm called Ronnie Cavanagh, so he's called Willem Eybe.'

       'Oh...' said Sheila.

       Madame said: 'But if he can't speak any French or English, how did you find that out?'

       The children stared at her, uncomprehending, a little impatient of adult density. 'He told us,' they explained.

       Howard said: 'Did he tell you anything more about himself?' There was a silence. 'Did he say who his daddy or his mummy were, or where he came from?'

       The children stared at him, awkward and embarrassed. The old man said: 'Suppose you ask him where his daddy is?'

       Sheila said: 'But we can't understand what he says.' The others stayed silent.

       Howard said: 'Never mind, then.' He turned to the two women. 'They'll probably know all about him in a day or two,' he said. 'It takes a little time.'

       The girl nodded. 'Perhaps we can find somebody who speaks Dutch.'

       Her mother said: 'That might be dangerous. It is not a thing to be decided lightly, that. One must think of the Germans.'

       She turned to Howard: 'So, monsieur,' she said, 'it is clear that you are in a difficulty. What is it that you want to do?'

       He smiled slowly. 'I want to get to England with these children, madame,' he said. 'Only that.'

       He thought for a minute. 'Also,' he said gently, 'I do not wish to get my friends into trouble.' He rose from his chair. 'It has been most kind of you to give us déjeuner,' he said. 'I am indeed sorry to have missed seeing monsieur le colonel. I hope very much that when we meet again you will be reunited.'

       The girl sprang up. 'You must not go,' she said. 'It is not possible at all, that.' She swung round on her mother. 'We must devise something, Mother.'

       The older woman shrugged her shoulders. 'It is impossible. The Germans are everywhere.'

       The girl said: 'If father were here, he would devise something.'

       There was a silence in the room, broken only by Ronnie and Rose chanting in a low tone their little song about the numerals. Faintly, from the town, came the air of a band playing in the main square.

       Howard said: 'You must not put yourselves to inconvenience on our account. I assure you, we can get along very well.'

       The girl said: 'But monsieur - your clothes alone - they are not in the French fashion. One would say at once that you are an Englishman, to look at you.'

       He glanced down ruefully; it was very true. He had been proud of his taste in Harris tweeds, but now they were quite undeniably unsuitable for the occasion. 'I suppose so,' he said. 'It would be better if I got some French clothes, for a start.'

       She said: 'My father would be glad to lend you an old suit, if he were here.' She turned to her mother. 'The brown suit, Mother.'

       Madame shook her head. 'The grey is better. It is less conspicuous.' She turned to the old man. 'Sit down again,' she said quietly. 'Nicole is right. We must devise something. Perhaps it will be better if you stay here for the night.'

       He sat down again. 'That would be too much trouble for you,' he said. 'But I should be grateful for the clothes.'

       Sheila came up to him again, fretful. 'Can't we go out now and look at the tanks, Mr Howard?' she said in English, complaining, 'I do want to go out.'

       'Presently,' he said. He turned to the two women, speaking in French. 'They want to go out.'

       The girl got to her feet. 'I will take them for a walk,' she said. 'You stay here and rest.'

       After a little demur he agreed to this; he was very tired. 'One thing,' he said. 'Perhaps while you are out it would be possible for me to borrow an old razor?'

       The girl led him to the bathroom and produced all that he needed. 'Have no fear for the little ones,' she said. 'I will not let them get into trouble.'

       He turned to her, razor in hand. 'You must be very careful not to speak English, mademoiselle,' he said. 'The two English children understand and speak French very well. Sometimes they speak English, but that is dangerous now. Speak to them in French all the time.'

       She laughed up at him. 'Have no fear, cher Monsieur Howard,' she said. 'I do not know any English. Only a phrase or two.' She thought for a minute, and said carefully, in English, 'A little bit of what you fancy does you good.' And then, in French again, 'That is what one says about the apéritif?'

       'Yes,' he said. He stared at her, puzzled again.

       She did not notice. 'And to rebuke anybody,' she said, 'you "tear him off a strip". That is all I know of English, monsieur. The children will be safe with me.'