He smiled gently. 'He was like that... Did you enjoy yourself?'
She said: 'It was marvellous. It was a fine, sunny day with a fresh breeze, and we drove out to Orly, to the hangar of the flying club. And there, there was a beautiful aeroplane waiting for us, with the engine running.'
Her face clouded a little, and then she smiled. 'I do not know very much about flying,' she said frankly. 'It was very chic, with red leather seats and chromium steps to make it easy to get in. But John was so rude.'
The old man said: 'Rude?'
'He said it looked like a bed bug, monsieur, but not so that the mechanics could hear what he said. I told him that I was very cross to hear him say such a thing, when they had been so kind to lend it to us. He only laughed. And then, when we were flying over Paris at grande vitesse, a hundred and twenty kilometres an hour or more, he turned to me and said: "And what's more, it flies like one!" Imagine that! Our aeroplanes are very good, monsieur. Everybody in France says so.'
Howard smiled again. 'I hope you put him in his place,' he said.
She laughed outright; it was the first time that he had heard that happen. 'That was not possible, Monsieur Howard,' she said. 'Never could I put him in his place, as you say.'
He said: 'I'm sorry about that.' He paused, and then he said: 'I have never flown over Paris. Is it beautiful?'
She shrugged her shoulders. 'Beautiful? I do not think that anything is beautiful seen from the air, except the clouds. But that day was marvellous, because there were those big, fleecy clouds that John called cum... something.'
'Cumulus?'
She nodded. 'That was it. For more than an hour we played in them, flying around and over the top and in between the white cliffs in the deep gorges of the mist. And every now and then, far below, one would see Paris, the Concorde or perhaps the Etoile. Never shall I forget that day. And when we landed I was so sleepy that I went to sleep in the car on the way back to Paris, leaning up against John, with my head on his shoulder.'
They walked on in silence for a time. Pierre and Willem tired of pushing the pram and gave place to Rose, with Sheila trotting at her side. The kitten lay curled up in the pram, sound asleep.
Presently Nicole pointed ahead of them. That is the house - amongst those trees.'
The house that she pointed to lay about a mile ahead of them. It seemed to be a fairly large and prosperous farm, grouped round a modest country house standing among trees as shelter from the wind. About it rolled the open pasture of the wold, as far as could be seen.
In half an hour they were close up to it. A long row of stabling showed the interests of the owner; there were horses running in the paddocks near the farm. The farm buildings were better kept and laid out than the farms that Howard had had dealings with on his journey; this was a cut above the usual run of things.
They went up to a house that stood beside the entrance, in the manner of a lodge; here Nicole enquired for M. Arvers. They were directed to the stables; leaving the children with the pram at the gate, they went forward together. They met their man half-way.
Aristide Arvers was a small man of fifty-five or so, thin, with sharp features and a shrewd look. Howard decided at the first glance that this man was no fool. And the second thought that came into his mind was realisation that this man could well be the father of a beauty queen, of Miss Landerneau. The delicate features, sharpening by advancing age, might well be fascinating in a young girl. He wore a shapeless black suit with a soiled scarf wrapped around his neck in lieu of collar; a black hat was on his head.
Nicole said: 'Monsieur Arvers, do you remember me? You were so kind as to invite me here one day, with my father, Colonel Rougeron. You showed my father round your stables. After that you entertained us in your house. That was three years ago - do you remember?'
He nodded. 'I remember that very well, mademoiselle. M. le colonel was very interested in my horses for the army, being himself an artillery officer, if I remember right.' He hesitated. 'I hope you have good news of M. le colonel?'
She said: 'We have had no news for three months, when he was at Metz.'
'I am desolated, mademoiselle.'
She nodded, having nothing much to say to that. She said: 'If my father had been at home he would no doubt have come to see you himself. As he is not, I have come instead.'
His brows wrinkled slightly, but he bowed a little. 'That is an added pleasure,' he said perfunctorily.
'May we, perhaps, go to your office?'
'But certainly.'
He turned and led them to the house. There was a littered, dusty office, full of sad-looking account-books and files, with bits of broken harness thrown aside in corners. He closed the door behind them and gave them rickety chairs; there being no other seats, he leaned backwards against the edge of the desk.
'First,' said the girl, 'I wish to introduce you to Monsieur Howard. He is an Englishman.'
The horse-breeder raised his eyebrows a little, but bowed ceremonious. 'Enchante,' he said.
Nicole said: 'I will come directly to the point, Monsieur Arvers. Monsieur Howard is a very old friend of my family. He is travelling with several children, and he is trying to return to England in spite of the Germans. My mother and I have talked about this, in the absence of my father, and it seemed to us that Jean Henri could help perhaps with one of his boats. Or, if that was impossible, Jean Henri might know some friend who would help. There is money enough to pay for any services.'
The man said nothing for a time. At last: The Germans are not to be trifled with,' he said.
Howard said: 'We appreciate that, monsieur. We do not wish that anyone should run into trouble on our behalf. That is why mademoiselle has come to talk to you before going to your son-in-law.'
The other turned to him. 'You speak French better than most Englishmen.'
'I have had longer than most Englishmen to learn it.'
The Frenchman smiled. 'You are very anxious to return to England?'
The old man said: 'For myself, not so very anxious. I should be quite happy to live in France for a time. But I have children in my care you understand, English children that I have promised that I would escort to England.' He hesitated. 'And, as a matter of fact, there are three others now.'
'What are those other children? How many of you are there altogether? And where have you come from?'
It took nearly twenty minutes fo elucidate the story. At last the Frenchman said: 'These other children, the little one called Pierre and the little Dutchman. What is going to become of them when they reach England?'
Howard said: 'I have a daughter, married, in America. She is in easy circumstances. She would make a home for those two in her house at Long Island till the war is over and we can trace their relations. They would be very happy there.'
The man stared at him keenly. 'In America? That I can well believe. You will send them over the Atlantic to your daughter? Will she be good to them - children that she has never seen? Unknown, foreign children?'
The old man said: 'My daughter has one child of her own, and now hopes for another. She is very fond of all children. They will be safe with her.'
Arvers got up suddenly from the desk. 'It is impossible,' he said. 'If Jean Henri should put his hand to this he would be in great danger. The Germans would shoot him, beyond all doubt. You have no right to suggest such a thing.' He paused, and then he said: 'I have my daughter to consider.'