He turned to Howard: 'That ought to fetch him,' he said placidly, speaking in English.
The old man was troubled. 'I am sorry that you spoke like that,' he said. 'It will not do you any good with him.'
'Nor will anything else,' the young man said. 'I'm very nearly through.'
There was a quiet finality about his tone that made Howard wince.
'Are you sorry?' he enquired.
'No, by God I'm not,' Charenton said, and he laughed boyishly. 'We didn't succeed in getting Adolf, but we gave him the hell of a fright.'
Behind them the door opened. They swung round; there was a German Gefreiter there with a private. The private marched into the room and stood by Howard. The Gefreiter said roughly: 'Kommen Sie.'
Charenton smiled as Howard got up. 'I told you so,' he said. 'Good-bye. All the best of luck.'
'Good-bye,' said the old man. He was hustled out of the room before he had time to say more. As he passed down the corridor to the street he saw through an open door the black uniformed Gestapo officer, his face dark with anger. With a sick heart Howard walked out into the sunlit square between his guards.
They took him back to Nicole and the children. Ronnie rushed up to hun. 'Marjan has been showing us how to stand on our heads,' he said excitedly. 'I can do it and so can Pierre. Willem can't, and none of the girls. Look, Mr Howard. Just look!'
In a welter of children standing on their heads Nicole looked anxiously at him. 'They did nothing?' she enquired.
The old man shook his head. They used me to try to make a young man called Charenton talk,' he said. He told her briefly what had happened.
That is their way,' she said. 'I have heard of that in Chartres. To gain their end through pain they do not work on the body. They work on the mind.'
The long afternoon dragged into evening. Cooped in the little prison room it was very hot and difficult to keep the children happy. There was nothing for them to do, nothing to look at, nothing to read to them. Nicole and Howard found themselves before long working hard to keep the peace and to stop quarrels, and this in one way was a benefit to them in that it made it difficult for them to brood on their own position.
At last the German orderly brought them another meal, a supper of bitter coffee and long lengths of bread. This caused a diversion and a rest from the children; presently, the old man and the girl knew very well, the children would grow sleepy. When the orderly came back for the supper things they asked for beds.
He brought them straw-filled palliasses, with a rough pillow and one blanket each. They spent some time arranging these; by that time the children were tired and willing to lie down.
The long hours of the evening passed in bored inactivity. Nicole and Howard sat on their palliasses, brooding; from time to time exchanging a few words and relapsing into silence. At about ten o'clock they went to bed; taking off their outer clothes only, they lay down and covered themselves with the blanket.
Howard slept fairly well that night, the girl not so well. Very early in the morning, in the half-light before dawn, the door of their prison opened with a clatter. The Gefreiter was there, fully dressed and equipped with bayonet at his belt and steel helmet on his head.
He shook Howard by the shoulder. 'Auf!' he said. He indicated to him that he was to get up and dress himself.
Nicole raised herself on one arm, a little frightened. 'Do they want me?' she asked in French. The man shook his head.
Howard, putting on his coat, turned to her in the dim light. This will be another of their enquiries,' he said. 'Don't worry. I shall be back before long.'
She was deeply troubled. 'I shall be waiting for you, with the children,' she said simply. They will be safe with me.'
'I know they will,' he said. 'Au revoir,'
In the cold dawn they took him out into the square and along to the big house with the swastika flag, opposite the church, where they had first been interrogated. He was not taken to the same room, but to an upstairs room at the back. It had been a bedroom at one time and some of the bedroom furniture was still in place, but the bed had been removed and now it was some kind of office.
The black uniformed Gestapo officer, Major Diessen, was standing by the window. 'So,' he said, 'we have the Englishman again.'
Howard was silent. The German spoke a few words in his own language to the Gefreiter and the private who had brought Howard to the room. The Gefreiter saluted and withdrew, closing the door behind him. The private remained standing at attention by the door. The cold, grey light was now strong in the room.
'Come,' said the German at the window. 'Look out. Nice garden, is it not?'
The old man approached the window. There was a garden there, entirely surrounded by high old red-brick walls covered with fruit trees. It was a well-kept, mature garden, such as he liked to see.
'Yes,' he said quietly. 'It is a nice garden.' Instinctively he felt the presence of some trap.
The German said: 'Unless you help him, in a few minutes your friend Mr Charenton will die in it. He is to be shot as a spy.'
The old man stared at him. 'I don't know what is in your mind that you have brought me here,' he said. 'I met Charenton for the first time yesterday, when you put us together. He is a very brave young man and a good one. If you are going to shoot him, you are doing a bad thing. A man like that should be allowed to live, to work for the world when this war is all over.'
'A very nice speech,' the German said. 'I agree with you; he should be allowed to live. He shall live, if you help him. He shall be a prisoner to the end of the war which will not be long now. Six months at the most. Then he will be free.'
He turned to the window. 'Look,' he said. 'They are bringing him out.'
The old man turned and looked. Down the garden path a little cordon of six German soldiers, armed with rifles, were escorting Charenton. They were under the command of a Feldwebel; an officer rather behind Charenton, who walked slowly, his hands, in his trousers-pockets. He did not seem to be pinioned in any way, nor did he seem to be particularly distressed.
Howard turned to the German. 'What do you want?' he asked. 'Why have you brought me to see this?'
'I have had you brought here,' said the German, 'to see if you would not help your friend, at a time when he needs help.'
He leaned towards the old man. 'Listen,' he said softly. 'It is a very little thing, that will not injure either of you. Nor will it make any difference to the war, because in any case your country now is doomed. If you will tell me how he got the information out of France and back to England, to your Major Cochrane, I will stop this execution.'
He stepped back. 'What do you think?' he said. 'You must be realist. It is not sensible to let a brave young man die, when he could be saved to work for your country when the war is over. And further, nobody can ever know. Charenton will stay in prison till the war is over, in a month or two; then he will be released. You and your family of children will have to stay in France, but if you help us now you need not stay in prison at all. You can live quietly in Chartres with the young woman. Then, when the war is over, in the autumn, you shall all go home. There will be no enquiries about this from England, because by that time the whole organisation of British spies will have become dispersed. There is no danger for you in this at all, and you can save that young man's life.' He leaned towards Howard again. 'Just a few little words,' he said softly. 'How did he do it? He shall never know you told.'