of Europe must be a good thing.'
Presently they were called to the kitchen for their supper. Afterwards, in the salon, Arvers talked to them.
'Listen,' he said, 'and I will tell you what I have arranged.'
He paused. 'Lannilis is full of Germans. That is four miles from the coast, and the places at the coast itself, l'Abervrach and Portsall and places of that sort, are very lightly held or even not occupied at all. They do not interfere with the traffic of the country, and this is what I have devised for you.'
He said: 'Three miles this side of Lannilis there is a farmer called Quintin, and he is to send a load of manure tomorrow to a fisherman called Loudeac, the captain of the lifeboat at l'Abervrach, because Loudeac has a few fields on the hills and wants manure. I have arranged all that. The manure will be delivered in a cart with one horse, you understand? You, m'sieur, will drive the cart. Mademoiselle and the children will accompany you for the ride.'
Howard said: 'That seems sound enough. Nobody would suspect that.'
Aristide glanced at him. 'It will be necessary that you should wear poorer clothes. That I can arrange.'
Nicole said: 'How do we get into touch with Focquet tomorrow night?'
The horse-dealer said: Tomorrow night, Focquet will come at nine o'clock to the estaminet on the quayside. He will appear to be slightly drunk, and he will ask for Pernod des Anges. There is no such drink. In that way you will know him. The rest I will leave to you.'
Howard nodded: 'How can we get to Quintin's farm?'
'I will take you myself so far in the car. That will be safe enough, for it is this side of Lannilis and there will be no questions asked. But there I must leave you.' He thought for a minute. 'It will be better that you should not start from Quintin's farm much before five o'clock,' he said. That will make it reasonable that you should be in l'Abervrach at nightfall, and even that you should spend the night there, with Loudeac.'
Nicole said: 'What about Loudeac and Quintin, monsieur? Do they know that Monsieur Howard and the children will escape?'
The man said: 'Have no fear, mademoiselle. This is not so uncommon, in these times. They know all that they wish to know, and they have been paid. They are good friends of mine.'
Howard said: 'I must now pay you, monsieur.'
They settled down together at the table.
Soon after that they went to bed; refreshed by a restful day Howard slept well. In the morning he went down for coffee feeling better than he had felt for some days.
Aristide said: 'We leave after dejeuner. That will be time enough. Now, I have borrowed clothes for m'sieur. You will not like them, but they are necessary.'
The old man did not like the clothes at all. They were very dirty, a coarse, stained flannel shirt, a pair of torn blue cotton trousers, a dirty canvas pullover that had once been rusty pink iiucolour, and a black, floppy Breton casque. Wooden sabots were the footgear provided with this outfit, but the old man struck at those, and Arvers produced a torn and loathsome pair of boots.
It was some days since he had shaved. When he came down to the kitchen Nicole smiled broadly. 'It is very good,' she said. 'Now, Monsieur Howard, if you walk with the head hanging down, and your mouth open a little - so. And walk slowly, as if you were a very, very old man. And be very deaf and very stupid. I will talk for you.'
Arvers walked round him, studying him critically. 'I do not think the Germans will find fault with that,' he said.
They spent the rest of the morning studying appearances. Nicole kept her black frock, but Arvers made her dirty it a little, and made her change to a very old pair of low-heeled shoes belonging to his wife. With a shawl belonging to Madame Arvers over her head, he passed her too.
The children needed very little grooming. During the morning they had been playing at the duck-pond, and were sufficiently dirty to pass muster without any painting of the lily. Ronnie and Willem were scratching themselves a good deal, which added verisimilitude to the act.
They started after dejeuner. Howard and Nicole thanked Madame Arvers for her kindness; she received their thanks with calm, bovine smiles. Then they all got into the little old de Dion van that Arvers kept for the farm and drove off down the road.
Ronnie said: 'Are we going to the train that we're going to sleep in, Mr Howard?'
'Not just yet,' he said. 'We shall get out of the car presently and say good-bye to Monsieur Arvers, and then we have a ride in a cart. You must all be very careful to speak French only, all the time.'
Sheila said: 'Why must we speak French? I want to speak English, like we used to.'
Nicole said gently: 'We shall be among the Germans. They do not like people who speak English. You must be very careful to speak only in French.'
Rose said suddenly: 'Marjan says the Germans cut his mother's hands off.'
Howard said gently: 'No more talk about the Germans now. In a little time we shall get out, and have a ride in a horse and cart.' He turned to Pierre. 'What sort of noise does a horse make?' he asked.
Pierre said shyly: 'I don't know.'
La petite Rose bent over him. 'Oh, Pierre, of course you know!
'My great-aunt lives in Tours, In a house with a cherry tree With a little mouse (squeak, squeak)
And a big lion (roar, roar)
And a wood-pigeon (coo, coo)...'
That lasted them all the way through Landerneau, of which they caught only glimpses through the windows at the back of the old van, and half-way to Lannilis.
Presently the van slowed, turned off the road, and bumped to a standstill. Arvers swung round to them from the driving-seat. 'This is the place,' he said. 'Get out quickly, it is not wise to linger here.'
They opened the door at the back of the van and got out. They were in a very small farmyard, the farmhouse itself little more than a workman's cottage of grey stone. The air was fresh and sweet after the van, with a clear savour of the sea. In the warm sun, and looking at the grey stone walls and roofs, Howard could have thought himself in Cornwall.
There was a cart and horse, the cart half loaded with manure, the old grey horse tied to the gate. Nobody was to be seen.
Arvers said: 'Now quickly, monsieur, before a German passes on the road. There is the cart. You have everything quite clear? You take the dung to Loudeac, who lives up on the hill above l'Abervrach, half a mile from the port. There you unload it; Mademoiselle Rougeron must bring back the cart tomorrow to this place. Focquet will be in the estaminet tonight at nine o'clock, and he will be expecting you. He will ask for Pernod des Anges. It is all clear?'
'One thing,' the old man said. This road leads straight to Lannilis?'
'Assuredly.' The horse-dealer glanced nervously around.
'How do we get through Lannilis? How do we find the road out of the town to l'Abervrach?'
The hot sun beat down on them warmly from a cloudless sky; the scent of briar mingled with the odour of manure about them. Arvers said: 'This road leads straight to the great church in the middle of the town. From the west end of the church a road runs westwards; follow that. Where it forks at the outskirts of the town, by an advertisement for Byrrh, take the right-hand fork. From there to l'Abervrach is seven kilometres.'
Nicole said: 'I have been that way before. I think I know the road.'
The horse-dealer said: 'I will not linger, mademoiselle. And you, you must move off from here at once.' He turned to Howard. 'That is all that I can do for you, monsieur. Good luck. In happier days, we may meet again.'
The old man said: 'I shall look forward to thanking you again for so much kindness.'
Arvers swung himself into the seat of the old van, reversed out into the road, and vanished in a white cloud of dust. Howard looked around; there was no movement from the house, which stood deserted in the afternoon sun.
Nicole said: 'Come, children, up you go.'
Willem and Marjan swung themselves up into the cart; the English children, with Pierre and Rose, hung back. Ronnie said doubtfully: 'Is this the cart you said we were going to have a ride in?'
