Mother Marie-Pierre seemed unruffled as she went to her office, but she sensed that something serious had happened in her absence, something that had clearly shaken the white-faced Sister Celestine, and she wondered what on earth it could be. She wished she had time to go up to see Aunt Anne and discover more before she had to face Sister Marie-Paul, but she knew that really would enrage the novice mistress. She wondered, too, if something had happened, why it was Sister Marie-Paul who was asking to see her, and not Sister Eloise, her official deputy. It was not long before she found out.
“Arrested! Sister Eloise?”
“Yes, Mother,” replied Sister Marie-Paul, looking grim. “The Germans came and took her away, with a Jew who was hidden in the convent, hidden in your cell, Mother.” Her voice was accusing. “You must have known she was there.”
“Of course I knew,” snapped Mother Marie-Pierre. She had got to her feet and was pacing the room, her palms pressed together as if in prayer. “But that doesn’t matter now. Start from the beginning,” she instructed, as Sister Marie-Paul seemed about to interrupt. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
Sister Marie-Paul described the arrival of the Germans, their simultaneous approach from back and front of the convent, the ruthlessness of their search, the harshness of their officer.
“Not Major Thielen?”
“No, a Colonel Hoch. When they found the escaped Jew with Sister Eloise, he had them both taken to his headquarters in the village. Then he called us all together and threatened us with what would happen if we sheltered any more runaways.” Sister Marie-Paul repeated the threats Hoch had made. “The whole convent was put at risk by sheltering this fugitive. She could have been a criminal for all we knew about her. I gave the colonel an undertaking that it would not happen again.” She stared defiantly at her superior, as if challenging her to disagree, but Mother Marie-Pierre did not take up the challenge. “Sister Eloise?” she asked, simply.
“I asked about her, of course,” replied Sister Marie-Paul, “and the colonel said that he would be interviewing her at his headquarters.”
“And this all happened the day before yesterday?”
Sister Marie-Paul nodded.
“And you’ve heard nothing since?” Mother Marie-Pierre tried to keep the incredulity out of her voice. “You’ve done nothing since?”
Colour crept up Sister Marie-Paul’s neck into her cheeks. “What could I do?” she demanded fiercely. “What can anyone do?”
“I’ll go and see Colonel Hoch,” said Mother Marie-Pierre tightly, her anger at the novice mistress’s complacency almost exploding. How could this woman have simply left her sister to her fate? “I’ll see him and find out where she is.”
“What about the sisters here?” asked Sister Marie-Paul. “Shouldn’t you speak to them first? They were all very afraid when the Germans searched the convent. They need your reassurance that it won’t happen again.”
“The sisters are quite safe for the present,” Mother Marie-Pierre replied, “they will understand that I must go and find Sister Eloise straight away.”
“If only I had known that she was nursing an escaped prisoner, I might have been able to save her,” Sister Marie-Paul said pointedly. “How did the woman get into the convent? Why weren’t we told she was there?”
“I found her in the yard and brought her in,” replied Reverend Mother evenly. “Sister Eloise came to look after her when I asked her to. It was unnecessary to involve anyone else.” She made no mention of the part played by Sister Marie-Marc or Sister Henriette, there was no need to arouse Sister Marie-Paul’s anger further.
“If I may say so, Mother,” Sister Marie-Paul’s eyes glowed with righteous indignation, “Sister Eloise is now in danger because you chose to interfere in matters that do not concern us here. The Germans being here have nothing to do with us.”
“You may say so,” replied her superior more calmly than she felt, “but I would remind you, Sister, that we are called to heal the sick and help the afflicted, and the woman I found was clearly both.” She opened the door to show that the interview was now over. “I shall go down to the village straight away to see what is happening. In the meantime, please carry on as usual. At supper you can reassure our sisters, and tell them where I am and what I am doing. I will speak to them all when I get back, if it is not too late, or in the morning if it is.”
As she hurried down the path to the village, Mother Marie-Pierre considered what had happened in her absence. She had no illusions about the raid. Once Hoch had seen she was safely out of the way, he had searched the convent again, not, she thought, because he expected to find anyone there, but to demonstrate his power. Finding the hidden woman must have been an added bonus and he used it to ensure that the nuns were afraid, afraid enough not to offer shelter again to anyone in hiding. With Sister Marie-Paul at least he had succeeded. She said she had given him an undertaking that they would not help fugitives in the future. Mother Marie-Pierre did not consider herself bound by that undertaking, but she knew now that she could no longer trust Sister Marie-Paul. The earlier divisions among the sisters about the fate of the Lenoir girls would be deepened now and those who considered Sister Marie-Paul was right would form a faction. There had always been factions within the community, it was inevitable, but Mother Marie-Pierre had sought to reduce the friction between them by her open discussion of issues that affected them all, and she had felt that she was beginning to make progress. Now all that would be at risk again. However, such problems were secondary at present, the most important thing now was to try and get Sister Eloise released. She thought about the injured Simone and sighed. She knew that there would be no saving her from the clutches of the Gestapo.
Dusk was falling when she reached the village, but she went straight to the German headquarters where a few chinks of light escaped from badly blacked-out windows. One of the sentries outside demanded her business and when she asked to see Colonel Hoch, he left her waiting in the square while he went in to enquire.
Hoch had heard that she passed through the village to the convent and was expecting her visit. However, he was in no hurry to deal with her; he decided to let her wait and wonder. It was another of his favourite tactics, a way to increase fear and anxiety so that when the time came for interview he already had the upper hand. “Tell her to wait,” he snapped. “I’m too busy to see her now.”
The message was relayed to Mother Marie-Pierre and she was shown once again into the tiny room that had once been the office of some minor clerk in the Mairie. She sat patiently, her rosary comforting in her fingers as she prayed for Sister Eloise and for herself, that she might find the right words to say when she finally got to see Colonel Hoch. She understood only too well why she was being left there and was determined that the tactic should not succeed. The familiar ritual of the rosary soothed her as she waited.
It was another two hours before she was shown into Hoch’s office, by which time she was cold and stiff and in need of a bathroom.
Hoch did not offer her a seat, he simply regarded her from behind his desk with cold eyes. Mother Marie-Pierre stood perfectly still and did not speak. At last Hoch spoke. “Well?”
“I have come to find Sister Eloise.”
“So I assumed. She is in a cell at the gendarmerie… being interrogated.” Hoch’s face was almost expressionless. “She was harbouring an enemy of the Reich.”
“She was nursing an injured woman,” Mother Marie-Pierre said quietly. “It is her calling.”
“Then she will be carrying out her calling elsewhere in future,” Hoch said coldly. “As she wishes to look after such people, it has been arranged. She will accompany her patient to an internment camp.”
Mother Marie-Pierre stared at him in horror, and he saw that he had finally pierced her calm façade. “To an internment camp? But Colonel, have you no respect for her cloth?”
“It is because I respect her cloth, as you put it, that I am not having her shot,” he replied coolly.
“Shot? For nursing an injured woman?”
“An enemy of the Reich,” he repeated. “And, as I am sure you have already spoken to the nun you left in charge at the convent, you know that I have warned her, warned all of you, what will happen if such incidents occur again. You are the reverend mother, it is your choice.” He stood to show that the interview was over, but Mother Marie-Pierre, her mind racing, stood her ground.
“May I see her?” she asked quietly.
Hoch shrugged. “If you wish. She will be leaving in the truck that’s coming through in the morning. Schwarz! In here!” He barked the order through the open door and the guard outside came rushing in.
“Take this nun over to the gendarmerie and let her see the other one. She may have ten minutes.” He turned back to Mother Marie-Pierre. “I do not expect to see you here again, Reverend Mother, for any reason whatsoever. This country is still at war, and I will do whatever I consider necessary to protect its people from saboteurs, spies… and anyone else who becomes the enemy of the Reich. Do you understand?”
His eyes drilled into her, and she lowered her own, murmuring, “Certainly, Colonel. I do understand.”
“Take her to see the other one,” he snapped again, and she was dismissed.
Schwarz led her to the gendarmerie, where two local gendarmes were sitting, smoking. He jerked his head at Mother Marie-Pierre, and was brusque. “She’s to see the other nun. Ten minutes.”
Captain Gregoire got to his feet, his cigarette still hanging from his lip, and picked up a ring of keys from the desk in front of him. “In here,” he growled, and Mother Marie-Pierre followed him through a door into a passage beyond. Several doors led off this and Gregoire paused outside one. He raised the flap on a spy hole and peered in, then he turned a key in the lock and let Mother Marie-Pierre pass him into the cell. It contained nothing but a low stone platform to serve as a bed, and an open drain in the corner.
Sister Eloise was sitting on the bed, but as Mother Marie-Pierre came into the room, she stood up shakily. Her habit was torn and dirty, her hood gone, so that her hair, grey and short-cropped, was exposed as it had not been since she had been professed. Her face was bruised, her lip split and one eye nearly closed. Without the dignity of her wimple she might have seemed diminished, to have dwindled into a little old lady, but the light in her eyes was undimmed.
“Mother!” she cried as she saw who was there. “I knew you would come!” She held out her hands, but Mother Marie-Pierre gathered her into her arms.
“My poor sister,” cried Mother Marie-Pierre. “Eloise, what have they done to you?”
Sister Eloise managed a smile as she rested her bruised cheek against the reverend mother’s for a moment. “Nothing that won’t mend, Mother.” She withdrew from Mother Marie-Pierre’s arms and sank back down onto the stone bed.
Reverend Mother sat beside her and took her hands. “Tell me what happened.”
Sister Eloise told her about the Gestapo search and Simone being found. “We thought it was safe to keep her in your bed while you were away,” she explained. “We didn’t think the Germans would come back, and when she was better, Sister St Bruno had suggested that we could keep her as a lay worker instead of Marthe. We thought she’d be safe in the convent.” She sighed. “But they came without warning, swarming over the whole convent. I was in the middle of changing the dressing on Simone’s shoulder. It was impossible to hide her.”
“Where is she now?” asked Mother Marie-Pierre quietly.
“I don’t know,” replied Sister Eloise. “I haven’t seen her since we were brought here. That Gestapo colonel thought I could tell him about the other missing prisoners, you know, the ones that escaped from that lorry. He seemed to think we were hiding them at the convent too. I told him we had only seen Simone, I think he has finally decided to believe me. He says I’m to be sent to some camp or other, to keep me out of trouble.”
“I know, he told me.” Mother Marie-Pierre sighed. “Oh, Sister, I’m so sorry. It’s my fault that you’re in this place, I should never have…”
“Oh yes, you should,” cut in Sister Eloise swiftly with much of her old determination and energy. “What the Gestapo are doing is the work of the devil, and we should fight evil wherever we find it.” She gripped her superior’s hand. “Mother… you have always been a woman of great courage and determination. From the moment you arrived at the convent as Sarah, a green girl keen to do your bit, you have devoted yourself to what you thought was right; what God was calling you to do. No, let me finish,” she said as Mother Marie-Pierre tried to interrupt. “You were an unusual choice as Reverend Mother, being so young and comparatively junior in the community, but I have no doubt that you were God’s choice, and He had His reasons for choosing you. I shall be moving on tomorrow… somewhere… but wherever it is He will have work for me there.”
“Sister, you have such faith,” whispered Mother Marie-Pierre, feeling humble in the face of it.
“So do you,” replied Sister Eloise. “So do you. If it pleases God that I return to the convent at the end of this war, I know I shall find it standing firm, safe in your care. If not, we shall meet again in God’s own good time.”
The key scraped in the door behind them, and Sister Eloise drew Mother Marie-Pierre to her once more, murmuring urgently into her ear. “Fight this evil, Mother, from wherever it comes.”
“Time’s up,” growled Gregoire as the two sisters embraced for the last time.
“God bless you, Mother,” Sister Eloise said as she let her go.
“And you, Sister. You will be in our prayers, night and day.”
“Out!” barked Gregoire, moving to push them apart. “Out! Your time’s up.”
Mother Marie-Pierre left the cell and heard the door clank closed behind her, separating Sister Eloise from her community for the last time.
Gregoire almost pushed Sister Marie-Paul out of the gendarmerie, and she found herself outside in the darkness of the street, but the chill in the autumn air was nothing compared with the bleakness in her heart. She stood for a moment, about to walk back to the convent, but with sudden resolution she turned towards the church and the curé’s house. Perhaps Father Michel could speak to Colonel Hoch and get him to reconsider his decision to send Sister Eloise to the internment camp.
No lights showed from the windows, but she knocked and waited just the same. At first there was no reply, but as she went to raise the knocker again she heard the scrape of bolts being drawn back, and the door opened a fraction. Mademoiselle Picarde peered round it, and saw who was outside. “Reverend Mother, what do you want at this time of night?”
“I wish to speak with Father Michel,” replied Mother Marie-Pierre. She kept the anger she felt out of her voice and stepped towards the half-closed door.
“He’s very busy,” said Mademoiselle Picarde, but encountering the look of determination on her visitor’s face she took a step back and allowed Mother Marie-Pierre to push the door open and enter the dimly lit hall.
“Wait here, please,” the housekeeper said. Opening a door and switching on a light she showed Mother Marie-Pierre into a parlour. “I will tell Father Michel you are here.”
The elderly priest came out at once and led the nun into his study at the back of the house. Here a small fire burned in the grate, and it was clear that this was where Father Michel spent most of his time.
“Thank you, Rose,” he said to his housekeeper, and the woman backed out of the room closing the door behind her. Indicating she should take the chair in front of his desk, the curé took his own seat behind it. “Now, Mother, what can I do for you?”
Mother Marie-Pierre explained about Sister Eloise. “She was simply nursing an injured woman, Father,” she said. “That is no reason for the Gestapo to deport her to a camp in Germany.”
“The trouble is,” Father Michel looked at her over his steepled fingers, “the trouble is that she became involved in secular matters, matters that shouldn’t concern you in the convent. You are not to know who is a criminal and who is not. People who come to the hospital with gunshot wounds should be reported to the authorities.”
Sister Marie-Paul’s words echoed in Mother Marie-Pierre’s head, and she realised where they had originated. “Did Sister Marie-Paul come to you for advice, Father?” she asked though she already knew the answer.
“She did, Mother. In your absence she had nowhere else to turn.”
“I understand, of course.” Mother Marie-Pierre was conciliatory, though anger burned inside her. It was better to let the priest think she agreed with what he said, to keep him safe in his authority so that he would not question hers. She smiled sadly. “I just thought you might have some influence with the colonel, that he’d respect your cloth and perhaps release Sister Eloise.”
“I’m afraid not, Mother. I really feel it would be wrong to involve myself in such secular affairs. ‘Render unto Caesar’, Mother. Remember Our Lord’s teaching, and at the present time ‘Caesar’ is the German authorities.”
Mother Marie-Pierre got to her feet and ducked her head as if in submission. “I quite understand, Father. Thank you for seeing me. I must go now or I won’t be in before curfew.” She turned and walked to the front door followed by the priest. He raised his hand in blessing and then closed the door quickly behind her, shutting her out into the night.