‘Stay where you are!’ whispered Pierre, and slipping out of the bedroom he closed the door gently behind him.
He had hardly done so when Madame Bonard and a gendarme appeared in the small hallway.
‘So it’s you!’ she said in a surly tone, evidently badly disgruntled at having been disturbed from her New Year’s Eve dinner and made to climb up to the top flights of stairs. ‘What’re you up to, and how did you get in here?’
As she spoke the gendarme ran to the window and began to draw the curtains. ‘You’ll be lucky if you get off with a heavy fine for this,’ he muttered. ‘You must be crazy to sit about in rooms without doing the black-out. The lights from these top windows can be seen from the sky for miles, and for such an offence you’re liable to a prison sentence.’
Pierre realised then what had brought them up there. As Madame Lavallière was dead Madame Bonard had not bothered to do the black-out as usual that evening. On entering the flat Madeleine had failed to notice that, and the shock of finding her mother dead had prevented her from becoming aware of it later. Down in the street the gendarme had seen the lights go on and immediately roused out Madame Bonard to go up with him while he took particulars of the culprit.
‘How did you get in?’ Madame Bonard repeated truculently.
‘As a friend of the family I was given a key to the apartment months ago,’ Pierre lied.
‘And what were you doing here?’ she went on.
Pierre was saved from having to reply by the gendarme saying angrily: ‘Don’t stand there, man! Do the other two windows—in that room behind you! There were three windows in a line, all blazing with light when I ran along the street.’ As he spoke he moved swiftly towards the bedroom door.
‘No, no, I’ll do it,’ Pierre cried hastily, stepping in front of him.
‘All right, go on then!’ replied the policeman, but as Pierre did not budge he suddenly made to thrust him aside.
‘You can’t go in there!’ declared Pierre, grabbing the policeman’s arm.
‘Why not?’ the man demanded.
‘There’s a body of a woman in it who died last night. We should respect the dead.’
‘Fiddlesticks!’ exclaimed Madame Bonard. ‘It’s no disrespect to the poor woman to do her black-out.’ Her voice suddenly changed to a note of suspicion. ‘What’ve you been up to? I believe there’s something you don’t want us to see in there.’
‘Stand aside!’ said the gendarme firmly. ‘You’re obstructing me in the course of my duty. I believe you’re one of these Communists who’re endeavouring to sabotage the régime. If you don’t get out of the way I shall charge you with showing these lights and keeping them on with intent to assist the enemy.’
Pierre was up against it. He knew that Madeleine must have heard their raised voices through the door. She might have taken the minute he had gained for her to hide herself; but now that Madame Bonard’s suspicions were aroused it was more than likely that once she got into the room she would open the cupboards and poke about to see if he had interfered with anything, and that would result in Madeleine’s discovery. Pierre had never hit a man in anger in his life, but he loved Madeleine desperately. He could not bear the thought that she would be carted off and handed over to the Gestapo. Ribaud had furnished him with a pistol, but he was terrified of firearms and felt certain that he would bungle matters if he tried to use it.
As he stared into the angry eyes of the policeman he had an awful sinking feeling from knowing that he positively had to do something, or in another moment it would be too late. The gendarme was standing within two feet of him. With a sudden inspiration Pierre made a nervous grab at the man’s truncheon, jerked it out and hit him a glancing blow with it on the side of the head.
For a moment the gendarme was so astonished that he did nothing, but stood there with his left hand up to his head where he had been hit; then with a roar of rage he pulled out his pistol.
Desperate now, Pierre hit him with the truncheon again, this time much harder and on top of the head. The policeman’s kepi took some of the force of the blow, but he staggered back, while Madame Bonard, throwing up her hands, ran out of the room and down the stairs, crying:
‘Help! Help! Police! Murder!’
Before the gendarme could raise his gun Pierre hit him a third time, his nervous excitement lending strength to the blow. The man dropped his pistol and fell to his knees, where he remained, swaying slightly, while he mumbled threats and curses.
Staring down at him, Pierre was conscious of the frightening thought that he had burnt his boats; but he saw that his only course now was to go through with the job. Seizing the half-dazed policeman, he threw him face downwards on the floor, and pulling his arms behind his back tied his wrists with a handkerchief. He then grabbed a scarf from the hat-stand and, avoiding the man’s futile kicks, succeeded in tying his ankles together. Jumping up, he ran to the bedroom door, switched off the light and called to Madeleine:
‘It was Madame Bonard and a gendarme! Your forgetting to do the black-out brought them up. I’ve laid him out, but she’s rushed downstairs to get help.’
At the sound of his voice Madeleine stepped out of a big clothes cupboard where she had hidden herself, and said quickly: ‘You knocked the policeman out! How brave of you, Pierre! Where is he?’
‘Here, on the floor,’ called Pierre into the semi-darkness; ‘but his friends will come pounding up the stairs at any moment, and God knows how we’re going to get out of here.’
Madeleine’s mind had switched back to that terrible evening six months before when the Nazis had raided the apartment and shot Georges. She had then had a short-lived hope that if he could back his way into the little kitchen while she threw herself in front of him he might be able to escape down the cables of the goods lift. In a hurried spate of words she now produced the idea to Pierre.
He paled a little. ‘Those cables aren’t meant to bear a big weight and they’re pretty old. We’ll break our necks if they give way.’
‘We’ll have to chance that,’ declared Madeleine resolutely.
‘All right, then. But let’s go down by the one from my kitchen. If they find this flat empty when they get back that may give us a few extra moments; and if we lock the door they’ll have to break it down.’
With a swift nod Madeleine ran into the kitchen, flung open the window and threw her hat into the sink so that the police would find a false trail and imagine that they had gone out that way. Pierre meanwhile had unlocked the door of his own apartment across the landing, and as soon as they were inside it they bolted the door behind them.
‘You won’t be able to come back here now,’ she gasped, ‘so you’d better take a few things.’
‘D’you think there’s time?’ he asked uneasily.
‘Yes, yes! But for God’s sake, be quick!’
Running to his bedroom, Pierre pulled a suitcase out from under the bed and rapidly stuffed some of his most treasured possessions and more useful clothes into it, while Madeleine got his kitchen window open, and climbing out on the sill began to test the stoutest cable to see if it would bear her weight.
Suddenly she heard Pierre’s voice behind her. ‘Perhaps I’d better go first in case it breaks.’
With a shake of her head she rejected his gallant offer and swung herself out on to the cable. It was not very thick, so it proved difficult for her to keep a proper grip on it with her hands and knees. She had intended to go down, hand over hand, but before she was halfway the wire was slipping through her grasp. In sudden panic she clutched it tightly so that it cut through her gloves and burnt her hands, as though it were made of red-hot steel. With a moan of pain she slid the last twenty feet, arriving with a horrible bump on the wooden cage at the bottom.
Dazed and faint, her hands smarting terribly, she managed to pick herself out of the snow and called up that she was all right. Then she saw Pierre’s dark form against the starlight sky as he prepared to follow her.
Very fortunately she stood away from under him, as before he had lowered himself a dozen feet he, too, found himself slipping, and with one of his hands he was clutching his heavy bag. Next second, in order to save himself, he was compelled to drop it.
It landed with a terrific thud at Madeleine’s feet, spilling its contents right and left in the trampled snow. Controlling the pain that she was feeling with an effort, she hastily began to collect the things and cram them back into the bag. A minute later he was beside her. In frantic haste they picked up the last few items. Pierre grabbed the bag, and they set off at a run down the dark alleyway, the snow deadening the sound of their footfalls.
By the time they reached the street at the alley’s end and broke into a walk Madeleine was sobbing openly. She could feel the warm blood soaking into her gloves from the places where her palms had been torn, and the nerves were on fire from their searing contact with the steel cable. The torture was such that she was hardly even aware that she was badly bruised about the body from her fall. Pierre had come off somewhat better, as he had grabbed up his thickest pair of gloves before leaving his room, and as they were leather motor gauntlets they had served to protect his hands, except in one place where the leather had been scorched through.
Taking Madeleine’s arm with his free hand he strove to comfort her as they hurried down a narrow turning that brought them to Les Halles. The great central market was shut, but as they twisted in and out among the stacks of bales and crates which lined the pavements and the streets adjacent to it they felt that they were now safe from pursuit, and Madeleine managed to regain control of herself. Heading north-west, they reached the Bourse, from which they got a bus that took them up to the Place Malesherbes, Madeleine keeping her hands in her pockets while she was in it, from fear that their bloody state should attract unwelcome attention.
When they reached Luc Ferrière’s house they found that Kuporovitch had not yet gone out on his nightly prowl. On hearing of her adventures he showed a new respect for Pierre, whom in secret he had always previously despised as a weakling, and while helping Madeleine to bathe her hands he very wisely forbore from upbraiding her upon her rashness in going to her old home against his advice.
When her hands had been attended to, and Madame Chautemps had given her aspirin, and tucked her up in bed, Kuporovitch broke the news to Ferrière that he would have to accommodate another guest. The Mayor had no option but to agree, and by now he had become so used to the presence of the other two that he showed no resentment, only alarm that Pierre might be the cause of bringing the police down on the house before the night was out, which would prove the undoing of them all.
However, Pierre assured him that he was quite certain that Madeleine and himself had not been followed; and after Kuporovitch had given him a stiff brandy, which he badly needed owing to the strain he had undergone, he was accommodated in a little room at the top of the house next to Madame Chautemps’ bedroom.
For the next few days Madeleine was unable to carry out her nightly duties at the Marquise de Villebois’ house, and it distressed her very much that there could be no question of attending her mother’s funeral; but the Mayor’s household soon settled down again with its new occupant, and Pierre now went out every night with Kuporovitch as his assistant.
As a result of the bitter wrangling between the governors of France over Christmas, on the 3rd of January it was announced from Vichy that Unoccupied France would now be ruled by a triumvirate, consisting of Admiral Darlan, General Huntziger, and Monsieur Flandin, under the direction of Marshal Pétain. On the 5th the British captured Bardia with 40,000 prisoners, and on the 10th great excitement was caused from the R.A.F. having carried out their first heavy daylight raid on aerodromes and other objectives in Northern France. As usual, the Germans endeavoured to cover the matter up by lying about it, but everybody knew from the whispering campaign which now carried the B.B.C. broadcasts into every corner of the capital that the raid had been most successful and that the British had got away without losing a single aircraft.
By the following week Madeleine’s hands had healed sufficiently for her to resume her duties, and Kuporovitch attended another conference at the house in the Avenue d’Orléans. On his return he was able to tell her from Lacroix that, although Gregory was out of the game, all the information the Colonel had sent by him had got safely through, as arms and explosives were now reaching Lacroix’s nominees through his secret channels in the south of France.
The cold continued to be intense. Food was becoming more difficult than ever to obtain, and their situation was now aggravated by the fact that soap was running terribly short; so they could not afford to wash themselves with it more than once a day, and laundry could now only be rinsed in almost freezing water.
Their condition would have been even more miserable had not Kuporovitch continued to bring in supplies of illegally obtained foods, and towards the end of the month he had excuses to hold two of his celebrations. On January the 22nd the British took Tobruk with a further 25,000 prisoners, and on the 28th news came through that earlier in the month the Camel Corps of the Free French Forces, based in Equatorial Africa, had raided the Italian air base of Murzuk in Southwestern Libya, destroying a number of enemy planes and all their facilities there.
At the end of January there were further signs of how uneasily Unoccupied France was bearing the German yoke. Marstal Pétain had written to Hitler pleading for the release of some of the French prisoners-of-war, and Hitler had replied by a refusal to make any further concessions unless Vichy would give him full collaboration; upon which anti-Vichy articles began to appear in many of the papers. On February the 2nd Admiral Darlan paid another visit to Paris for a meeting with Laval, who had now gone over openly to the Germans, but the results of the meeting were kept secret. Darlan returned to Vichy on the 4th, came back to Paris with counter-proposals from Pétain on the 6th, and returned again to Vichy on the 7th. On the 9th Pétain appointed him Vice-Premier and Foreign Minister; so it was clear that he had now managed to gain control of the situation and henceforth would be the moving spirit in the Vichy Government.
In the meantime, the people of the United States were at last becoming conscious of the extreme peril in which they would stand if Hitler succeeded in defeating Britain, and the American Administration was exercising all the pressure that it could to restrain Vichy from collaboration with the Axis. On February the 5th a writ of attachment was issued on all funds held by the Bank of France in New York, and on the 8th the Lease and Lend Bill was passed.
The Greeks were going from victory to victory in their Albanian campaign and by February the 12th the Italian losses there were estimated to be in the neighbourhood of 90,000 men. But the German diplomats were now very active in the Balkans, and on the 13th the Yugoslav Prime Minister was summoned to Berchtesgaden. On March the 1st Bulgaria joined the Axis, and on the 3rd German troops were reported to have crossed Bulgaria and reached the Greek frontier.
With the capture of Benghazi on February the 6th General Wavell’s brilliant campaign was brought to a magnificent conclusion, but this great soldier seemed tireless in his efforts to secure Britain’s position in the Near East, despite his terribly limited resources. Italian East Africa was now receiving his attention, and the Generals under him were displaying extraordinary vigour and enterprise. On February the 25th Mogadishu, the capital of Italian Somaliland, fell to the South African Forces, and on March the 16th Berbera, the capital of British Somaliland, was recaptured; while Imperial Forces had now penetrated far into Abyssinia and Eritrea.
On March the 25th Yugoslav representatives signed a pact with the Nazis in Vienna, but the following day there were great patriotic demonstrations against the Government, and on the 27th General Simovitch effected a coup d’etat by which the Regent Prince Paul was deposed and the young King Peter assumed power. On the same day Keren and Hara, two most important points in the Abyssinian campaign, fell to the Imperial Forces. These British victories on land were followed next day by one at sea. Admiral Cunningham caught the Italian Fleet off Cape Matapan and mauled it severely.
But in early April the tide turned against the British. The Quisling Sayid Rashid Ali effected a coup d’etat, instigated by the Nazis, in Iraq, and the British were taken by surprise in Libya, where the Germans, who had sent over their armoured Afrika Korps to reinforce the Italians, unexpectedly took the offensive, compelling the British to evacuate Benghazi. That distant Addis Ababa was entered after an amazing forced march on April the 5th was a small compensation for these much more serious setbacks; and on Sunday, April 6th, the Nazis struck again with all their force, invading Yugoslavia.
During all these weeks Madeleine, Kuporovitch and Pierre carried on with their work. They could foresee no ending to the war, but had an absolute conviction that it could only be hastened by the sort of efforts they were making, which was a big consolation to them in view of the hard and dangerous lives that they were leading.
From time to time, all three of them were summoned to conferences at the house in the Avenue d’Orléans, and occasionally the two men had exciting moments when their plans went wrong, or they were in temporary danger of being caught, but by fire-raising, interference with railway points, and the sabotaging of shipping in the Seine, they managed to do quite a considerable amount of damage.
It comforted them, too, to know from the conferences which they attended that the secret movement was ever-growing, and that, whereas in September they had been a few lone men against a mighty enemy, they could now count upon the help and support of great numbers of the French people. Their exploits, too, had now become far less hazardous, since in an emergency there were nearly always strangers at hand who were willing to give them aid in getting away when they were pursued, or temporarily hiding them from the police.
To obtain supplies became more difficult than ever, but as the year advanced they suffered far less severely from the cold, and it was with immense relief that they saw the first budding of the trees in the Bois and the Jardins des Tuileries.
As April advanced, however, the bulletins became more and more depressing and the pro-Nazi announcers on the Paris radio more raucous as they bawled accounts of the Nazi victories. By the 9th the Germans had occupied Salonika, cutting off the Greek armies in Thrace and Eastern Macedonia. On the 10th General Rommel scored a great triumph in Libya, capturing 2,000 British prisoners, including three generals. On the 11th Zagreb fell to the Germans, and their forces reached Monastir, thereby cutting Yugoslavia off from Greece. By the 13th the British Forces in Greece were already in retreat, and on the 14th the Greeks were compelled to evacuate Koritza, Few people doubted now that the gallant Greek Army was doomed and that the British, having with such crazy rashness established a front on the mainland of Europe, would soon be driven out of it.
It was on the 16th that Madeleine and her friends were seated at supper with the Mayor, rather gloomily discussing the latest bulletins, when they heard a sharp rat-a-tat on the front door.
Luc Ferrière’s lifelong meanness had stood them in admirable stead since they had taken up their residence with him. Owing to the fact that he never entertained, and had lived almost as a hermit, they were never troubled with unwelcome visitors whom the Mayor could hardly have ceased to receive had it been his custom to do so, and which would have meant their constantly going into hiding upstairs when such visits occurred.
At the sound of the knocking alarm showed in all their faces, as they had no idea who it could be.
‘Into your sitting-room!’ Kuporovitch whispered swiftly to the Mayor. ‘No one must be allowed in here to see that there are four places laid at the table.’ Then he bundled Madeleine and Pierre out of the room, and followed them upstairs.
Madame Chautemps had come out in the passage. Directly she saw that they were safely out of the way, and that the Mayor was settled in his room, she went to the door and opened it. A lean-faced man with a soft hat pulled well down over his eyes, and his collar turned up, was standing there. On his asking for the Mayor she held the door open for him to come in, and while she closed it he stood for a moment under the light in the hall.
Kuporovitch had sent Madeleine and Pierre into the nearest bedroom, but had remained on the landing himself. He was peering over the banisters, his gun in his hand, ready for action, anxious to ascertain as soon as possible if the visitor were just a casual caller or might prove a threat to their safety.
Suddenly he gave a shout of joy and came bounding down the stairs.
‘Gregory, by all that’s holy! My son, my friend, my brother! What a joy to see you here!’
The lean man turned and limped forward, a bright smile lighting up his face, as he greeted the Russian with equal affection.
Kuporovitch’s shout had brought the others out of the bedroom, and they too ran down to crowd round Gregory and shake him warmly by the hand.
‘But how did you know where to find us?’ Madeleine exclaimed after a moment.
‘Can we talk freely?’ he asked, with a quick glance at the housekeeper, who was still standing near the door.
‘Yes, yes!’ Kuporovitch assured him. ‘Madame Chautemps is a de Gaullist and has proved an invaluable friend to us; but you must exercise caution in front of our host.’ He pointed to the closed sitting-room door.
Gregory lowered his voice. ‘I telephoned Ribaud as soon as I got to Paris, and he gave me your address. You’ve no idea how glad I was to know that you were still safe and sound after all these months.’
‘How did you get to Paris this time?’ Madeleine asked.
‘Not by sea, thank you,’ he laughed. ‘I’ve had enough clandestine crossings to last me a lifetime, but I’ll tell you about my ghastly trip home later on. I came over by plane last night and was dropped by parachute near Beauvais.’
‘Have you had anything to eat?’ Kuporovitch enquired anxiously.
Gregory shook his head. ‘No. It took me the best part of the day to get here, and I brought only a few bars of chocolate in my pocket, so I’m hungry as a hunter. I hope to goodness you’re not all starving.’
‘I never starve!’ laughed the Russian. ‘Come in, my friend, come in, and we will resume our supper.’
Luc Ferrière was called out of his sitting-room and introduced. He muttered a little unhappily when he was told that his house must now shelter yet another secret guest, but Kuporovitch said that Gregory could share his room and went down to the cellar to fetch the two best bottles of burgundy remaining in it. Five minutes later another place had been laid, and they were all seated round the table laughing and talking again.
Pierre had a job to do that night, so he left them soon after the meal was finished, and Luc Ferrière went off to bed at ten o’clock; so Madeleine, Kuporovitch and Gregory were then able to talk with complete freedom. Gregory laughed a lot when he heard about how Kuporovitch had trapped the Mayor into providing them with a safe and comfortable hideout. Then he told them of his difficult trip back to England and gave details of his own narrow escape from death in the previous November.
He had been in a ghastly state when the faithful Rudd and a rescue party had pulled him out of the ruins of his home thirty hours after it had been bombed, but that was five months ago, and he was now completely recovered, except that he still limped a little, although the doctors said that, too, would be all right in time. For the first two months or so he had suffered severely from the dressing of his wounds; but his ill luck in being blitzed had had its compensations. As soon as he was well enough to be moved Sir Pellinore had sent him up to Gwaine Meads, so that Erika could nurse him, and all through the late winter and early spring, while he was convalescing, he had the joy of being with her.
During these months Lacroix had managed to establish safe contacts with a number of de Gaulle’s officers at the Free French Headquarters in London; so once Gregory had set the ball rolling his inability to continue as a link between Lacroix and the British Government had not materially hampered the Colonel’s operations. But when Gregory had felt himself really fit again he had insisted upon getting back into harness, and Sir Pellinore had suggested that he should make a trip to Paris so that on his return he could put in a full appreciation of the state of things there from his own unbiased observations.
Kuporovitch then told him how well things were going and gave him an outline of some of his own more recent activities.
Madeleine had sat silent for some time when suddenly she broke in: ‘I know you’re doing good work, Stefan, and that lots of our other friends are too. You’re all doing everything you can and risking your lives almost nightly, but what do the results amount to? Please don’t think I’m trying to belittle your work, but it’s seemed to me for a long time now that we’re not really getting anywhere. Naturally, it annoys the Germans when you derail a troop-train or succeed in blowing up one of the plants that are making munitions for them; but these things are only pinpricks.’
‘I don’t see how Stefan and his friends can do very much more at the moment,’ Gregory said mildly.
‘But don’t you realise,’ she insisted, ‘that these isolated acts are not really bringing us nearer to winning the war? Any damage that is done can easily be repaired within a week or two, and it can’t be one-hundredth part of what the Germans are doing by their bombing of Plymouth, Coventry, Southampton, Bristol and Liverpool. Now that the Nazis are in control of practically the whole of Europe they have simply thousands of factories working for them, so even with American help it’s going to be years before Britain can possibly catch up in the armaments race. Then there’s the question of man-power. The British are gallant enough, but even with their Empire and the bits and pieces of Free Forces that are fighting with them they simply haven’t the population ever to be able to put into the field an army which will be able to defeat the combined forces of the Germans, Italians and their puppet states on the mainland of Europe.’
‘That’s true enough,’ Gregory agreed; ‘but if we can hold the Germans in their cage by our blockade that ought to have its effect in time; and sooner or later we’ll achieve the air superiority which will enable us to blast hell out of the German cities. Between them these two weapons will bring the Germans to their knees.’
‘But when?’ demanded Madeleine impatiently. ‘Don’t you see that it may take years, and that while you’re slowly building up your Air Force and trying to starve out the Germans you’ll be starving the people in all the countries that they’ve conquered, too? It was grim enough here last winter. What it’s going to be like next I can’t think, and as long as there is anything left to eat at all you can be certain that the Germans will take it for themselves. Surely you see that in time the spirit of the people in the occupied territories will be broken by sheer starvation, unless you can devise some means to bring them aid or stir them into revolt while there is still some fight left in them.’
Kuporovitch nodded. ‘I’m afraid you’re right about that; but any premature attempt at a revolt would be absolute madness. The Germans are employing a part of their forces now to throw the British out of Greece, but the numbers of the British there obviously cannot be large, and the Greeks and Yugoslavs are so ill-equipped to fight a modern war that it will be quite impossible for them to put up any prolonged resistance. Even while the campaign is in progress Occupied France is still lousy with German troops, and once it’s over they would be able to use the whole of their Army, if need be, to quell any rising here. We shouldn’t stand a dog’s chance.’
‘I don’t think you’d stand much chance anyhow,’ Gregory remarked, ‘until the British are in a position to land regular troops on the French coast to support a revolt, and I don’t think there’s the least hope of that this year, or probably even next. For any such landing to be successful, quite apart from the fact that we haven’t yet got sufficient supplies of tanks, our expeditionary force would need complete aerial protection, and although we’ve managed to beat the Luftwaffe on our own ground we’re nowhere near strong enough yet to start a major air offensive.’
‘Then someone will have to think up some other idea for dealing a really heavy blow at the Nazis,’ Madeleine persisted; ‘something which will shake them so much that there will be a chance for us to make a successful rising. I’m absolutely convinced that it is the only hope for the people in the conquered territories. If something’s not done within a year at most they’ll be down and out for good.’
Gregory nodded gravely. ‘You mean that somehow or other we must give an entirely new orientation to the war. There’s a lot in what you say, Madeleine, but how it could be done is just one hell of a problem.’
‘If we could only kill Hitler that might do the trick,’ she suggested. ‘The Germans regard him now as a kind of symbol of victory—almost as a god. Time and again he’s gone against his own General Staff; yet he’s managed to pull the chestnuts out of the fire every time. His loss would prove an incalculable blow to them. It would shake their confidence in themselves and that’s what we want.’
Kuporovitch shook his head. ‘I’m afraid that’s out of the question. The reprisals for his murder would be ghastly beyond belief.’
Madeleine’s blue eyes were blazing in her white face. ‘What does that matter? If only we could shake the whole Nazi machine to its foundations! If France had fought on thousands of her men would have died on the battlefields. Even if thousands of them should be sacrificed now they would be dying for their country just the same.’
‘In view of the fact that we’re waging Total War you’re perfectly right,’ Gregory agreed, ‘but I’m afraid any attempt to assassinate Hitler is a hopeless proposition. He must be the most carefully guarded man in Europe. When I spoke of a new orientation of the war, though, I meant by its spreading to our advantage. For example, if either Russia or the United States came in on our side. How about Russia, Stefan? This pact between Moscow and Berlin is one of the most phoney tie-ups that have ever been entered into. Everyone knows that Russian and German interests are diametrically opposed.’
‘Then why didn’t the Russians come in with us at the beginning?’ Madeleine asked.
He shrugged. ‘The Russains didn’t see the fun of pulling our chestnuts out of the fire for us, and we certainly hadn’t deserved that they should. If they’d come in at the kick-off they would have had to take the whole weight of the first great German assault after the Nazis had overrun Poland. Stalin’s attitude in wishing to see the Germans weaken themselves first against Britain and France was perfectly logical. But I don’t think he’d like to see Britain totally defeated, because he knows perfectly well that within a year the Nazis would find an excuse to quarrel with him, and he’d either have to surrender his grain and oil-lands, which are his life-blood, peaceably, or take on the mightiest army the world has ever seen, alone. Now that the Luftwaffe has been knocked about a bit, and the Germans have had to spread themselves so much, to hold down all their conquered territories, what do you think the chances are, Stefan, of Stalin ratting on his pact with Hitler and coming in against him?’
‘I’m fully convinced that there’s no chance of that at all,’ Kuporovitch replied with a cynical grin. ‘If he’d been going to come in for the reasons which you state he would have come in during the Battle for France, when all the German Armies were fully engaged in the West. All Stalin wants is peace to continue the Five-Year Plans which in another twenty years will make Russia one of the most wealthy and prosperous nations in the world. He knows now that Britain means to fight it out, so he’s sitting fairly pretty. Such a war to the death must continue for another five years at least, and both Germany and Britain will emerge from it utterly exhausted; so even if the Nazis are still in power when it’s over they will no longer have the strength to attack Russia.’
‘There, you see!’ Madeleine exclaimed. ‘You admit yourself that with things as they are the war cannot be over for at least another five years. By that time France will have starved to death. We must do something to create an entirely new situation. We simply must—it’s our only hope.’
‘I don’t see that we can do anything,’ said Kuporovitch glumly, ‘but there’s the United States.’
Gregory shook his head. ‘America may come in before it’s finished, but not for a long time yet, and in my opinion she’s not likely to do so unless she feels that Britain is really going under. Of course, President Roosevelt and the Administration are a hundred per cent, for us. I think the majority of Americans are too, but, apart from a few adventurous fellows, they won’t fight unless they feel that they’ve absolutely got to. It’s not sufficiently realised over here either that there are still enormous numbers of people in the States who are definitely Axis sympathisers. Chicago is almost a German city. New York has its great Italian colony. Then there are the Irish, many of whom are by no means pro-British. Back in England we all feel that the President is doing every possible thing he can to help us; but he has to watch every step he takes, and it’s one hell of a big job to educate the isolationists of the Middle West up to the fact that their freedom, lives and property are just as much threatened by Hitler’s bid for world power as our own. Nothing short of a full declaration of war with the employment of the United States Armed Forces could bring about the sort of change in the situation of which we’re thinking, and I’m quite certain that’s not going to happen for a long time.’
‘Getting back to Hitler,’ said Madeleine. ‘If we can’t assassinate him, isn’t it possible for us to discredit him in some way in the eyes of his own people? For instance, couldn’t you manage to get some documents faked in London which would prove that Herr Schickelgrubber is really a Jew?’
‘That’s a good idea,’ Gregory laughed, ‘but, unfortunately, we can’t carry it into practical application. You see, the entire Press of Germany and all the countries which she has overrun is controlled by the Nazis. They would never allow the publication of the evidence, and to put it over by the B.B.C. wouldn’t do much good, because even if it were true Goebbels would simply laugh it off as British lies and propaganda.’
‘You remember Father Xavier, Gregory?’ Kuporovitch remarked. ‘What he said made me think a lot. You remember how he views the struggle as a war in which Christianity must be wiped out unless Hitler Antichrist can be destroyed? Surely enough has not been made out of that, and a new orientation could be given to this Civil War if the heads of the Churches preached a new Crusade—particularly the Pope. A declaration by His Holiness might even cause widespread dissension in the German and Italian Armies. I mean, of course, if the Pope was prepared to go all out, denounce Hitler from his private radio as a menace to all established religion, and call upon every Catholic in the world to give his life, if need be, in exterminating the pagan Nazis.’
Madeleine nodded. ‘That would be the greatest blow of all which could conceivably be struck to bring about the sort of situation that I mean.’
‘Yes,’ Gregory murmured. ‘That would be the real big stuff. Of course, if the Pope came out on our side like that he’d be seized and imprisoned by the Italians, but plenty of Popes have suffered for their faith in bygone days, so I see no reason at all why His Holiness should not be prepared to now. In fact the stronger the measures taken against him personally the greater would be the effect of his call to battle. He’s certainly no friend of the Nazis, as it is, but I expect he fears that if he raised the whole of the Catholics against them his priesthood would be massacred.’
Madeleine shrugged. ‘His passivity did not prevent the Catholic priests in Poland being massacred, and the more priests who suffer martyrdom for their faith in the rest of Europe the more intense the indignation of all religious people would be. There would be risings everywhere, and the German garrisons would be butchered overnight by a furiously indignant people. It might mean a blood-bath for a week, but what is that if only it resulted in a quick ending to the war?’
‘You’re right again,’ Gregory smiled, ‘but unfortunately in this case I’m afraid we’re up against Vatican politics. One must remember that Dictators are here to-day and gone tomorrow, whereas the Papacy goes on for ever, and its policy does not consider this year or next, but deals in centuries. The Pope’s advisers have probably come to the conclusion that even if Hitler wins this war he will find the whole world too big to swallow, and the Nazis will bust, as a result of their conquests. In that case, after having had to go underground in Europe for a few years, the Roman Church would come into its own again, and emerge stronger than ever on account of the persecution that it had suffered. In any case, there’s no way that I know of in which we can bring practical pressure to bear on the Pope, so it seems to me that we’re getting outside practical politics.’
‘I agree,’ declared Kuporovitch, ‘but how about Communism? Much could be done, I believe, if a campaign could be launched to foster Communism in the German Army. In the last war it was the spread of Communism by the German troops, who had been indoctrinated with it during their garrisoning of the territories that they overran in Russia, which contributed just as much as the British Blockade to the final collapse of Germany. I’ve always maintained, too, that in the present war, if Stalin did decide to come in against Germany, it would not be by force of arms. He would send over the Red Air Force with millions of leaflets, and thousands of German-speaking parachutists would be dropped to raise the German workers against the Prussian military caste who have always been his nightmare. Of course, Stalin would not attempt anything of that kind until Germany appeared to be actually on the point of collapse and the occupied territories already in a state of revolt; but if he ever attacks Germany at all I’m certain that is the way he will do it.’
Gregory grinned. ‘You’ve sabotaged your own suggestion by saying that he would never do it until Germany is already on the verge of anarchy. In the meantime, what hope have we got of spreading Communism in the German Army on a scale large enough to do any good?’
‘I’m afraid I must leave you now,’ said Madeleine, standing up. ‘I must get off to my job at the nursing-home. But I do feel terribly strongly about this, Gregory, and when you get back to London please talk it over with all the cleverest people you know. It’s infinitely more important than things like this little revolt in Iraq, or even the slaughter that’s going on in Greece just now. Some way must be devised to deal a really mighty blow against Hitler and the Nazis during the coming year, or by the time that the British are really strong enough to come to the rescue of all the wretched millions in Europe it will be too late.’
When they had seen her off and settled down again Kuporovitch said with a sigh: ‘Poor darling! She would give her own life without hesitation, I believe, if she could bring the downfall of the Nazis even one day nearer. It is strange to see such bitterness and fanaticism in one so young and beautiful, but her fiance’s death made a terrible impression on her, and just as I was beginning to hope that she was becoming a little less obsessed with her desire for vengeance above all else, her mother dies of cold. That, too, of course, she puts down to the Nazis, although they were only indirectly responsible. God knows I hate the brutes enough myself, but to overcome a wild beast one must keep calm, and I dread this spirit in Madeleine, fearing always that it will land her one day in some awful danger. After all, what the freedom-fighters have been doing is not so bad, and it’s no good crying for the moon. This desperate urge of hers to precipitate some form of crisis is not only impracticable but damnably dangerous.’
‘On the contrary, Stefan, she’s right,’ said Gregory quietly. ‘I’m sorry to say that back in England we have far too many complacent people, who believe that just because we won the Battle of Britain last autumn we’ve only got to sit tight now, and in due course Hitler will bust himself.
‘He won’t bust himself—why should he? Since his extraordinary victories of last summer the German Army and people have been behind him as never before, and now that he controls such a vast area of territory our Blockade may still prove a nuisance, but that alone can’t possibly overcome him. Whoever may have to go short of things you may be quite sure that the Germans will be the last to suffer. You can bet too that by this time their agricultural experts are hard at it all over the place planning to raise bumper crops next summer. They’ve masses of labour, more than they know what to do with, now that the Armies of the countries they have overrun have been disarmed and disbanded. Too many people are saying that time is on our side—it’s not any longer, at least not as far as rescuing the people of Europe from their oppressors is concerned.
‘That’s where Madeleine has hit the nail on the head. By the time the Germans themselves are down to really short rations, so that our bombing will reduce them to a state where they find themselves properly up against it and start to squeal for peace, everyone else in Europe will have died from starvation.
‘It may have been that belief which caused our Government to send troops into Greece with the idea of establishing a new front in Europe. I don’t know, but in my view it was very wrong and completely futile. The few divisions that we could send can’t possibly stand up against the vast weight of the German Army, so they’ll only be slung out again with a further loss of prestige for Britain, and a useless sacrifice of highly trained personnel and valuable material. Total War is Logical War, and chivalry is not logic, so by the Greek adventure we are only making our position worse than it was before; but because our people have gone the wrong way to work it doesn’t alter the fact that we dare not sit still. Unless the war is to drag on for ten years and end in the utter exhaustion of both sides with a peace of compromise, something has got to be done to give it an entirely new orientation.’
‘I admit that you convince me,’ Kuporovitch murmured. ‘Here I have been too close to things, and with no one to, talk to who understands the wider aspects, so as a result of the last few months I have become a cabbage. Are you very tired, or shall we talk some more? It is only by hammering these things from every angle that one sometimes gets somewhere.’
‘No, I’m not tired,’ Gregory said. ‘These last few months I’ve stored up enough sleep to do on quite small doses for a while, but I’d like another drink.’
‘Right then.’ Kuporovitch stood up, and going down to the cellar returned with two more bottles. They talked then of the High Direction of the war, going round the world and back again, staring for hour after hour at a map which Kuporovitch had pinned up on the wall of the dining-room, as they tried to forecast what Hitler’s next move might be; and assessed the chances of one country or another coming in against or with him. Both of them were extremely well informed on military matters and had a first-class knowledge of history and geography; so, allowing for the ingenuity, speed and determination with which the Nazis always struck, they were able to assess within a reasonable degree the possible result of new moves upon the vast chessboard.
It was after four o’clock in the morning when they had reached the conclusion that there was only one move on the board which would mean checkmate to Hitler within a foreseeable period, and that upon whether it was made or not hung the lives of all the millions that Hitler had enslaved.
The difficulties of creating such a situation as would force that move to be made were immense, but these two men had never allowed difficulties to deter them from any project upon which they had agreed, and when they at last went up to bed they had already decided upon the measures which they must take in the hope of bringing about the desired move.
For the next few days there was nothing that Gregory could do, as before he could initiate his plan he had to see Lacroix and secure the Colonel’s agreement and co-operation, so he spent most of his time wandering about Paris talking to casual acquaintances that he picked up in the bars and getting a line on the feeling of the population of Paris for himself.
As most people had foreseen, affairs in Greece were going badly. The small but gallant Imperial Army was being forced back by sheer weight of men and metal. All organised resistance in Yugoslavia had already been overcome, and the Greeks too were now in a bad way. On April the 22nd their Army of the Epirus, consisting of a quarter of a million men who had covered themselves earlier in the year with such undying glory in Albania, was forced to surrender through lack of supplies and being cut off from its bases.
It was on that day that Lacroix again arrived in Paris, and Kuporovitch was notified by Ribaud of a meeting which was to be held that night. A few minutes before ten, with Gregory beside him, he entered the house in the Avenue d’Orléans.
Lacroix welcomed Gregory with the utmost enthusiasm, congratulating him on his escape from death and the excellent recovery he had made. The conference then took place, and when it was over Gregory told Lacroix that he and Kuporovitch wished to talk to him in private; so the three of them went into a small library adjoining the big room in which the meetings were held, and when they had sat down Gregory put forward his proposals.
The little Colonel listened patiently, his hands folded on his stomach and his wisened face turned down in an attitude of contemplation, so that they could not see the reactions in his quick dark eyes. When Gregory had finished he looked up and said:
‘There is much in what Madeleine Lavallière says, mon ami. We are but poor mice nibbling at the great beast’s cloven hoof, and for many months to come I see no hope of our inflicting any wound that will really be felt upon it; but what you propose is a most desperate gamble. By doing as you wish I stand to lose the services of many of the best members of my organisation. It is almost certain, too, that some of them, or at least their nearest and dearest in their places, would be arrested and find themselves in a German concentration camp. If I were certain that you could bring it off I would agree. Your reasoning is sound and the idea is magnificent. It would be the greatest coup in history, but the odds are too big against its succeeding. No—I cannot give my consent to this amazing plan that you have hatched.’
When Gregory had once made up his mind about a thing he would never take ‘No’ for an answer, even from this great little man whom he admired so much. He had brought the map with him, and taking it from his pocket he spread it out on the table: then he proceeded quietly and clearly to go over the various possibilities of the future so far as they could be foreseen, just as he and Kuporovitch had done together a few nights before. In the end he produced the same conclusion: his proposal was the sole hope of bringing about the one and only move in the board which might prevent the war dragging on for years of ever-increasing horror, and save the 140,000,000 captive people of Europe from a creeping death by undernourishment and its attendant diseases.
For two hours they argued and wrangled; then at last Lacroix stood up. ‘You win, mon ami; you have convinced me against my will. I will say that it is sheer madness, but it is our only hope, and for that reason I am prepared to gamble the lives of those who trust me and who are the principal support of our whole movement here in Paris on it.’
So, the great decision was finally taken.