Stranger at the Gates (27 page)

‘Anyone attempting to go to the school building is to be shot.' Vierken gave his order to the Major. ‘Nothing and no one is to be allowed inside or out.'

‘What about the teacher? She's in there with them.'

‘Leave her there. When the transport has come from Paris, she can go with them. Keep the men alert; they may try to attack when it's dark.'

‘And if they do. Standartenführer?'

Vierken looked at him as if he had said something stupid.

‘Set fire to the school. But let them know what'll happen if they start any resistance. I don't want a pitched battle here. I want an orderly operation, properly carried out. Heil Hitler!'

‘Heil Hitler!'

Jean and Louise de Bernard had been waiting at the back of the crowd. Jean had refused to be drawn into the hysteria reminding himself that Paul and Sophie were inside the building and that shooting or violence must be avoided. He had his arm round Louise; she was silent, glazed with shock. ‘They're all right,' he said to her. ‘Nothing's happened to them. Nothing will happen.'

Louise turned to look at him. Tears were running down her face. ‘You heard him; they're going to be taken away. He said we'd never see them again …' She was close to hysteria and Jean had seen one woman die already.

‘It's a threat,' he whispered. They won't carry it out. It's just bluff. My darling, calm yourself now. This is blackmail. I am going to see him and find out the position. Then we'll make up our minds.'

‘I want the children,' Louise said. ‘I want the children back. I'll give myself up!'

‘Hush,' Jean said gently. ‘We'll get them. We'll get all the children back. I'll take you home and then I'm going to the Château Diane.' He had decided to wait, to judge the reaction of Vierken to the crowd. What he saw hadn't reassured him, but he still believed it possible to talk reasonably with the man when they were in private. The S.S. were putting on a show of strength for the people of St. Blaize. Alone, Vierken would take a different attitude. He stood watching the staff car reverse and drive away. The crowd waited, numbed; no one had moved to pick up the woman who lay dead in the road. ‘Come home,' he urged Louise. ‘There's nothing to do here now.'

‘No. No …' She shook her head and pulled away from him. ‘I'm not leaving here …' He was still arguing with her when a woman came through the crowd and ran up to him, grabbing his coat. She stood in front of him, her face contorted with hate.

‘You bastard! You dirty collaborationist bastard! You got your brats out, didn't you?'

‘No, Madame Barzain,' Jean said quietly. She was the wife of St. Blaize's carpenter. ‘No, I didn't. Paul and Sophie are inside with the others.' Louise was staring at the woman, who didn't seem to see her. She was glaring at the Comte, her eyes wild.

‘You filthy liar,' she screeched at him. ‘I saw them leave the school—just before the S.S came! I saw that German from the Château come and take them away in his car! You knew what was going to happen, didn't you—you saved your own but you never warned us!'

‘What do you mean—what German—who took them?' Without realising it, Jean de Bernard seized her by the arm. ‘What are you talking about—for God's sake, woman, what did you see?'

‘I saw them!' she shrieked. ‘That German came to the school and took your children out! Just before the S.S. surrounded the others! I saw it—I'd come to collect my Pierre and Francine and I saw them go with him! God's curse on you, you filthy collaborationist pig!'

She drew her head back and suddenly spat at him. Louise gasped. Jean wiped his face with a handkerchief; Madame Barzain had begun to cry. He put his arm around Louise.

‘If that's true,' he said, ‘then my children are safe. But we knew nothing about it. We came down here like everyone else.'

‘Minden,' Louise said; she felt dazed, too afraid to hope. ‘It must have been Minden …' Marie Barzain looked at them and her hate died in her. The Comte didn't know beforehand. He hadn't cheated to save his own and left the rest of the village's children to fall victim to the Germans. She spoke to Louise.

‘It was that Major,' she said. ‘I know him by sight. He took your children away in his car.' She didn't look at the Comte.

‘Before God,' Louise said to her, ‘I swear we didn't know. I thought they were in there with the others. You shouldn't have done that to my husband. All he wants is to help you!'

‘Forgive me,' Marie Barzain mumbled. ‘Forgive me—I didn't mean it—they've got my little ones …'

‘It doesn't matter,' Jean de Bernard said. He laid his hand on her shoulder. ‘We must all do our best to get them out. Where is your husband?'

‘In the crowd.' She began to sob. ‘He's like a madman … Oh my God, Monsieur le Comte—what are we going to do?'

‘I don't know,' he said gently. ‘But they're not going to take our children away. Somehow we're going to stop them. Go and find your husband and tell him to be calm. I shall go and see the S.S commander myself.'

‘Oh, go now!' she begged him. ‘Go right away—it'll be dark soon, they'll be so frightened!'

He turned to Louise. ‘I'm going to talk to Camier and Father Duval. We must keep this crowd calm, or there'll be more shootings. Wait here; I'll come back and take you home.'

He found the Mayor comforting his wife; the priest came up to them. He was a big man, with a coarse peasant face and a heavy paunch. He had been curé of St. Blaize for thirty years, a typical provincial priest, looked after by a spinster niece; what he lacked in refinement was more than compensated by personal courage and a kind heart. He pushed his way through to Jean and the Mayor.

‘What are we going to do? They can't do this—we can't stand by and let them take our children!'

‘My Caroline,' Camier moaned. ‘My little girl—my wife has fainted … Why have they done this—why, why? We never sheltered anyone!'

‘Be calm,' Jean said. ‘This is a punishment, a reprisal. But I don't believe they mean to do it. Father, I am going to see Standartenführer Vierken. I want you and the Mayor to come with me. We will be able to talk to him in private. I suggest that we offer our own lives and as many adults as he chooses as hostages instead of the children. I am prepared to pay a large fine, as well. We can give them men and money in exchange for the children. I think we will be able to strike a bargain.'

‘They can have everything,' Carmier cried, ‘everything I've got!'

‘They can have
my
hide,' Father Duval said. ‘And the church plate. That's all I've got. But you believe this, Monsieur le Comte? You think this is a bluff, to frighten us?'

‘I am sure of it,' Jean said. ‘What they're threatening is unthinkable. Nobody harms children. If we offer them a high enough price, we'll get the children back. I'm going to take my wife home, and then we should go to see this man. Are you agreed?'

‘Yes,' the priest said.

Camier nodded. ‘God knows I'm not a brave man. But to save my little girl—he can shoot me if he wants … I wouldn't want to live without her!'

‘Good,' Jean said. ‘Now Camier, tell the people we're going to plead with the S.S. commander. Tell them to be calm and wait here.'

The priest turned to him. ‘Where is Madame? She must be terribly distressed—I'd like to speak to her.'

‘She's waiting for us,' Jean answered. ‘But she's all right. Our children are not in the school.'

‘They're safe?' Father Duval stared at him. ‘And you're going to stand as a hostage?'

‘My first duty is to my family, Father. The second is to the people of St. Blaize. The fact that my children are not in danger alters nothing. We should go now.'

Jean de Bernard's aunt had lived in Paris since her husband's death. For twenty-three years she had been mistress of a large seventeenth-century château and an estate in the Loire Valley. Her husband was not concerned with the smart world to which his wife aspired. He was older by ten years and devoted to his home and his life in the country. The Baronne de Cizalle saw very little beyond the Loire valley until his death released her. She had relinquished her château to her son and a stalwart daughter-in-law who was obviously longing to manage it, and bought herself an apartment on the Rue St. Honoré. She didn't approve of Germans, but she was polite when she met them, since only the better connected officers came into her circle, and she ignored the unfortunate weakness some of her younger friends betrayed for handsome members of the Herrenvolk. To her credit, Pauline de Cizalle had never received the S.S. or actively courted the conquerors herself. So far as a member of her family was concerned, like Régine, she would have rigidly opposed any close relationship. She was dressing to go out to dinner when Minden arrived at her flat with the children. She heard the voices, and sent her maid to see who it was; the maid was followed by Paul and Sophie who rushed forward to embrace their aunt. Both children were too excited to explain why they were there. The Baroness hurried through the rest of her toilette and came into the salon. She paused at the sight of her neice Régine and a German officer, both looked strained and Régine positively stricken. There was a moment of awkward silence; her niece seemed disinclined to introduce the caller or even to speak at all. The Baroness collected herself and advanced upon the German, her hand outstretched, a polite if chilly smile upon her face.

Minden clicked his heels together and kissed her hand.

‘Major Heinz Minden, Madame. Forgive this intrusion.'

‘Not at all. I believe you've brought my nephew's children with you. I wasn't expecting them.

‘You couldn't have been told.' Régine spoke suddenly. ‘The telephones at St. Blaize have been cut off. The whole area is under siege.'

The Baroness forgot her social manners. ‘My God! What's happened?'

Régine looked at Minden. ‘You tell her,' she said. ‘Tell her what you told me.'

‘There's been two murders and sabotage,' he said. ‘The S.S. have moved in and taken control. I brought Paul and Sophie to you for safety.'

‘Safety?' Régine watched her aunt's well-pencilled eyebrows raise. She seemed bewildered. ‘What do you mean, safety? What have the children got to do with the S.S.? There aren't any Jews there, are there?'

‘No, Madame,' Minden answered her. He felt a pang of dislike, and he didn't know why. ‘This doesn't concern Jewish children. It's been decided to punish the people of St. Blaize by taking their children. I don't know whether they're going to kill them or send them to an extermination camp. I just got Paul and Sophie out in time.' He made a gesture with one hand. ‘I didn't know where else to take them.'

‘Sit down, Major Minden.' It was Régine who suddenly took control. She looked plainer than he had ever seen her; the determination on her face made her look ugly. ‘Sit down and tell us everything. Has anything happened to my brother? And my father?'

‘Nothing,' Minden said. ‘The S.S. came last night and questioned everybody, but they went away. They haven't found the saboteur, and they don't expect to now. The commanding officer is going to make an example of St. Blaize. I only heard it this afternoon. Operation Herod, that's what it's called. I couldn't warn your family; there wasn't time and anyway they'd have come to the Château to take the children. I just got to the school before the S.S. surrounded it.'

‘Thank you,' Régine said slowly. ‘Thank you, Major Minden.'

‘This is so terrible,' her aunt stammered. ‘I just can't believe it. I can't.'

‘Nor could I,' Minden said. ‘We've had to do many things, Madame, many harsh, regrettable things. But never this. Never using children as hostages. All I can say is that it's not us, not the German army. It's the S.S. and this man they've sent to St. Blaize. Adolph Vierken. It's him, not us.'

‘Did you say Vierken?' He glanced at Régine; he wondered whether he might ask for a drink.

‘Yes. Standartenführer Adolph Vierken.'

‘Régine—are we going to stay the night with you?' Paul de Bernard stood in the doorway, behind him Sophie's little figure flitted past as she ran down the passage. Régine de Bernard looked at him. ‘Yes,' she said. ‘You're going to stay here for tonight and maybe tomorrow. Go and see if there's some cake in the kitchen. Ask Juliette to give you some.' She shifted on one foot and brought herself back to face Minden.

‘You're sure it's Vierken?'

‘Certainly. I've spoken to him. He's in our headquarters. He came to the Château and questioned your family himself.'

‘Yes,' Régine said slowly. ‘I see. I suppose he was curious.'

‘Régine you talk as if you know this man?' Her aunt was staring at her. So too was Minden. A painful smile appeared on her lips. ‘Yes, Aunt Pauline. I know Adolph Vierken. Major, you say they've shut up all the children in the village?'

‘That was the plan,' he said. ‘I didn't try to find out details. They were surrounding the school with armed guards when I left. Mademoiselle de Bernard, I must leave very soon. I'm on my way back to Germany. That's how I was able to get the children out; I had a special pass allowing me to leave. I made them lie down in the back of the car. They thought it was a game.'

‘Your driver knows,' Régine said. ‘What about him?'

‘He's fond of the little ones,' Minden said. ‘I know that. He saw the S.S. coming to the school. He wouldn't do anything to hurt them.'

‘I'd better see what they're doing. Excuse me …' The Baroness got up. He had saved the children's lives. She couldn't feel gratitude; she felt only loathing and horror. It was a relief to go out of the room.