CHAPTER XVI
THE WHITE CLIFFS
THE day had been very sultry and soon after midnight the storm broke. It lasted for nearly an hour and the thunder boomed and roared like a great artillery barrage, while the flashes of lightning, at times an almost continuous flicker, revealed us clearly as we crouched under a tree trying to shelter from the beating rain. It was no good; we were soaked to the skin in five minutes.
After a time the storm faded away in the distance and the wood fell quiet again save for the steady drip from the soaking trees. Carnac and I took off our coats and Giselle lay down on them and tried to get some sleep while we walked a few yards away and talked in low tones.
For the first time since we came to France my companion's fertile imagination and ready wit seemed to have run dry and I must confess that I could do no better. We discussed every possibility, but there seemed no chance of escape at all. At this moment a man hunt on the very greatest scale was being organised for our benefit. All roads and villages would be watched, all transport searched; by now they would have traced our escape route from Laon and by enquiring further along the road they would know that we had not travelled far. That narrowed down the field of search considerably and the discovery of the car at dawn would clinch the matter. As Carnac said, a few kilometres either way made no difference.
I had escaped a search once before, but this was going to be on a much greater scale and moreover there were three of us now, including a girl. One of us alone might have made it, but three….
“Well,” said Carnac, “if this is to be the end, at any rate I wouldn't have missed it for anything. We've done what we set out to do and we've killed a few Boches as well as that bastard Passy, and we may kill a few more tomorrow, before they get us. It's been worth it all right.”
I grunted agreement. It had been worth it, by God, and looking back now I wouldn't have missed it either. But for Giselle I would have been quite content and I had made up my mind to shoot her at the last moment rather than let the Gestapo get her.
Pursuit of Passy Page 38
