Pursuit of Passy

by David Moore Crook

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  I slept that night deep in a feather mattress in a little attic under the sloping roof of the farmhouse and when I woke up the following morning I could not think for a moment where I was or what had brought me to this bare little room, and then suddenly all the scenes of the previous day sprang back into my mind—Madame Cormier, the dovecote and the German soldiers. And today I must start my journey to Laon.

  I jumped out of bed, put on Cormier's old suit and then went out into the yard and washed under the cold clear stream of water from the pump. This freshened me up a lot and I went into the kitchen to find Madame bustling round the room surrounded by children and sundry dogs and cats. She gave me an excellent breakfast and about nine o'clock I rose to my feet, feeling ready for anything, and prepared to depart.

  She accompanied me to the door. Outside the sun was climbing slowly in a cloudless sky. I turned to her and we shook hands.

  “Goodbye,” I said. “You saved my life, and I can never thank you enough for all your help, but I promise you one thing and I want you to remember it. We are your friends and we shall go on fighting till we beat the Boche and one day—perhaps many years—we shall return to France and you will be free again. Au revoir.”

  “Au revoir,” she said and then added “Bonne chance.”

  I walked down the path and turned at the end to wave. She was still standing in the sunlit doorway, a sturdy figure with her pleasant face and old black apron. She waved back and I strode off through the orchard.

  Goodbye, brave Madame Cormier, and good luck. After the war I hope to return to Marckenface and find you still there, though I'm afraid Cormier will never get his suit back again.