V for Vengeance Read Free

have found me here. I’ve only just got back from a job, and you know
maman
can’t leave her bed. Why didn’t you get Madame Bonard to come up and let you in?’
    He shook his head. ‘I haven’t seen Madame Bonard. No one must know I’m here,
chérie.
I went upstairs in the next block, then over the roof and in through the skylight window on the landing.’
    Her elation left her as quickly as it had come.
    â€˜Georges!’ she whispered. ‘What is it? Are you in trouble? Is someone following you?’
    â€˜Not yet, I hope,’ he smiled. ‘But they soon may be.’
    And as she stared at him she thought again how his loose masculine figure, dark smooth hair and quick grin gave him a definite resemblance to the Englishman that she had been nursing back to convalescence.
    Although the day was warm he was wearing a light mackintosh, and pulling it off he asked her for a drink. Hurrying to a cupboard she produced a bottle of Denis Mounie Cognac and two glasses. As she set them down on a corner of the table her mother’s voice came, high-pitched and a little anxious, from the bedroom.
    â€˜What is it, Madeleine? Who is it with you out there?’
    Madeleine did not wish to alarm her, but for a moment could not think what to reply. Georges was holding his fingerto his lips, so it was clear that he too did not wish her mother to know about his visit. Opening the door a little farther she said:
    â€˜It is a friend of mine—one of the doctors from the St. Pierre. He was anxious about me now that the Germans are in the city.’ Then she firmly pulled the door shut.
    Georges had poured out two stiff goes of cognac. She sat down beside him, and they lifted their glasses, staring over them at each other in an unspoken toast. The strong spirit made Madeleine’s heart beat faster, but its mellow warmth seemed to give her new strength and momentarily to still her apprehension.
    â€˜Tell me,’ she whispered, ‘who is it that is after you? Why are you on the run?’
    Having gulped the brandy he drew a deep breath, set down his glass and took her small hands firmly in his.
    â€˜Listen, Madeleine,’ he said in a low voice. ‘It’s a long story—no time to go into details now. You know what is happening—what has happened—to our poor France. Some day perhaps we shall know whom to blame. At present we can only guess that many of our Generals have proved hopelessly incompetent and that many of our politicians have betrayed their trust. No one knows anything for certain, only that France has sustained an overwhelming defeat and now lies at the mercy of the enemy.’
    â€˜But the Army,’ she breathed; ‘it is still intact. Paris was only surrendered to save it from devastation. You cannot mean that the war is over and that we have already suffered final defeat?’
    â€˜I’m afraid so. The Army will not fight. It did not do so yesterday or the day before, so why should it fight tomorrow? I don’t understand it—no one does—but some extraordinary paralysis seems to have gripped all our soldiers. They just marched back and back, giving ground the moment the Germans appeared before them. They were so bemused that they did not even trouble to blow up the roads, which might have halted the advance of the Germans’ tanks. Nine-tenths of our men have not yet fired a single shot, but they are already a hopeless rabble whose only thought is further retreat. In a few days at most it will be over. We must face it, dearheart; for the time being France is finished.’
    â€˜But, Georges, this is too terrible! I—I simply can’t believe it!’
    â€˜Nor I. Yet my own eyes and ears tell me that it is the awful truth, and I have been caught up in the
débâcle.
In such a catastrophe one man’s life does not count for much, and if it were not for you, with France enslaved I think I’d almost