Free Echo House by Ward Just

his own group and excludes no one, not even communists. His wife is with him. And their children are in England. My older brother works in Zurich with the Americans. I have no idea what he does, but I assume that it's unwholesome. He has always wanted to emigrate to America, and now I suppose he will. He wants to marry an heiress and live in California. Do you know any heiresses? He's very attractive. He speaks excellent English.
    That would be the way to do it, Axel said.
    You've covered all the bases, Fred said in English. And then in French, You're a luck)' man. You're drawing water from all the wells. No matter who wins, you're covered.
    Certainly, the count said with a look of surprise. Of course.
    Against all odds Axel found himself drawn to the Frenchman, his candor, his fragile dignity, his utter imperturbability. He believed his duty was to survive at all costs, and in this distant region he was landlord-by-right. And you, he said. Monsieur le Comte, what's your role in the family scheme of things?
    I am here, as you can see. Someone has to occupy the château and supervise the vineyards. The village depends on this domain for its livelihood. So that is my responsibility while the others are away. We go on as before. We get on as we have always gotten on. It makes no difference to us who is in charge at Paris. It made no difference in 1789 and it makes no difference today. The tumbrils never got this far south. They never will. There is only one road into this village, and you go out the same way. They do not care that we are here and we do not care that they are there. It is our duty to get on as best we can, theirs too. Sometimes it is a struggle, as when the Germans come. But my duty is to preserve and protect what we have and I do in my way what my father and brothers do in their ways. Sooner or later they will return, except for Alain, who I expect will emigrate to America. He has always wanted to be an American. When you have lived on one piece of land for a very long time you become proprietary about it. There is no difference between it and you. So you become stubborn.
    Sure of yourself, Axel said.
    Cowardly, Fred said under his breath.
    Shall we go in to dinner? the count suggested.
    They did not talk about the war at dinner and obviously avoiding Nadège was difficult. She was as lovely up close as she had been at a distance. Her hostility and sexual heat filled the room; and she was aware of this. She served the plates, filled the glasses with wine, and withdrew, strolling as if she heard music somewhere and wanted to join the dance. She sang softly to herself, her music easily heard over the desultory conversation, something to do with a pest that was attacking the grapevines. The candles began to gutter and throw fantastic shadows. The count droned on as Axel lost himself in his troubled thoughts. When Nadège removed the dinner plates, she seemed to glance fondly at the count, brushing his shoulder with the tips of her fingers; but he took no notice and did not look at her. Had they become lovers in the absence of her patriot, and was that the cause of her extraordinary aplomb? Absence usually created its own demands, especially when the rules were rewritten.
    Axel watched her turn and look through the door. She stared at him with high disdain. He thought she had suddenly recognized him as the enemy of her future, not liberation at all but occupation. America's future would be her future as well, this valley a part of the American empire no less than the Blue Ridge near Middleburg. And then her eyes slid away and she returned to her kitchen chores. The count and Fred Greene were debating modern French and German music, Massenet and Mahler, and which was the more timely. Axel apathetically sipped his wine, filled with an exhaustion that was close to despair. What was he doing in this place while armies raced across famished Europe? In Russia and the Pacific the corpses were accumulating in a vast