Free Most Secret by Nevil Shute Page B

tall chimney at the gasworks. A boom across the entrance to the river between Plouarget and Creusec, turned back for ships to enter, and with one guard-ship. What seemed to be an oil-tanker beside the quay two hundred metres down-stream from the bridge. Five naval motor-launches. Two large twin-engined float seaplanes moored out to buoys. Two salvage ships …
    He left Lorient that afternoon and went to Audierne. He must go through with his trip in all sincerity, for on the coast of Brittany he was under observation the whole time. There was only a matter of five tons or so to test at Audierne. He condemned three sacks, apologised to the commandant on behalf of the S.A.F.C. de Corbeil, and left for Douarnenez two days later.
    It was February, and though the days were beginning to get longer, it was still quite dark by six o’clock. From Audierne to Douarnenez is not much more than fifteen miles, but the direct railway line was closed to all civilian traffic, and Charles had to make a long detour through Quimper. Here he had a long, indeterminate wait upon the station platform for a train that was indefinitely late.
    He went into the buffet and drank a cup of bitter coffee. The place was ill-ventilated, smelly and cheerless outside the night was mild, even warm. It was fine and starry. He went out on to the platform and began walking up and down.
    Presently he fell into conversation with a priest, a man perhaps fifty years of age, in shabby black canonicals.
    They talked as they walked up and down. The priest, Charles learned, was travelling to Douarnenez from a seminary at Pontivy; he was on his way to take up a new cure in the great Church of Ste-Hélène in the middle of the town. He told Charles quite simply the reason for the vacancy that he was to fill. His predecessor had been executed by the Germans.
    “You understand,” he said ingenuously, “that in my calling one is sometimes in a difficult position, more difficult than I anticipated when as a young man I joined the Order.”
    In the dim light of the stars Charles glanced curiously at his companion. Was this just the folly of an unworldly old man, or was it—courage? He could not resist the endeavour to find out.
    “A middle course is usually possible,” he said. He was mindful of the warning that he had received in Brest. “The Germans, after all, are men like ourselves. It is not necessary always to be finding means to irritate them.”
    The priest said very quietly: “The Germans are not people like ourselves. They are creatures of the Devil, vowed to idolatry, and followers of Mithras. If you deny that, you deceive yourself, my son.”
    Charles did not wish to argue; they walked a few paces in silence. Then the priest spoke again.
    “I am not one of those who consider matters of the earthly sphere,” he said. “Our life and our hope of things to come lie not in this world. I do not think it matters very much who exercises dominion over these fields of France, whether our race, or the Germans, or even the English, who in bygone times ruled here for a century. The Church does not concern herself with conquests of that sort. We fight against the conquest of the soul.”
    Half-heartedly Charles tried to turn the conversation into safer channels. “The Germans have their Lutheran religion,” he said. “The English also, and the Americans, and the Dutch. I do not see much difference.”
    The man said: “The English are not members of the true Church. They worship Jesus Christ in a foolish and misguided way, and as a social usage rather than a true belief. Yet theydo worship, and they have no other gods. And so it is with all the other countries that you name. But not with Germany.”
    “So much the worse for them, father,” said Charles.
    “You do not understand, my son,” the priest replied. “To gain their temporal ends the Germans first destroy the souls of men. The Church thinks little of the temporal end. The Church will fight to save the