Part 11 (1/2)

'You could be fetching olive oil or wine from Monsieur Bonafacio, who is a sel er of such things in Peil e,' suggested madame madame.

'I'l remember it,' promised Ginger, feeling in his pockets to make sure that he had transferred everything from his own clothes.

Madame went through to the kitchen and returned with a parcel which she thrust in one of the panniers. went through to the kitchen and returned with a parcel which she thrust in one of the panniers.

'You wil need food,' she explained.

Ginger took the bridle and held out his hands. ' Au Au revoir, madame revoir, madame,' he said with sincerity. 'I shal always remember your kindness.'

' Adieu, monsieur Adieu, monsieur. Give my love to Henri if you see him.'

Ginger turned to Jeanette and took her hands. ' Au Au Ginger turned to Jeanette and took her hands. ' Ginger turned to Jeanette and took her hands. ' Au Au revoir revoir, Jeanette,' he said softly.

'You wil come back, monsieur monsieur?' she whispered.

'Not al the Axis*4 armies shal keep me from you,'

swore Ginger, and moved by an impulse he kissed her on the forehead.

Jeanette broke away and ran into the house.

Ginger turned to her mother. 'Have I done wrong?'

he asked in a hurt voice.

Madame smiled a knowing smile. 'I ran away from my husband just so,' she answered. 'Women are like that,' she added vaguely. 'I'l take care of her. Go with G.o.d, monsieur. monsieur. We shal pray for you.' We shal pray for you.'

Ginger raised his faded beret. 'Thank you, madame. Au revoir madame. Au revoir.'

He turned to the donkey, who was watching these proceedings with big brown eyes. 'Come on, Lucil e,' he said. 'Let's go.'

Holding the reins, fol owed by Lucil e, he set off down the narrow street.

Chapter 11.

The Cats of Castillon Stil hoping to see the girl in the blue shawl, Algy hastened up the hil to Monte Carlo, looked along the seats of the famous terraces in front of the casino, and walked through the s.p.a.cious gardens to the main road that runs behind them, the road that runs through Mentone to the Italian frontier, only a few miles distant. Observing an open market on the left he turned into it, stil seeking the girl in blue. There were many coloured shawls, but none of the particular tint he hoped to see. Several loungers were leaning against some iron railings, watching the scene, and he addressed them.

'Bon jour messieurs. What would be my best way of getting to Castil on?' What would be my best way of getting to Castil on?'

'To Castil on!' cried two of the men together.

'Yes.'

One of the men, looking at the sky as though invoking inspiration, exclaimed, 'Now, why would a man go to Castil on?'

Algy moved uncomfortably. He had a feeling he was on dangerous ground. 'It is just an excursion, to look round the place,' he said casual y, trying to pa.s.s the matter off as of no importance.

'An excursion! Ah, wel -that's different,' said another man, a swarthy Monegasque. 'n.o.body goes to Castil on, but if you take the autobus to Mentone, there is, I hear, a bus service once a day, some time in the afternoon, to Sospel, and the road pa.s.ses at no great distance from Castil on. Doubtless the driver would put you off there if you asked him.'

' Merci Merci. And where do I catch the bus for Mentone?'

The man pointed to the steps of a church. 'The bus leaves there at ten o'clock.'

Algy thanked the speaker, and glancing at the church clock, saw that he had more than an hour to wait, so he joined a noisy throng in a nearby cafe and made a breakfast of bread and imitation coffee.

Just before ten, seeing people beginning to col ect at the bus stop, he went over and took his place.

He found himself standing next to a dark, fierce-looking man, dressed in black, carrying a heavy shopping bag. To pa.s.s the time, and perhaps learn something of interest, he attempted to get into conversation with him, but received a rebuff so different from the usual courteous manner of the people that he was astonished. He said no more.

The bus came in nearly an hour late, a circ.u.mstance that appeared to occasion no surprise among those who waited for it. There was a rush that packed it to suffocation, after which, with a crash of gears, the driver set off at a pace that made Algy close his eyes, although the other pa.s.sengers continued to talk as though nothing unusual was happening.

Ten minutes later, in an avenue backed by tal white vil as, evidently the outskirts of an important town, the bus was stopped by two Italian police. It was a bad moment for Algy, who thought they might be looking for him. But this proved not to be the case. The police merely made the driver pul into a private drive, and informed him, and the pa.s.sengers, that the vehicle would be going no farther. They were advised to walk. No explanation was given. Algy got out with the others and walked the rest of the way into Mentone.

He became aware that a curious sort of excitement was in the air. Italian and French police were everywhere. People stood on their doorsteps, or looked down through their windows. Those in the streets formed in little groups, but when a group grew to more than half a dozen people it was broken up by police. Algy spoke to several people, but n.o.body seemed to know what was happening or else they were disinclined to comment. With some difficulty he made his way to the market in the centre of the town, from where, he was informed, the Sospel bus usual y departed. He noticed, without any real interest, that the swarthy bad-tempered man whom he had seen in Monaco, and later in the bus, had dropped his shopping bag against the kerb, and was also waiting, presumably, for the same bus. It was now nearly noon.

Algy made further inquiries about the Sospel bus, but the answers he received confused rather than helped him. Some people said it would go at two o'clock. Others said three. Others said it would not go at al . Contemplating walking, he asked how far it was to Castil on, but the inquiry was met with such curious expressions that he gave it up. One man said it was eight kilometres; another said it was twenty, and uphil al the way. Algy came to the conclusion that they were al mad, in which he did them an injustice; for the fact is, in a straight line, as an aeroplane might fly, it is but five miles from Mentone to Castil on; but as the road zig-zags through the mountains the distance is ten miles.

To pa.s.s the time he sat at one of the outside tables of a cafe from which he would be able to watch the bus stop, and made a fair meal of vegetable soup and fish. While he was sitting there a lorry fil ed with Italian troops roared through. Others fol owed. Then came tanks and armoured cars. Algy could not make out what was happening.

A radio loud-speaker presently solved the problem for him. In an official announcement the speaker informed the people that British and American troops had invaded Algeria and Morocco, and as a result the whole of France was being occupied by German and Italian troops.

This news shook Algy not a little, but as far as he could see it made little difference to his own private expedition, except that there would now be more enemy troops about, and the Italian police would no doubt tighten their grip on the civilian population.

It was after four when the Sospel bus, its radiator It was after four when the Sospel bus, its radiator spurting steam, drew in. Algy got a seat, but gave it up to an old woman with a basket of vegetables. He found himself standing next to the swarthy man whom he had seen in Monaco, and concluded that fate had decided to throw them together. Thinking perhaps the hards.h.i.+ps of travel ing had taken the edge off the man's il humour, he tried his luck again with a question.

'Is it possible that this bus wil ever reach Sospel?'

he asked, smiling.

The man's eyes stared into his own from a distance of about a foot, so closely were they pressed in the overloaded vehicle.

'I do not care whether it gets to Sospel or not,' was the curt reply.

'Ah! Perhaps you are only going as far as Castil on?' suggested Algy hopeful y, and was instantly appal ed by the expression of hate and fear that leapt into the dark eyes. 'What's the matter?' he went on. 'Is somebody treading on your foot?'

There was no answer.

'You'l have more room when I get out, for I'm only going as far as Castil on,' went on Algy cheerful y.

'How far is it?' he added.

The man almost hissed in his face. 'I've never heard of the place.'

'Oh,' said Algy. 'I was hoping that you would be able to tel me where to get off.'

After that he gave it up, and for nearly an hour he clung to a metal bar as the bus puffed and snorted, with innumerable stops, up a hil that seemed interminable. It panted and lurched round bends, some of them so sharp that the driver had to 'tack'