Part 50 (2/2)
”Quite, Monsieur l'Abbe. You feel rested?”
”I only dosed off a little.”
”Liar!” thought Fandor. He replied:
”That is just what I did!” Fandor yawned loudly.
”Will you get up first, Corporal? When you have finished dressing I will start.... In that way we shall not interfere with each other.”
”But, Monsieur l'Abbe, I do not want to keep you waiting.... Do get up first!”
”Certainly not! No, no! Do not let us stand on ceremony.”
Fandor did not insist. He was too pleased with his room-mate's request.
In next to no time--with a kind of barrack-room lick and polish--Fandor-Vinson had washed his face, had dressed, was ready.
”My dear Abbe,” said he, ”if you would like me to, I will ascertain whether your chauffeur is up, and will tell him to get ready to start.”
”I was going to ask you to do that very thing, Corporal.”
As the door closed on him, Fandor turned with an ironic salute towards the little priest.
”Much pleased!” said he to himself. ”And with the hope of never meeting you on my road without Juve on my heels to offer you a pair of handcuffs--the right bracelets for you, and richly deserved.”
Fandor did not awaken the chauffeur. He went into the yard: there he encountered the hotel-keeper. A brazen lie was the safe way, he decided.
”We have pa.s.sed a very good night,” declared he. ”My companions are getting ready.... I am going to see if the car is in order for our start.”
To himself Fandor added: ”As my little priest's window looks in the opposite direction he cannot see what I am up to.”
Fandor was an expert chauffeur. The car was fully supplied with petrol and water--was in admirable order. The hotel-keeper was watching him.
”If they ask for me,” said Fandor-Vinson, ”tell them I have gone for a test run, and will be back in three minutes.”
With that he jumped into his seat, set the car in motion, pa.s.sed beneath the archway and on to the high road. He turned in the direction of Barentin.
Fandor felt the charm of this early drive through the pastoral lands of Normandy. Hope rose in him: was he not escaping from the terrifying consequences of his Vinson masquerade!
”Evidently,” thought he, ”I must definitely abandon the role of soldier: the risks are too great: if the military authorities laid me by the heels, it would be all up with Fandor-Vinson!... The real Vinson is certainly in foreign parts by now, and safe from arrest....
I know by sight the head spies at Verdun, the Norbet brothers: the elegant tourist and his car, and that false priest!... I can continue my investigations better in my own shoes, and I can get Juve to help me!”
His thoughts dwelt on the mysterious abbe.
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