return some of the way to take each group, the last part of the way, to the barge, are we agreed?”
“That sounds Ok to me father.” I said, and told Harry that he would be going first with Fishy. They left the tomb and quickly disappeared into the gloom; I left the door open, wider than usual listening for anything unusual but heard nothing. I looked at my watch and then said to the Captain, “Might I suggest that you go next Sir, with Gunner Regis?”
“That suits me Bombardier are you ready Regis?” he said moving to the door.
“Erm I think we have to hang on for a few moments yet Sir.” Ronny drawled
“What? Oh yes, cloak and dagger stuff, what!” said the Captain, chuckling loudly and putting the fear of God into those of us left in the tomb.
A couple of minutes later I gave Ronny the word, wished him good luck and they set off through the door and off down the path. I couldn’t help but feel guilty saddling Ronny with the Captain but it was our best hope of keeping him under some sort of control.
Five minutes later Jack and I set off. The night was still and there was a new moon shining, it was reasonably dark, particularly when clouds passed in front of it. Jack and I kept up a brisk pace but remained cautious. On occasions, dependant on the fall of the land, we could see the moon reflected in the canal at the bottom of the hill, there appeared to be nothing in our way.
We were getting close to the old stable now and I thought that I’d caught a glance of the priest on his way back to meet us. We were just beginning to relax a little when we heard the sound of a powerful motorcycle. Moments later we saw the slot of yellow light from the headlight of a BMW motorbike and sidecar. It came to a stop at the end of the track leading to the canal. On the bike was a helmeted rider and in the sidecar a passenger, in the usual German helmet, sitting holding a machine pistol. Jack and I took cover behind a wall and watched just out of earshot, as a moment later the priest was stopped by the two Germans. A muffled conversation took place and we could see the priest start to relax and heard laughter from the little group. Out came the pipe and even from this distance, about thirty yards away, we caught the odd whiff of his awful tobacco.
Eventually the rider kicked his machine back into life and we watched as the Germans continued on their way, with much waving and shouted goodbyes from both the soldiers and the priest. He walked on towards us but when he got level with us gestured with his hand for us to stay hidden and whispered to us to stay quiet. He continued walking up the hill towards the church, how he knew what was going to happen I couldn’t have guessed but a couple of minutes later back down the path came the motorcycle. This time it turned towards us, as it followed the road up towards the church. They drew slowly level with the priest and then accelerated past him, waving and shouting to him as they did so and eventually disappeared from view.
We watched him wait for a few minutes and then turn and trot back to where we were still hidden.
“Come quickly we don’t have much time.” he said, heading off towards the canal path.
“Father,” I said, trotting along-side of him “how did you know they would come back?”
“Perhaps it was guidance from our heavenly father” he said, then turning to me with a smile he said, “Or maybe it was just because I knew the road they first took was not for vehicles, what you English call a dead end eh?”
We arrived at the barge, it was bigger than I had expected, about sixty foot long and at least ten feet wide with a wheelhouse at the rear. We were met there by a shabbily dressed man, who the priest introduced as Herve the barge -master. We were quickly taken on board, still accompanied by the priest, we were led below. The priest told us that Herve spoke no English but would communicate to us using Ronny as an interpreter.
The barge appeared to be
“That sounds Ok to me father.” I said, and told Harry that he would be going first with Fishy. They left the tomb and quickly disappeared into the gloom; I left the door open, wider than usual listening for anything unusual but heard nothing. I looked at my watch and then said to the Captain, “Might I suggest that you go next Sir, with Gunner Regis?”
“That suits me Bombardier are you ready Regis?” he said moving to the door.
“Erm I think we have to hang on for a few moments yet Sir.” Ronny drawled
“What? Oh yes, cloak and dagger stuff, what!” said the Captain, chuckling loudly and putting the fear of God into those of us left in the tomb.
A couple of minutes later I gave Ronny the word, wished him good luck and they set off through the door and off down the path. I couldn’t help but feel guilty saddling Ronny with the Captain but it was our best hope of keeping him under some sort of control.
Five minutes later Jack and I set off. The night was still and there was a new moon shining, it was reasonably dark, particularly when clouds passed in front of it. Jack and I kept up a brisk pace but remained cautious. On occasions, dependant on the fall of the land, we could see the moon reflected in the canal at the bottom of the hill, there appeared to be nothing in our way.
We were getting close to the old stable now and I thought that I’d caught a glance of the priest on his way back to meet us. We were just beginning to relax a little when we heard the sound of a powerful motorcycle. Moments later we saw the slot of yellow light from the headlight of a BMW motorbike and sidecar. It came to a stop at the end of the track leading to the canal. On the bike was a helmeted rider and in the sidecar a passenger, in the usual German helmet, sitting holding a machine pistol. Jack and I took cover behind a wall and watched just out of earshot, as a moment later the priest was stopped by the two Germans. A muffled conversation took place and we could see the priest start to relax and heard laughter from the little group. Out came the pipe and even from this distance, about thirty yards away, we caught the odd whiff of his awful tobacco.
Eventually the rider kicked his machine back into life and we watched as the Germans continued on their way, with much waving and shouted goodbyes from both the soldiers and the priest. He walked on towards us but when he got level with us gestured with his hand for us to stay hidden and whispered to us to stay quiet. He continued walking up the hill towards the church, how he knew what was going to happen I couldn’t have guessed but a couple of minutes later back down the path came the motorcycle. This time it turned towards us, as it followed the road up towards the church. They drew slowly level with the priest and then accelerated past him, waving and shouting to him as they did so and eventually disappeared from view.
We watched him wait for a few minutes and then turn and trot back to where we were still hidden.
“Come quickly we don’t have much time.” he said, heading off towards the canal path.
“Father,” I said, trotting along-side of him “how did you know they would come back?”
“Perhaps it was guidance from our heavenly father” he said, then turning to me with a smile he said, “Or maybe it was just because I knew the road they first took was not for vehicles, what you English call a dead end eh?”
We arrived at the barge, it was bigger than I had expected, about sixty foot long and at least ten feet wide with a wheelhouse at the rear. We were met there by a shabbily dressed man, who the priest introduced as Herve the barge -master. We were quickly taken on board, still accompanied by the priest, we were led below. The priest told us that Herve spoke no English but would communicate to us using Ronny as an interpreter.
The barge appeared to be
Similar Books
