It was getting towards evening; the time was nearly eight o'clock.
They got the children down out of the cart and backed the horse till the load was in the right place to tip; then they tipped the wagon and Howard cleared it with a spade.
In a quarter of an hour the job was done.
Nicole said: There is time enough, and to spare.
If we go now to the estaminet, we can get supper for the little ones - coffee, perhaps, and bread and butter.'
Howard agreed.
They got into the empty cart and he jerked up the horse; they moved out of the stable yard and down the road towards the village.
At a turn of the road the whole entrance to the harbour lay before them, sunny and blue in the soft evening light.
In the long reach between the jagged rocks there was a fishing-boat with a deep brown lug sail coming in from the sea; faintly they heard the putter of an engine.
The old man glanced at the girl.
'Focquet,' he said.
She nodded.
'I think so.'
They went on down to the village.
At the estaminet, under the incurious glances of the German soldiers, they got out of the cart; Howard tied the bridle of the old horse to a rail.
Ronnie said in French: 'Is that a torpedo-boat?
May we go and see it?'
'Not now,' said Nicole.
'We're going to have supper now.'
'What are we going to have for supper?'
They went into the estaminet.
There were a few fishermen there standing by the bar, who looked at them narrowly; it seemed to Howard that they had divined his secret as soon as they set eyes on him.
He led the children to a table in a far corner of the room, a little way away from the men.
Nicole went through to the kitchen of the place to speak to Madame about supper for the children.
Supper came presently, bread and butter and coffee for the children, red wine mixed with water for Nicole and the old man.
They ate uneasily, conscious of the glances at them from the bar, speaking only to assist the children in their meal.
It seemed to Howard that this was the real crux of their journey; this was the only time when he had felt his own identity in question.
The leaden time crept on, but it was not yet nine o'clock.
Their meal finished, the children became restless.
It was still not nine o'clock, and it was necessary to spin out time. Ronnie said, wriggling in his chair: 'May we get down and go and look at the sea?'
It was better to have them out of the way than calling fresh attention to the party in the estaminet.
Howard said: 'Go on.
You can go just outside the door and lean over the harbour wall.
Don't go any farther than that.'
Sheila went with him; the other children stayed quiet in their seats.
Howard ordered another bottle of the thin red wine.
At ten minutes past nine a big, broad-shouldered young man in fisherman's red poncho and sea boots rolled into the estaminet.
One would have said that he had visited competitive establishments on the way, because he reeled a little at the bar.
He took in all the occupants of the estaminet in one swift, revolving glance like a light-house.
'Ha!' he said.
'Give me a Pernod des Anges, and to hell with the sale Boche.'
The men at the bar said: 'Quietly. There are Germans outside.'
The girl behind the bar wrinkled her brows.
'Pernod des Anges?
It is a pleasantry, no doubt?
Ordinary Pernod for m'sieur.'
The man said: 'You have no Pernod des Anges?'
'No, m'sieur.
I have never heard of it.'
The man remained silent, holding to the bar with one hand, swaying a little.