Howard said at last:
'I am afraid I don't understand what you mean.
I don't know anybody called Charenton.'
'No,' said the German.
'And you do not know your Major Cochrane, nor Room 212 on the second floor of your War Office in Whitehall.'
The old man could feel the scrutiny of everybody in the room on him.
'I have never been in the War Office,' he said, 'and I know nothing about the rooms.
I used to know a Major Cochrane who had a house near Totnes, but he died in 1924.
That is the only Cochrane that I ever knew.'
The Gestapo officer smiled without mirth.
'You expect me to believe that?'
'Yes, I do,' the old man said.
'Because it is the truth.'
Nicole interposed, speaking in French. 'May I say a word.
There is a misunderstanding here, truly there is.
Monsieur Howard has come here directly from the Jura, stopping only with us in Chartres.
He will tell you himself.'
Howard said: 'That is so.
Would you like to hear how I came to be here?'
The German officer looked ostentatiously at his wristwatch and leaned back in his chair, insolently bored.
'If you must,' he said indifferently.
'I will give you three minutes.'
Nicole plucked his arm.
'Tell also who the children are and where they came from,' she said urgently.
The old man paused to collect his thoughts.
It was impossible for him, at his age, to compress his story into three minutes; his mind moved too slowly.
'I came to France from England in the middle of April,' he said.
'I stayed a night or two in Paris, and then I went on and stayed a night in Dijon.
You see, I had arranged to go to a place called Cidoton in the Jura, for a little fishing holiday.'
The Gestapo officer sat up suddenly, galvanised into life.
'What sort of fish?' he barked.
'Answer me - quick!'
Howard stared at him.
'Blue trout,' he said.
'Sometimes you get a grayling, but they aren't very common.'
'And what tackle to catch them with - quickly!'
The old man stared at him, nonplussed, not knowing where to start.
'Well,' he said, 'you need a nine-foot cast, but the stream is usually very strong, so 3X is fine enough.
Of course, it's all fishing wet, you understand.'
The German relaxed.
'And what flies do you use?'
A faint pleasure came to the old man.
'Well,' he said with relish, 'a Dark Olive gets them as well as anything, or a large Blue Dun.
I got one or two on a thing called a Jungle Cock, but -'
The German interrupted him.
'Go on with your story,' he said rudely.
'I have no time to listen to your fishing exploits.'
Howard plunged into his tale, compressing it as much as seemed possible to him.
The two German officers listened with growing attention and with growing incredulity.
In ten minutes or so the old man reached the end.