He bundled them into the back of the car.
Then he turned back to their mother.
'They're very happy,' he said gently. 'That's the main thing, after all.'
He got into the car; it moved off down the road, and that miserable business was all over.
He sat in the middle of the seat with one child on each side of him for equity in the facilities for looking out.
From time to time one saw a goat or a donkey and announced the fact in mixed French and English; then the other one would scramble over the old man to see the wonder.
Howard spent most of the drive putting them back into their own seats.
Half an hour later they drew up at the station of Saint-Claude.
The concierge helped them out of the car.
'They are pretty children,' he said in French to Howard.
'Their father and mother will be very sad, I think.'
The old man answered him in French: 'That is true.
But in war, children should stay quiet in their own country.
I think their mother has decided wisely.'
The man shrugged his shoulders; it was clear that he did not agree.
'How could war come to Cidoton?'
He carried their luggage to a first-class compartment and helped Howard to register the portmanteaux.
Presently the little train puffed out up the valley, and Saint-Claude was left behind.
That was the morning on which Italy declared war on the Allies, and the Germans crossed the Seine to the north of Paris.
Chapter 3
Half an hour after leaving Morez the children were already bored.
Howard was watching for this, and had made his preparations.
In the attache case that he carried with him he had secreted a number of little amusements for them, given to him by their mother.
He pulled out a scribbling-pad and a couple of coloured pencils, and set them to drawing ships.
By the time they got to Andelot, three hours later, they had had their lunch; the carriage was littered with sandwich wrappings and with orange peel; an empty bottle that had contained milk stood underneath a seat.
Sheila had had a little sleep, curled up by old Howard with her head resting on his lap; Ronnie had stood looking out of the window most of the way, singing a little song in French about numerals - Un, deux, trois, Allans dans les bois - Quatre, cinq, six, Cueillir des cerises...
Howard felt that he knew his numerals quite well by the time they got to Andelot.
He had to rouse Sheila from a heavy slumber as they drew into the little country station where they had to change.
She woke up hot and fretful and began to cry a little for no reason at all.
The old man wiped her eyes, got out of the carriage, lifted the children down on to the platform, and then got back into the carriage for the hand luggage.
There were no porters on the platform, but it seemed that that was inevitable in France in war-time.
He had not expected it to be different.
He walked along the platform carrying the hand luggage, with the two children beside him; he modified his pace to suit their rate of walking, which was slow.
At the Bureau, he found a stout, black-haired stationmaster.
Howard enquired if the Rapide from Switzerland was likely to be late.
The man said that the Rapide would not arrive.
No trains from Switzerland would arrive.
Dumbfounded, Howard expostulated.
It was intolerable that one had not been told that at Saint-Claude.
How, then, could one proceed to Dijon?
The stationmaster said that Monsieur might rest tranquil.
A train would run from the frontier at Vallorbes to Dijon.
It was incessantly expected.
It had been incessantly expected for two hours.
Howard returned to the children and his luggage, annoyed and worried.
The failure of the Rapide meant that he could not travel through to Paris in the train from Andelot, but must make a change at Dijon.
By the time he got there it would be evening, and there was no knowing how long he would have to wait there for a train to Paris, or whether he could get a sleeping berth for the children.
Travelling by himself it would have been annoying: with two children to look after it became a serious matter.
He set himself to amuse them.
Ronnie was interested in the railway trucks and the signals and the shunting engine; apart from his incessant questions about matters that Howard did not understand he was very little trouble.