V for Vengeance Read Online Free

him.’
    â€˜He doesn’t know that you’re here, though,’ said Madeleine, striving to reassure herself; ‘and even if he did he wouldn’t give you away, would he?’
    â€˜Not deliberately; but he has no idea that I work for the
Deuxième Bureau
, and the Germans wouldn’t be fools enough to tell him that if they caught me they meant to kill me. They’ll probably put up a plausible yarn about wanting to see me on some formality, and the old boy might fall for that. If so, he’d give them certain addresses where they might look for me; and this one among them. I’ll have to throw overboard any idea of recovering my clothes and just drift round as I am until I can get others. In any case, it isn’t safe for me to stay here any longer.’
    Going up to him she put her arms round his neck and exclaimed: ‘Oh, my darling! I’ve seen you only for such a little time! But of course you must go if there’s the least chance that they might come here—and go at once. At once!’
    For a moment they remained embraced while he kissed her very tenderly; then she said: ‘You’ll manage to let me hear from you, won’t you? You must,
chéri.
I shall be half-crazy with anxiety.’
    He nodded. ‘I’ll do my best, but you mustn’t worry if you don’t hear for a few days.’
    â€˜Perhaps, later on, I can help you in your work?’
    â€˜I don’t want to involve you in that. It will be dangerous.’
    â€˜I don’t care.’
    His quick smile came again. ‘To hear you say that comforts me more than anything that anyone could say on this tragic day. It seems almost as though our poor France has been like a man afflicted with blindness who is stricken down by some brutal unseen enemy; yet, thank God, there are still some of her children who can see clearly. Those of us who can must never waver in our faith, and whatever the cost to ourselves fight on until France is once more free.’
    â€˜I will fight with you, Georges,’ she smiled up at him. ‘You know that, don’t you? To the bitter end—if need be.’
    He stooped his head and kissed her, then letting her go he moved towards the door.
    â€˜Wait!’ she called after him. ‘You said that you had very little money. I have some here. Wait, and I will get it.’
    She had just remembered that, in addition to the nursing fees and a handsome present which Gregory had given her, she had the
mille
notes which he had thrust into her hands to ensure Kuporovitch a decent burial. Hurrying into her bedroom she got her bag, and she had no hesitation in taking the notes, as well as her own money, from it. In times like these the living were infinitely more important than the dead, and she felt too that Gregory himself would approve her action.
    As she came back into the sitting-room she saw Georges’ face intent with listening, and a second later she caught thetread of heavy feet upon the stairs. Halted in her tracks, she stood there, grasping the banknotes in her hand, her mouth half-open. The door-bell rang.
    Georges swiftly waved her away and drew an automatic from a holster that was strapped under his left armpit. The bell rang again; then a voice came:
    â€˜Madeleine! Are you home? It is Luc Ferrière.’
    With a gasp of relief she started forward to open the door, but Georges grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her back. In her relief at learning that it was his uncle she had forgotten that Uncle Luc had been taken from his house by the Germans and so might not be alone.
    For a moment there was a deathly silence, then outside a gruff voice muttered something. The sound of shuffling steps came clearly, then a thud as a heavy boot crashed against the lock of the door; the wood splintered, and it flew wide open.
    A group of black-uniformed German S.S. men stood there; with them was Uncle Luc. One of the men pushed him inside, and the