They went into a little bar and drank an absinthe together. Then they resumed their stroll along the pavement.

Morissot suddenly stopped again.

‘What about another one?’

‘I’m with you on that,’ concurred Monsieur Sauvage.

So they went into another small bar.

Coming out, they both felt extremely giddy, not surprisingly for people drinking on an empty stomach. The weather was mild and a slight breeze fanned their faces.

It went straight to the head of an already tipsy Monsieur Sauvage who, stopping in his tracks, said: ‘Come on, let’s go.’

‘Where to?’

‘Fishing, of course.’

‘But where?’

‘Our island, of course, where else? The French outposts are just by Colombes. I know Colonel Dumoulin. They’ll let us through, no problem.’

Morissot was quivering with excitement: ‘Right! You’re on!’

In an instant they split up and went off to collect their tackle.

An hour later they were walking side by side along the highway. They reached the villa used by the colonel as his headquarters. He smilingly indulged their whim and they set off once again, this time armed with a pass.

They soon crossed the line of outposts, passed through the deserted village of Colombes and found themselves at the edge of the small vineyards sloping down towards the Seine. It was about eleven o’clock.

At Argenteuil on the opposite side of the river there was no sign of life. The heights of Orgemont and Sannois dominated the whole countryside, and the vast plain which stretches as far as Nanterre was entirely empty apart from bare cherry trees and grey fields.

Pointing to the high ground Monsieur Sauvage murmured: ‘That’s where the Prussians are, up there.’

Looking at this wholly deserted expanse, the two friends were seized by paralysing anxiety.

‘The Prussians!’ Not one of them had they ever seen but their invisible, all-powerful presence had been felt for several months around Paris, bringing ruin on France, looting, murdering and starving the population. A superstitious terror was now added to the hatred they felt for this unknown race of conquerors.

Morissot stammered: ‘What if … what if we came across some of them? What would we do?’

With typical, irrepressible Parisian cockiness, Monsieur Sauvage replied: ‘We’d give them plenty of fish to fry, don’t you worry!’

But, intimidated by the deep silence of everything around them, they hesitated to venture into the open country. Finally Monsieur Sauvage came to a decision.

‘Oh, come on, let’s get going! Keep your head down!’ he said.