Chapters (117)
- Cover
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- The Cast of Characters
- CHAPTER ONE
- The Recruits
- CHAPTER TWO
- CHAPTER THREE
- CHAPTER FOUR
- CHAPTER FIVE
- CHAPTER SIX
- CHAPTER SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINE
- CHAPTER TEN
- CHAPTER ELEVEN
- CHAPTER TWELVE
- CHAPTER THIRTEEN
- CHAPTER FOURTEEN
- CHAPTER FIFTEEN
- CHAPTER SIXTEEN
- The Missions
- CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
- CHAPTER NINETEEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY
- CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER THIRTY
- CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
- CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
- CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FORTY
- CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FORTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER FORTY-NINE
- CHAPTER FIFTY
- CHAPTER FIFTY-ONE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
- CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX
- CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT
- The Game
- CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SIXTY
- CHAPTER SIXTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SIXTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SIXTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-ONE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FOUR
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SIX
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER SEVENTY-NINE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-ONE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-TWO
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-THREE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-FOUR
- HOME
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-FIVE
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-SIX
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER EIGHTY-NINE
- CHAPTER NINETY
- CHAPTER NINETY-ONE
- CHAPTER NINETY-TWO
- CHAPTER NINETY-THREE
- CHAPTER NINETY-FOUR
- CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
- CHAPTER NINETY-SIX
- CHAPTER NINETY-SEVEN
- CHAPTER NINETY-EIGHT
- CHAPTER NINETY-NINE
- CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED
- CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
- Acknowledgments
- Discover More
- About the Author
- Reading Group Guide
- Discussion Questions
- A Conversation with Leila Meacham
- ALSO BY LEILA MEACHAM
One weekend later, from the nest of his armchair where he read the newspaper after dinner every night and offered opinions of its contents to his wife and son, Horace Barton commented, “Bad business over there in France. They found the tortured body of that famous French Resistance leader called the Black Ghost that makes the news over here ever so often.” An August moon shone through the living room window sheers whose draperies had not been drawn for the night. The Bell Telephone Hour was playing on the radio, and under the lamplight Bucky sat reading and Monique embroidering a pocket for an apron held tautly in place on a tambour hoop.
“I guess the Nazi bastards finally caught him,” Horace continued, “but it’s believed he never gave up a word of information. For a Frenchie, he must have been one hell of a man. Says here that he came from wealth and was a marshal in the French military, but he tossed it all to go live in the mountains as a chieftain of a guerilla band to fight the Krauts. Did you ever know or hear of him, Monique?” Horace glanced over at his wife. “Name’s Nicholas Cravois.”
Monique seemed to be having difficulty drawing her needle through the fabric and hadn’t been listening. Neither had his son heard a word. He was stroking his forehead in that way he had when concentrating hard on a book and had shut out the world. They rarely paid his views on the news front much mind, but that was all right with him. Horace took satisfaction in just having his family within sound of his voice in the evening, the radio playing softly, the room cozy and comfy. No matter what happened in the world, all was right in his.
* * *
In September, Victoria was asked to participate in a city fencing tournament. Suited in her whites, protective mask under her arm, foil in hand, she approached the mat at her turn of play and after the salutes, took her position on the en garde line. Suddenly a flood of memories swept over her, stunning her, and the foil’s grip burned like fire in her hand. She dropped the blade, tore off her mask, and to the astonishment of her opponent and spectators, walked off the mat to the dressing room and was never known to pick up a fencing sword again.
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE
CHAPTER NINETY-FIVE