There was an attempt by the colonel to establish a date. The best that could be managed was that the events took place at some point during the first week of January. Not a Sunday.

“It was still light when they arrived?”

“It was the time between the light and the dark.”

“It was dusk?”

“Yes.”

“And how many did you see? Did you count them?”

“No. But it looked like twenty.”

“Twenty?”

“Maybe more, maybe less.”

“They came on horses?”

A shake of the head. “Only one with a horse.”

“Very well. We will come to that, the horseman, in due course. What was the first thing the men did in the village?”

“They shot Vitor Ramirez.”

“Why did they shoot him?”

“He would not give them bread.”

“He refused?”

“He had no bread.”

“What happened after the man was shot?”

“They burned his house.”

“And then?”

“They killed his son, Lino.”

“How old was he?”

The male witnesses conferred. “Twelve years old.”

“And then?”

“They brought the people out of their houses. The men they killed. The women they took away.”

“How many men did they kill?”

“We have buried nineteen.”

“They were all shot?”

“Some they hanged.”

“Hanged? Where?”

“The tree in the plaza.”

“Were any of the women killed?”

“They were not killed.”

“Where were they taken?”

“Into the houses.”

“Their own houses?”

“To whatever house was near.”

“And they were attacked? They were outraged?”

Here Lieutenant Medina paused, or rather he held the gaze of the colonel half a second longer as if to be quite sure of what he meant. To the witnesses they heard him use the word violar. The men nodded.

“And how long,” asked the colonel, “did the men, the soldiers, stay at the village?”

“They left two hours before it was light.”

“And before they left did they burn any more of the houses?”

“Nearly every one.”

“Is there a church in the village?”

“There is.”

“Did they burn the church?”

“Yes.”

“Then they left?”

“They left. Yes.”

“And how did you survive? The three of you?”

“We were hiding on the hill.”

“You could see the village clearly from the hill?”

“Yes.”

“Can you speak French?”

“No.”

“Can you tell the English language from the French language?”

“Yes.”

“You are certain?”

“Yes.”

“And the soldiers spoke English?”

“Yes.”

The colonel nodded. He ran a finger up the centre of his brow, smoothing it. He looked at Captain Henderson, then back to the witnesses. “Was there a man who commanded the soldiers? One who led them?”

“There was.”

“He arrived on horseback?”

“Yes.”

“What colour was his coat?”

The men turned to each other. No one had explained what their relationship was or their relationship to the woman and child. “A grey coat or a black coat. Brown perhaps.”

“And on his head?”

“A hat of fur.”

“Fur? You are sure? You could see that from the hill?”

“We were not on the hill when they arrived.”