She and Bousquet packed the papers back together between the red cardboard covers and tied the twine around. The things held together okay and the priest put them both to the side. Simone Vaugeois stood up to remove the plates. I rose to help, but she dismissed me. “No, it is impossible. You’re a guest. But I wouldn’t mind if you carried these back to Gille’s library. I think I’ve damaged my knees carrying them.”

“Of course, ma’am.”

She pointed and explained how to get there. I picked up the binders and tucked each of them under an arm.

The library was upstairs and down a hallway and then around a corner. The door was open at the end of the corridor and I could see the bookshelves. The room was large with high ceilings. A country gentleman’s library with wood-paneled walls. Books from floor to ceiling, a big old desk with a leather blotter, and leather armchairs with appropriate reading lights. I set the binders down on the desk, careful not to disturb several framed photographs.

I recognized Simone Vaugeois in a few of the photos, all at least two decades old. I figured that the guy next to her was Gilles. They looked happy and healthy. Gilles was slim and a careful dresser, with a shock of brown hair. He wore a shirt and tie in all the photos. He was also interested in maps. That much was obvious. But not only maps, an entire bookshelf was taken up by technical publications relating to land and property. Old ordnance surveys were stacked from left to right. A large map of the region hung framed on the wall.

I went back down.

Bousquet was sitting alone at the big table. “Find it okay?” I nodded.

“A lot of maps.”

“Oh yes. Gilles liked maps. All kinds of things like that, he was a very interesting man. Which makes all of this so sad actually. But maps are a local sport.” Bousquet looked at me. “You see, we’re fascinated by the land under our feet. Thousands of years of history all around us. It’s the difference between Europeans and Americans. You can start over, it’s much harder for us.”

“Is he sick?”

“Your cousin was the victim of an attack. He suffered blows to the head.” Bousquet let that sink in. “Madame Vaugeois can explain it to you better than me. I don’t know the details like she does. There have been doctors and operations and hospitals involved. I think it’s complicated.” He changed the subject. “You are traveling around Europe now? Is it a holiday?”

I told him that I’d received my discharge from the military a week earlier. I was planning to roam around the world for a while. Not exactly a holiday, more like a ramble.

Bousquet said, “The American military. Did you serve anywhere interesting?”

“Depends upon what you mean by interesting.”