Lucien dropped the reins, stepped down from the wagon, and greeted Madeleine by placing a hand on her shoulder.

Ollie stepped to Lucien. “Ollie,” he said, extending his hand.

The monk hesitated, then shook his hand.

Ollie noticed thick scaly scars on Lucien’s forearm. “Did you serve in the Great War with Guillaume?”

Lucien nodded.

“What’s your plan?” Boar asked, keeping his distance.

The monk produced a piece of slate, the size of a postcard, that was hanging from a string around his neck, then scribbled with a piece of chalk.

“He’s taken a vow of silence,” Madeleine said.

“Splendid,” Boar groaned.

Lucien flipped the piece of slate to read, Monastères.

“He plans to smuggle you through monasteries,” Madeleine said. “Until you reach zone libre and eventually Spain.”

“Does he understand English?” Boar asked.

Madeleine nodded.

Boar walked to Lucien. “How do you plan to get us to Spain?”

Lucien pointed to the wagon.

Boar shook his head. “Even if we fill it with straw, the Wehrmacht will search the wagon.” He glanced at the masked monk, then looked at Madeleine. “No disrespect, but he looks like he’s going to a bloody masquerade. He’ll do nothing but draw attention to us.”

“His name is Lucien,” Ollie said. “And he’s risking his life to help us.”

“He’ll get us shot at the first checkpoint.” Boar rubbed his broken eye, as if he were trying to get it to work.

Lucien climbed into the back of the wagon and worked his way to the front of the bed. He gripped a panel and tugged. A false wall opened, revealing a small space of less than two feet in depth, running the width of the wagon under the driver’s bench.

“Clever,” Ollie said. He looked at the hidden compartment, split in half with a horizontal board. The space was far smaller than their hole under the floorboards, but it appeared that there would be enough room for two men. He climbed into the wagon and wriggled into the lower half of the compartment, having to scrunch his limbs.

“It’s ludicrous,” Boar said.

Ollie squeezed out of the compartment, then stepped down from the wagon. “It’ll work.” He took the pistol from his jacket and slid it next to his belt, making certain that the lieutenant could see it. Speaking softly, so only Boar could hear, he said, “Madeleine will be shot if we’re found here. She’s done enough.”

Boar paused, then said, “Sorry about your news, Yank.”

Ollie’s face turned hot. He inched closer and stared into Boar’s lifeless eye. “Take Lucien and the wagon to the barn. Fill the back with manure.”

“Fucking rotter,” Boar hissed. “I don’t take orders from you.”

“I’ve got something to do before we leave.” Before Boar could respond, Ollie walked into the cottage.