They walked the horses back to Hirson where the old man led the way to the church and met with the White Lady contact there. Father Raoul, the priest, was wrinkled like an ancient apple but willing to help. ‘Yes, a brother called Father Gaulle told me to expect a German refugee coming to cross to the other side. What was his name again? Something to do with fairy tales, I seem to remember.’

‘Grimm?’ Master DuPont said. ‘You are due to help a German called Grimm to cross?’

‘That’s it. Grimm. See? I’m not losing my memory. I have a permit to take a dead German across to the other side so he can be buried in his home. All the paperwork is correct. So this young man is called Grimm, eh?’

‘Yes,’ Aimee said quickly.

‘Come back here at midnight,’ the priest said. ‘We’ll pop him into a coffin and four strong men will carry him over. Once he’s in the church on the other side they’ll set him free.’

‘Thank you, Father. We’ll be back at midnight,’ Aimee said.

They hurried into the town centre, hunched against the cruel wind. They walked through the crowds of British soldiers marching east. ‘We’re so close to the German army but there isn’t the usual roar of the guns,’ Aimee said.

‘No, there’s not much fight left in the Germans now,’ Master DuPont explained. ‘The harder they fight the more chance the Germans have of being killed in a British revenge attack. They’re keeping their heads down. They say there will be peace next week.’

They ate well in a tavern near the town, where Master DuPont decided to stay the night. As the town hall clock chimed midnight Aimee and Marius were walking up the path to the church, the wind whining through the gravestones.

The inside of the church was lit by two lanterns. In the gloom there stood a black coffin. The lid was open. Marius seemed to tremble a little as he peered into its dark red satin lining. The four coffin bearers and the priest stood in silence.

Aimee bit down on her lip. At last she trusted herself to speak. ‘We can go home now.’

‘I owe you my life, Aimee,’ Marius said.

‘You saved mine back in Attilly,’ she replied. ‘I guess that makes us even. Now get in the coffin or I’ll take Master DuPont’s cane and knock you out.’

‘You’d do that too,’ Marius said with a lantern-lit shadow of a smile. ‘After all, we are enemies.’

‘We are,’ Aimee said. ‘But you are a good enemy to have. You went to war and hurt no one. You saved a hundred lives with your medicines.’

‘And you hate me still?’