‘I do too. But a girl’s word is not enough to execute a man. Give him enough rope to hang himself. Let’s wait till the time is right and we will silence the silver tongue of the traitor with the silver hand.’

21 April 1918: Bray

Master DuPont carried a silver-topped walking cane. He didn’t need it. He had been carrying messages and walking ten kilometres a day for over two weeks. He was growing stronger and fitter all the time. The cane made him look like an old man. When a German passed him in the street or out in the countryside he leaned and bent over the cane and hobbled. He appeared harmless.

Some days there were no messages to deliver so he headed east of Bray into the fields and woods where the Germans had settled. He had a compass set into the top of his walking cane. He measured the distance by counting his steps. When he got home to his little room above the town’s hat shop he made a mark on a map to show exactly where each German gun was placed.

On 21st April he visited the airfield and watched new planes being delivered. He made a note of them all, then took his note to the White Lady agent in Cerisy.

Returning home he saw a group of fighters as colourful as parrots flying towards the British in the west. They were led by a red triplane. ‘The Red Baron,’ he sighed. ‘An assassin.’

By the time he’d reached Bray the fighters were coming back to their airfield. The old teacher watched them. There was no red plane there.

He walked up to Colette Fletcher’s farm to let her know what he’d done that day. She served him with fresh bread and cheese. ‘The White Lady is lucky to have you.’

He looked at her for a long moment then said softly, ‘No one else in Bray knows.’

‘I will be careful,’ she said.

He nodded. ‘I know. That’s the way it should be. If one of us got caught we’d be tortured and made to tell who else is a spy. If you don’t know you can’t betray the rest of the group.’

‘But you told me,’ she said.

He laughed softly. ‘There isn’t a German torture cruel enough to make you talk, Colette.’

She shook her head. ‘No. But I have a weakness. Aimee. If they threatened to hurt her I would betray the whole of Bray.’

‘Then my life is in your hands...’

The door to the farmhouse kitchen crashed open and Aimee almost fell into the room. She was followed closely by the German boy soldier who was as pale as ever.

‘Maman, Maman, have you heard the news?’

‘Calm down, Aimee. Be careful what you say in front of the enemy.’