Echoes Page 0,114

and extended a hand.

“Welcome to Paris. Did you have a good trip?” She addressed Amadea in German, who in turn answered her in flawless French, much to their surprise. “We didn't know you spoke French.” They didn't have many details on her yet, only that she was a camp survivor, and had been rescued by the partisans near Prague. They said she needed refuge in France. And word was she could be useful to them. No one had explained how. But it was obvious to them now. She looked German and spoke flawless German and French.

Wolff sat down with two of the men in a corner then, and filled them in on what was happening in Prague, and what the German movements and plans were there. They spoke in low voices, and Amadea couldn't hear what they said.

The man who appeared to be in charge was looking Amadea over carefully. He had never seen a more typical Aryan, and she seemed to be equally at ease in French and German. “We were going to put you on a farm in the South if we could get you there safely. You certainly look like a German, an Aryan for sure. You're Jewish?”

“My mother was.”

He glanced at her arm—he knew she had come out of one of the camps. “You have a number?” She shook her head. She was perfect. He hated to send her away. They needed her in Paris. He was squinting thoughtfully as he looked at her. “Do you have good nerves?” he asked with a wry smile.

Wolff overheard them and vouched for her. “She was fine on the train.” And then with an affectionate look at his traveling companion, he said, “She's a nun. A Carmelite.”

“That's interesting,” the head of the cell said, looking at her. “Isn't having good judgment one of the requirements for becoming a Carmelite? And a good nervous equilibrium, if I remember correctly.”

Amadea laughed. “How do you know that? Yes, both, and good health.”

“My sister entered an order in Touraine. They were crazy to take her. She has terrible judgment, and bad nerves. She stayed two years and came out and got married. I'm sure they were happy to see her go. She has six kids.” He smiled at her, and Amadea felt a connection to him. They hadn't been introduced, but she had heard several people call him Serge. “I have a brother who's a priest.” He was the head of a cell in Marseilles, which he didn't volunteer to Amadea. He had trained with Father Jacques in Avon, where he had been hiding Jewish boys in the school he ran. Serge's brother was doing much the same thing in Marseilles, as were individual members of the clergy all over France, often on an independent basis. Serge knew a number of them. But he didn't want to make use of this young German woman as a nun. She could be far more useful in other ways. She could easily masquerade as a German, and pull it off flawlessly, if she had the guts. That's what he had to learn. “We'll keep you here for a few weeks. You can stay downstairs until we get your papers in order. After that you can stay with my grandparents. You're my cousin from Chartres. That should be religious enough for you.” She realized then that Pierre and Serge were brothers. The darkened room had the atmosphere of a factory, there was so much going on. Someone was running a small printing press in a corner. They were printing bulletins to distribute to buoy French spirits and tell them what was really happening with the war.

One of the women took Amadea's photograph then, for her new French papers. And a little while later, the other woman went upstairs and brought back food for Amadea and Wolff. After what she had seen at Theresienstadt, food seemed so plentiful to her now everywhere. She was surprised to find she was ravenous, as Serge continued to interview her. And a few hours later, Wolff left. He was going back to Prague.

He stopped to say good-bye to her before he left. “Good luck, Sister,” he said, smiling at her. “Perhaps we'll meet again.”

“Thank you,” she said, sad to see him leave. She felt as though they were friends. “God bless you and keep you safe.”

“I'm sure He will,” he said confidently. He stopped for a few minutes to talk to Serge again, and then he and Pierre left. He would change