Echoes Page 0,93

German army camped on their doorstep, she was once again in grave danger.

“You've been so good to me,” she said to both of them, as they shared a Christmas goose on Christmas Eve in the kitchen. All she could think about, as she picked at it, was if her mother and sister were still alive then. There had been no message from them since they were taken to Ravensbrück in April. Sometimes when they arrived at the camps, deportees were allowed to send a single postcard, and Beata would have sent hers to the Daubignys so they could pass the word to Amadea. None had come.

It was the day after Christmas, before dawn, that Gérard opened her door, looking grim-faced. The Kommandant had told him the night before that he wanted a full inspection tour the next morning. So far, Gérard was sure he suspected nothing. But in the morning, he would be unlocking every door, from the wine cellar to the tower. They had already helped themselves to a dozen cases of wine, and two barrels of cognac.

Gérard had the information Amadea needed. He knew where the farmhouse was, with the tunnel, and told her that they'd be waiting for her. He handed her a small map and explained how to get there.

“How will I find it?” she asked, looking worried, and realizing again how lucky she had been to be there since April. Now she had to take her chances. The farm was fifteen miles away, over rough countryside. If she could get there, they were willing to hide her. First, she had to get past the soldiers in the stables. Gérard said it was too dangerous to drive her. It would draw attention to the farm if he drove there, and they had asked him not to.

“I put one of the horses in a shed for you,” he said quietly. “Just head north and keep going. The landmarks are written on the map. They'll be watching for you. You can let the horse loose and send him back when you get there.” He wanted her to leave before sunrise. They sat in the dark in their room, talking softly. They didn't want the soldiers to see the lights on. Half an hour later, Gérard walked her downstairs with Véronique. They hugged her for a last time. Véronique had bundled her up warmly and kissed her like a daughter.

“Thank you,” Amadea whispered one last time, and clung to her for a last moment, and then Gérard hugged her.

“Get there as quickly as you can. The horse I left for you is sure-footed.” It was also one of his fastest. They opened the door then, and she went out into the darkness. She was startled by how cold it was. She hadn't been outside in eight months, and the cold air was a shock to her lungs, as she walked quickly toward the shed, opened the door, patted the horse he had left for her, and adjusted his saddle in the darkness. She had the map shoved into her pocket.

She led the horse outside, and he blew steam into the air. There were no sentries posted, and Gérard had told her all the soldiers were sleeping. She had nothing to fear as she left the Schloss. All she had to do was cover the fifteen miles to the farmhouse before sunrise. She mounted the horse easily. As she swung into the saddle, it reminded her of her years riding with her father. This was second nature to her, and as she always had, she left the grounds at a slow gallop. She steered a wide berth around the Schloss, and heard the horses in the stables. They were aware of her, but apparently none of the men heard her. She made an easy getaway, and enjoyed covering the distance. It was her first taste of freedom.

She pulled the map out of her pocket half an hour later. She could read it easily in the moonlight, and saw the first of the landmarks. She was only a few miles away now. The sky was a pale gray, but she knew she still had time to get there before sunrise.

She was within a mile of it, when she suddenly saw lights on her left, realized it was a car hidden in a clump of bushes, and heard a gunshot. For an instant, she wasn't sure whether to go backward or forward, and then without thinking, she kicked the horse and raced