V for Vengeance (28 page)

‘All right then. Since you're determined to attempt this crazy voyage we'll see what can be done to launch you on it.'

Having paid the bill they set out westward along the Plage. There were few people about other than small groups of German soldiers taking an evening stroll on the sea-front. No short-distance buses were running now, so they had the best part of a two-mile walk before them; but at length they
reached the Comte's villa, which lay right on the shore, on the extreme fringe of the town.

He was living there alone with a single manservant who did for him, as both his big house in Brussels and his country estate had been taken over by the Germans; and, as he told Gregory, he found it less depressing to live almost as a hermit in this little week-end seaside villa than in lodgings in the capital.

It was dusk by the time they reached the villa, and Frédéric, the Comte's man, had already done the black-out, about which the Germans were extremely strict in the coastal area.

Going straight upstairs, they got the collapsible canoe out of the box-room, but as Gregory saw it his heart sank a little. It really was a most flimsy affair and had already seen rough usage. One of the struts was broken, and in places the canvas was coming away at the seams.

‘I'm sorry,' said the Comte unhappily. ‘I'm afraid it's no good after all. It's a long time since I've seen it, and I had no idea it was so dilapidated.'

‘It certainly won't do as it is,' Gregory agreed, ‘but since the structure is intact we might be able to patch it up.'

Frédéric, who had come up to help them get it out, said quietly: ‘That should not be difficult,
monsieur
. We have all sorts of odd bits and pieces down in the garage which could be used for the purpose; but it will take a little time.'

It was clear that there was no prospect whatever of Gregory's making his attempt that night, so they went downstairs, and while de Werbomont told Gregory about a book that he was writing on the cultivation of vegetables, to occupy his lonely life, Frédéric cooked them a simple, but excellent dinner.

At first Gregory feared that by accepting the Comte's hospitality he might bring him into danger, but de Werbomont said that Ostend was too big a town for the Germans to keep any exact tally upon the people who were living there. They paid domiciliary visits to every house and flat from time to time, but only about once a month; and as they had been over the villa only three days before it was most unlikely that it would be searched again for another week at least.

All through dinner they had had to keep their overcoats on,
as on the edge of the North Sea there it was very cold, and the Germans had cut off all heating facilities except a low allowance of gas for cooking. De Werbomont told Gregory, too, that unfortunately he could not offer him a bath. He then went on to speak of the intense hatred which the Belgians felt for their conquerors and of how they all prayed for a British victory.

Gregory nodded sympathetically. ‘Of course, we realise in England that King Leopold did not represent the feelings of the Belgian people when he surrendered, although everybody felt pretty mad about the way that he had exposed the flank of our army to the enemy.'

The Belgian's face suddenly went pale, and Gregory realised that for once he had been unusually tactless, because if he had paused to think he should have guessed that de Werbomont was probably an ardent Royalist.

‘How can you possibly believe such a baseless slander?' the Comte said swiftly, his grey eyes flashing. ‘The Belgian Army fought to the absolute limit of its endurance, and the King played his part most nobly.'

‘Perhaps we'd better not discuss it,' said Gregory, in an effort to get off the painful subject; although he had his own ideas, having actually been present at the surrender.

‘But if you hold such a view we
must
discuss it,' de Werbomont insisted. ‘You were only in at the last act of the tragedy, whereas I saw it all, and know the facts. Our poor King was made a scapegoat by those treacherous French. At the time it was quite understandable that English people should have believed that scurrilous broadcast by Monsieur Reynaud. But you have seen how the French have behaved since, and surely that must have opened your eyes? Both the King and Lord Gort were under the command of General Gamelin, and it was he who, after the break-through at Sedan, ordered them to retire from the strong line which they should have held to open country where they were virtually defenceless. King Leopold protested but he was overruled, and, in consequence, the Belgian Army was almost annihilated.'

‘There I entirely agree,' replied Gregory. ‘All our people who were in Flanders say that the Belgian Army fought with the greatest gallantry under the most difficult conditions, but
that hardly explains why the King should have surrendered without one word of warning to Lord Gort.'

‘But, my friend, you do not know the facts. For four days before the surrender the King had kept Lord Gort informed that the Belgian Army was in ever-increasing difficulties and could not hold out much longer. He gave the same information to the French, and many hours before the actual surrender took place he sent messages to all parties of his intentions. I saw them despatched, so I know. The French Government received warning. We have the testimony of our General who was liaison officer with them for that. Your Government in London also received warning, but unfortunately communications were so dislocated that the warning sent to Lord Gort never reached him, and London could not get in touch with him either. The only people, therefore, who could have warned him, but did not, were the French High Command; and that was no fault of the King's.'

‘I see,' Gregory murmured. ‘In that case he has been terribly misjudged in England. Mr. Churchill asked at first that judgment should be suspended, but even he, a week later, announced in the House of Commons that we might form our own conclusions on the evidence available.'

‘Yes, the damage was done then, I admit, and, of course, the Germans made good use of it for their propaganda. All Belgium was horrified to hear how your press and politicians had stigmatised our dear King as a rat and a traitor.'

‘You must admit that the evidence was pretty damning,' Gregory said mildly, ‘because the other monarchs whose countries had been overrun—such as the King of Norway and the Queen of Holland—took refuge in England when their armies could fight no longer, in order that they might establish Governments in London and rally the whole resources of their peoples, outside Europe, to continue the struggle against the Nazis; but King Leopold, who could perfectly well have taken an aeroplane or a destroyer to England, voluntarily gave himself up as a prisoner and most valuable hostage to the enemy.'

‘But you do not understand,' de Werbomont banged the table with his fists. ‘Our monarch is different from others in that, under the Belgian Constitution, on the outbreak of
hostilities in Europe he automatically becomes the Chief of the Belgian Armed Forces. In order to get the last ounce of fight out of them he even issued a proclamation some days before the collapse, definitely stating that they must resist to the last man, and, whatever their fate, he would remain with them.'

‘That certainly makes a difference,' Gregory admitted; ‘but, Constitution or no Constitution, it seems to me that any monarch owes a higher duty to his people as a whole than to any portion of them. Therefore, when the Army could fight no more he was quite justified in ordering their surrender, but he, as the head of the State, should have left the country to form a rallying-point for all his people outside it to continue the struggle against the enemy with the greatest possible intensity.'

‘But you are wrong—wrong—wrong! Outside Europe Belgium's resources are not very considerable, and his Ministers who sought to persuade the King to come with them are doing all that can be done in that direction in his stead. On the other hand, Belgium itself is a great industrial country, and by remaining here the King can continue to fight to far better effect.'

‘I'm afraid I don't see that, in view of the fact that he no longer has any power and is a prisoner.'

‘It is just because he
is
a prisoner that he still wields such enormous power over his people. He has absolutely and categorically refused all collaboration with the Germans, and that example by the King sets a standard for the whole country. We have many rich manufacturers here, and if they had no leadership, certain of them might weaken and allow themselves to be bribed and browbeaten into assisting the German war effort. As it is, every Belgian man and woman knows that they will be incurring the gravest displeasure of the King if they lift one finger to help the enemy. They are prisoners. He is a prisoner, too, but he is still our King, and no person of any standing in the country will go over to the enemy so long as King Leopold remains adamant.'

‘I see,' said Gregory slowly. ‘In that case all of us in England have terribly misjudged him. It's only to be hoped that time and the truth will clear him of these unfortunate imputations.'

The Belgian smiled and leant forward earnestly. ‘His name will go down in history as stainless as that of his great father. Very fortunately, all the documents, with complete proof of his integrity, are already safe in London, and the restoration of his name to honour is a sacred cause with the whole Belgian people.'

Owing to the cold, they did not sit talking for very long, but de Werbomont showed Gregory to a comfortable bedroom, where under plenty of coverings he spent the best night that he had had for some time.

Next morning they got the collapsible canoe down to the garage, which was empty, as the Comte's car had long since been commandeered; but there was a small working-bench at one end of the garage and a miscellaneous assortment of paints and gear.

The Comte proved quite useless at such work, but Frédéric was very helpful, and Gregory's natural ingenuity enabled him to devise means for not only making the necessary repairs but strengthening the canoe considerably. Having cut some pieces of wood to the required length they inserted them as extra struts, then used an old sunblind for patching the canvas where it had rotted, and carefully covered the edges of the patches with rubber solution. For the dual purpose of making it both more watertight and less conspicuous they painted it all over with a mixture blended to a dull green and broke up its outline by two broad strokes of purple which cut across its covered-in bow and stern.

It was evening again by the time they had finished, and although Gregory had hoped to set out that night Frédéric pointed out to him that he would be much wiser to give the paint twenty-four hours to dry; so he slept again under the hospitable de Werbomont's roof.

On the 13th they spent their time devising everything they could think of which might add to Gregory's chances of a successful voyage. In order to buoy up the boat, if it became waterlogged, Frédéric collected all the empty bottles that he could find, and having corked them, firmly wedged them as tightly as he could into the pointed bow and stern. They also sewed a number of cork table-mats into an old sheet so that when Gregory was within a reasonable distance of the English
coast he could throw the sheet out and trail it in the water, where, as a big patch of whiteness, it might catch the eye of a British airman and result in help being sent out.

Like many wealthy Belgians, de Werbomont had laid in a good stock of tinned food at the time of the crisis, but he now willingly parted with some of his hidden reserve to provision the canoe. Bottles of water, a bottle of brandy, a torch, cigarettes and matches were also put aboard, an old carriage lamp was rigged up on the stern, and Frédéric succeeded in buying from one of the local fishermen a sou'-wester and an old suit of oilskins.

After dinner that night they waited anxiously until their neighbours had gone to bed, although this precaution was scarcely necessary, since the Belgians, as a whole, were much more pro-British than the French, and very few of them indeed were playing the part of Quislings.

Owing to the lack of proper heating, the population was going to bed early in these days, and even the German garrison, apart from the sentries on night duty, finding little amusement in the hostile town, preferred their barrack-rooms and messes to going out at night; so at half-past ten de Werbomont declared that he thought the coast was now about as clear as it would be at any time during the night.

Frédéric went out as a scout and, after having had a good look round the beach, came back to report that all was well, except for the danger that they might run into one of the German patrols which moved along it at irregular intervals; but that was a risk which had to be taken whatever time they set out.

De Werbomont then led the way down to the beach, while Gregory and Frédéric followed, carrying the now weighty canoe.

For the season of the year the sea was moderately calm, but even so quite biggish breakers were frothing on the shore, and it looked as though the little craft might easily be swamped before they could get it launched.

After a quick debate Gregory got into its cockpit just on the tide line; then, when he had thanked the other two and they had wished him luck, as a big wave came creaming in they ran him out through it till they were nearly waist-deep
in the water. With a few swift strokes of his double paddle he sent the canoe leaping towards the next big breaker, just before it broke. For a second the boat rose almost perpendicular in the air, then it tilted forward, rushing down the farther slope, and he was off.

The first hundred yards proved a heavy strain. He had to keep the canoe head on to the incoming waves, otherwise, had one caught it sideways, it would have overturned, then been rolled back and dashed to pieces on the shore. But after a breathless fight he reached deeper water, and although the waves were just as big the strain of fighting them became considerably less.