“Well, I’m in your hands,” the young Englishman replied. “But I’d certainly feel foul if I got you into trouble. Of course, I’m willing to take any kind of chance. The sooner I get back to my squadron the better. I think you can guess what’s up in England. It’s my bet the invasion is coming any day now.” “It can’t come too soon,” Pierre said eagerly. Soon after that, work on the farm began as on an ordinary day. In spite of the Gagnons’ desire to appear untroubled, however, they paused often to listen and look around them. Rumors of the Nazi search party reached them from all sides. The village women trundled from house to house bemoaning the loss of their copper cooking pots. At two o’clock that afternoon the priest’s housekeeper brought a package. A message said that all arrangements had been completed. At exactly four o’clock the ambulance would arrive before Pierre’s house. Mme. Gagnon was to be ready to leave instantly. The party must arrive at a point near the hospital at _exactly_ five o’clock. Marie packed clothes for her mother and laid out her own best dress. Even though she would be returning that same evening, she also prepared a small lunch basket. The hospital was only about eighteen miles away, but food might be difficult to find and expensive to buy. André was given the job of coaching Ronald Pitt. He climbed the attic stairs filled with excitement but also full of laughter. For the disguise that Father Duprey had chosen for the flyer was a nun’s outfit of clothing. When the young Englishman had put on the long, full, black robe, André stood back and studied him, his eyes dancing. And from under the starched headdress that framed his narrow face the flyer’s blue eyes danced just as gaily. André said, “You make a pretty nun.” And grinning, he finished, “I did not think Spitfire pilots were so _chic_.” Then recalling the serious instructions his father had given him for Ronald, he repeated them. “Be ready to come downstairs just before four o’clock. Get into the ambulance quickly, right after they put Maman’s stretcher in. The family will try to surround you. The driver is a Maquis and he’s used to this kind of business. “Now,” André finished, “my father says to be sure you don’t leave anything behind you for the Germans to find. And Marie will come in a few minutes to put the cot and all this stuff away.” “Splendid.” Ronald looked down at the boy. “I’d hate to see _my_ young brother exposed to all this danger you’re so cheerful about. Well, now I must practice a bit.” He took a sedate turn between the cot and the window, grinning at the French boy. And he practiced sitting down demurely. It had been raining gustily all day but stopped about three, and the wind dropped. For some time the village had been quiet--the Nazi squad busy among outlying farms. As four o’clock neared, Mme. Gagnon was upstairs, dressed and wrapped in a shawl, ready to be hurried onto the stretcher.