'Yes/ he smiled,
And she went on cooking the dinner.
- , §2
Everything was arranged with that abnormal
composure that will frequently come to us at such
moments. Christophe would bid his father farewell
then meet Jan and walk to the Presbytery, there to say
good-bye to Monsieur le Cure. Marie and Loup, and
Anatole Kahn, and perhaps the apprentice, would
wait at the station. Anfos had better remain at-home
— they would tell him that he must take care of Jouse.
And now Christophe was standing by Jouse's
bedside, and he noticed that his father was wearing his
medals. Two large tears trickled slowly towards his
beard: 'Wipe them away, my son,3 he said thickly,
'my eyes are cowards but my heart is brave and . . .
proud. I cannot quite raise my right hand/ So
Christophe wiped the tears from his face. Then they
kissed: eGod be with you, my very dear son . . .
always. . . always.3
Christophe answered huskily: cMy father, it is
difficult to find words. . . .3
cWe have no need of words any more/ said J6usŁ.
§3
In the kitchen Christophe found Anfos, alone.
He was sitting with his head on his folded arms, but
he sprang up the moment he heard Christophers
footstep: cAnfos, I have come to say good-bye. Anfos
. . , what is it? Will you not speak?' For the madman
was gazing at him very strangely; there was love in
his eyes, and amazement and awe, there was joy, yet
also something like horror. 1 am going, I must.
Anfos, give me your hand . . . this is our farewell.'
Anfos did not answer.
465