Daffodils were blooming in Katrin’s kitchen garden and soft breezes ruffled the clothes drying on the line. The beginning of another week. Adam looked up from his workbench to see the priest looking in, leaning on the sill. Something in his eye caught his attention. The priest had followed Adam’s life from his first visit to the village, and both written and received many letters on his behalf. He had one now, from Jean Paul. With a whimsical smile, as if wondering what God was up to, he read the letter, where after sharing news of his family, Jean Paul wished to know when his godson and the grandmother were coming to Calais. This shocked Adam. They left in January; it was now March! What could have happened? The priest wondered what he expected, sending an old woman and a boy off to Calais, pushing a wheelbarrow with their goods, in the dead of winter, no less. The facts emerged. They had not stayed at the inn but set off that very afternoon. Everyone in the village knew it. They assumed it was Adam’s wish and stayed quiet lest they seem too critical. Adam in rising agitation explained that was not his plan and now what must he do? The priest suggested that he could search for them. Adam agreed and immediately handed over the shop to Armel and packed a sack with supplies. Katrin tried to stop him but guilt and love compelled him to go. She then arranged that Davy go with him and that they bear arms for protection from robbers. After the midday meal the pair set off with the priest’s blessing (he had joined them for dinner) and Katrin’s uncharacteristically tearful good-bye.
Adam and Davy went to the innkeeper and learned what direction the woman and boy had taken that wintry afternoon. Adam marveled at Madame Niel’s determination to push the wheelbarrow all the way to Calais! They set off, frequently stopping to inquire of other travelers and at any habitations. They learned from a roadside innkeeper that the pair had stopped in for dinner that afternoon. Continuing onward, they encountered a peasant who had aided them. His name was Severin Darche and he willingly told how while returning to his home he had found the old woman and the boy struggling along the way. It was snowing and the barrow was stuck. Darche took charge and brought them to his hovel where they stayed the night. His son, Noel, enjoyed having the boy for company. Darche explained, careful to make it clear that he had not taken advantage of them, that he had traded for the barrow with two sacks and helped them repack their possessions. The old woman had even given his wife a gift, an embroidered handkerchief. It was now her chief treasure. Darche hoped that Monsieur understood that he had treated them fairly and they would not reclaim the barrow or the gift. Davy was suspicious and drawing his dagger accused them of doing away with his relations. Darche stepped back and spread his arms helplessly. Adam restrained Davy and then assured the peasant that he did not suspect him. He thanked him for being hospitable and honest to their relations. They continued their search on the road to Calais, putting up for the night at an inn in Audruicq. Over beer, Davy continued to voice his suspicions of the peasant but Adam pointed out that if he was guilty then all he had to do was tell them that he not seen the couple and leave it at that.
They continued their search the next day, slowly traveling the road to Calais. There were no new sightings; nobody recalled seeing an old woman and a young boy on the road to Calais. They stayed at the inn in Les Attaques that night. The innkeeper, happy to share a drink with them, speculated that the pair may have fallen in with robbers that frequented the byways around Nortkerque. A gang of ex-soldiers had established a base there a few years ago and constantly threatened travelers who strayed off the main road. Adam considered this a possibility but pressed onto Calais the following day. The watch guards at the gate could not recall an old woman and a young boy from three months ago but they freely admitted that the garrison rotated the gate guards frequently. His last hope defeated, he admitted to himself that it was most likely that robbers had killed them on the road. He felt both sorrow and a sense of relief, for in truth, he had no idea about a plan had he found them. He sought our Jean Paul and had a melancholy reunion. Jean Paul agreed with him that it was unlikely that they had made it to Calais, otherwise they would have found him easily enough. Jean Paul was now 39 years old, a widower with eight children. He had grown into a corpulent, red-faced but still easy-going figure. He planned to remarry in the coming year and hoped that Adam and his family would come to Calais for the wedding. The brothers parted with mutual affection and Adam, in resigned sorrow, return to Sainte Marie Kerque with Davy.
Around the time of St Jean Baptiste Day, Adam received a letter from Gerald Boussuet, Jean Paul’s brother-in-law and business partner. Jean Paul had died of a sudden fit. However, Boussuet assured Adam that he had assumed control of the business and was taking care of the children. Thenceforth communication between Calais and Sainte Marie Kerque ceased. Adam reflected that Etienne would be eight years old, had he survived. His new life called him forward though. Katrin was pregnant and they were happy enough.
For more on the backstory see note 12 in:
This painting (circa 1633-1664) by Michiel Sweerts (1618-1664), could be the peasant family of Severin Darche and his little son Noel, playing with the hot coals, while his wife sweeps up in the background. We wonder about the little white object on the floor by Noel's leg. A hot clinker?
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