The Tenth Man
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
During World War II a group of men is held prisoner by the Germans, who determine that three of them must die. This is the story of how one of those men trades his wealth for his life—and lives to pay for his act in utterly unexpected ways.
overwhelmingly in his favor at fifteen to one: he was daunted by the courage of common men. He wanted the whole thing to be over as quickly as possible: like a game of cards which has gone on too long, he only wanted someone to make a move and break up the table. Lenotre, sitting down against the wall next to Voisin, turned the slip over: on the back was a scrap of writing. "Your wife?" Voisin said. "My daughter," Lenotre said. "Excuse me." He went over to his roll of bedding and drew out a
prick of jealousy. "You'd better be careful of him." "You say that just as if you knew him. You don't know him, do you? He seemed to think he'd seen you..." He interrupted her: "I know his type, that's all." 12 THAT NIGHT, AFTER THEY HAD RETURNED FROM BRINAC, Therese Mangeot behaved in an unaccustomed way--she insisted that they should eat in future in the dining room instead of in the kitchen where previously they had taken all their meals, hurriedly as if they were prepared at any moment for
that could be turned sharply. But as he sat on a wheelbarrow and considered the situation further his imagination kindled with a more daring project. In his mind a curtain rose on a romantic situation that only an actor of the finest genius could make plausible, though it was perhaps not quite original: Shakespeare had thought of it first. Watching through a knothole in the wall he Saw Charlot cross the fields toward St. Jean: it was too early for market and he was hurrying. Patiently Carosse
"Yes, of course. In the night." "But Charlot told me it was in the morning--the next morning." "Oh, what a liar that man has always been," Carosse moaned. "But why should he lie?" "He wanted to make it worse for me," Carosse improvised. He felt a wave of pride in his own astuteness that carried him over the threshold into the house: Therese Mangeot had stepped back to let him in. "It's worse, isn't it, to let a man die after a whole night to think about it? I wasn't villain enough for him." "He
stood like a black exclamation mark against the gray early-morning sky: he had an appearance of enormous arrogance and certainty. "I wouldn't have said that. She has seen a good deal of life in Paris. She is not a country girl," he added maliciously. "You don't see more of life," the priest said, "in one place than another. One man in a desert is enough life if you are trained to observe or have a bent for observation. She has no bent." "She seemed to me to have a great deal of gamin wisdom."