“Look!” Camille hissed. She nudged Lucien and nodded toward the terminal.
Ziegler and Bayer had barged onto the platform. As Bayer spoke to a railroad attendant, Ziegler was more animated, pointing to the train. The attendant motioned to the engineer, as if he wanted the train delayed.
“We’ll never get away,” Lucien whispered, his voice quivering.
Camille watched Ziegler. “They won’t be able to stop the train. Not with all of these troops on board.”
“Can they get on?”
Camille was leery but prepared for the worst. “I doubt they have orders to go to Paris. But that doesn’t mean they won’t.”
The train whistle signaled departure. The engine belched steam.
“They may not make it,” Lucien said. “The train is leaving.”
Another whistle sounded. The train began to inch away, each chug of its
