And There Was Light by Jacques Lusseyran

Author:Jacques Lusseyran
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: New World Library

[ 10 ]

THE PLUNGE INTO COURAGE

WEISSBERG WAS THE NAME of the thin little man with the short beard and white hair. He was always polite and always welcoming. As an old schoolmate of Jean’s father, he had a deep affection for Jean, and asked nothing more of him than a brief visit once a month. Being a bachelor he said he loved Jean like the son he had never had himself. His life had been devoted to patient research in biology. He had made some real discoveries in pharmacology, but was too modest and too absentminded to make capital of his own inventions. He had always been poor.

When Jean came back from those visits to Weissberg, he blossomed. The old man had made him see and love so many things that were new to him.

One evening at the beginning of April Jean had gone off toward the Avenue de Clichy for his regular visit. But the concierge stopped him as he was passing and told him that the old gentleman who lived on the fifth floor was no longer there. Two days before, at five o’clock in the morning, the German police had come for him. “Three of them were looking for him,” said the concierge, “all of them very polite, especially the tallest one, who spoke French.” But as they were taking the poor man away, the tall one, obviously an officer, had turned around and said to her: “Don’t be upset. It is only a Jew.”

Some days after this, Radio Paris, which was German, announced that French terrorists had cut the telephone lines used by the German army near the coast of Brittany. As a result ten French hostages had just been shot.

Then one day, as I was coming out of the lycée at noon, a young man I didn’t know took hold of my arm as I was going by. He drew me into the corner of the entrance hall and said to me in an anxious voice, “The Gestapo arrested Gérard this morning. I think he is at the Santé.” The Santé! It was the first time the name of that Paris prison had sounded so close and so personal in my ears. The young man went on: “I am Gérard’s oldest brother. I am in danger myself. Our father joined the Free French Forces in London last June, as you know. They must be holding Gérard as a hostage. I thought I should tell you, since you were his best friend.”

Three days later, I fell ill. I am not sure whether it was because of Weissberg, Gérard and the hostages. The illness itself was common enough. A bad case of measles declared itself in a few hours and broke out in a rash after four or five days. When it left me, it set a torrent of energy free. I hesitate to say so, but that is really what I think. There is no doubt that I believed it at the time. In the first

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