Father Arnaud hung his surplice on the teak peg and turned to face the bright-eyed visitor. “You were at Mass?”
“Yes. I’ve been coming every Sunday for the past four weeks.”
“Yet you did not take Communion.”
“No. I’m not Catholic.”
“Then why do you come to Mass?” The ancient priest gave his most winning smile. “All are welcome, of course. I am merely curious.”
“I came because I had to be sure. You see, we’ve spent a long time searching you out.” The young man gestured toward the limitless sea they both could view through the open chapel door. “To the ends of the earth, it seems.”
Father Arnaud’s smile stiffened. “Me? Whatever for?”
The man pulled a photograph from his breast pocket. It showed a young man in the uniform of an SS Ünteroffizier, young and fresh and wearing an expression of placid confidence.
And clearly, indisputably, Father Arnaud.