A Shred of Honour (7 page)

‘If I had, we would have lost the advantage. And since we stand on the crest with the enemy in full retreat, sir, I submit that my appreciation was correct.’

‘Your appreciation,’ Elphinstone spluttered.

‘Having already fought them, sir, I knew their calibre. Thankfully, it was even easier than the previous encounter.’

Elphinstone scowled, unsure if he was being goaded, examining the terrain and the enemy strength as a way of avoiding the look of certainty in Markham’s eye. There wasn’t really much that he could say, given the undoubted success his small force had achieved. The French had slowed down, still fleeing, the only thing holding up the rout the narrow entrance to the gorge.

Elphinstone pointed at them. ‘How long is that gorge ahead?’

‘I don’t know, sir,’ Markham replied. ‘We had neither the time, nor the strength, to find out.’

‘Pity,’ he replied, though he made it sound the precise opposite. ‘Holding that, we’d have avoided a fight altogether.’

Markham was seething, judging this to be just the usual ‘Johnny come lately’ attitude of a man determined to pick holes. He could have, and no doubt would have, led the charge up the hill himself if he’d arrived sooner.

‘And if we’d failed, sir, we would have found ourselves retreating across the only piece of true open ground for miles. In which case I doubt I’d be here talking to you now.’

Elphinstone flushed furiously, and glared at his fellow captain. ‘You allow your officers too much freedom, de Lisle.’

‘With respect, sir, I do not,’ de Lisle snapped back. Then, seeming to have realised his mistake, his voice
softened
immediately. Clearly, if the Scotsman chose to rebuke him, it was because he had the power to do so. ‘I will not be called to answer for those the Admiralty foists on me. I am accustomed to choosing my own officers, and I can assure you, had I been indulged, I would not have the likes of Lieutenant Markham aboard my ship.’

Elphinstone nodded, seemingly mollified, as though the person referred to was elsewhere, and that little speech explained everything. He sat silently for almost a minute, before speaking again. ‘Dig in here for the night, Markham. I’ll take my marines back with me to continue work on the perimeter defences around Toulon. I’ll send another officer, and orders, at first light.’

They should have relieved him and his men, leaving some of the others they’d brought up in their place. But insolence had its price and Markham was paying for his. He considered arguing, but put it aside, knowing that he
couldn’t plead. But he did know that for the next twelve hours he had precious little strength if anything developed.

‘If you leave the guns, sir …’

He got no further, Elphinstone shaking his head as though the proposition were stupid. ‘Of course I can’t leave the guns, man. We need to get them in position to defend the town.’

‘Then I must warn you, sir, that I may be forced to abandon Ollioules.’

‘We will be doing that anyway, Markham. What you’ve seen today is only the advance guard of the Armée de la Bouche de Rhône. The rest are to the rear, some fifteen thousand men, who left Marseilles this very morning.’

‘Spotted Dick’ produced one of his humourless smiles. ‘Fifteen thousand men. I don’t think even your brand of insubordination will hold that number.’

‘There’s another French army,’ Elphinstone added, ‘from Savoy, approaching from the east, which makes any position outside the Toulon perimeter untenable. But the longer we keep this lot away from the port the better.’

‘I’m sorry, laddie,’ he continued, though he signally failed to sound so. ‘All we’ve bought here is a wee bit of time.’

‘Come, sir,’ said de Lisle, giving Elphinstone an
admiring
look that lit up even his bland face. ‘Let’s not be too self-deprecating. You must admit that you have fought a brilliantly successful action, given your limited means. The enemy, a superior force, have been compelled to withdraw.’

This piece of outrageous flattery was taken without a blush. Markham, already displeased, was made doubly so. Again, their own captain didn’t see fit to praise the men from the
Hebe
. Clearly Elphinstone was well above him on the Captains’ list. More than that he had
influence
, so much that de Lisle was prepared to absorb a rebuke, even to grovel in order to gain some regard.

The object of this sycophantic praise called out his commands as he swung round on his horse. His marines fell in smartly behind him and marched off in his wake. De Lisle followed, leaving Markham’s small party of just over thirty men in possession of the hill.

The sun dropped lower, with the sky, indigo above their heads, turning gold behind the limestone crags. ‘
Entrenching
tools. Schutte, get a party together and carry the French wounded and dead down to the bottom of the hill. They’ll want a truce, and we can’t let them see how few in number we are. Halsey, tally off four men. I want a piquet to the rear just in case they try and slip some men round behind us. Rannoch, get some fires ready, enough to make it look as though we’re still here in strength.’

‘I don’t quite get the lingo, sir,’ said Yelland, who, with his piping voice, sounded even more youthful than he looked. ‘But I think he’s after some help to fix his wheel.’

‘Why, in the name of God, didn’t they go with Elphinstone?’

‘What do you want me to do about it?’

Markham, who’d lain back to rest by the dry stone wall, pulled himself to his feet, slapping at his uniform and sending forth a cloud of brown dust into the warm evening air. ‘I’m not even sure it can be repaired,’ he said.

‘It’s not as bad as all that,’ Yelland replied eagerly. ‘I had a look. The ball took the wheel off clean enough and only one of the spokes is stove in.’ His eyes dropped as Markham stared at him, the look full of curiosity.
Yelland
, when he spoke again, adopted a defensive tone. ‘He offered money for to have it done.’

Markham laughed, which surprised the youngster, who’d prepared himself for at least a verbal drubbing, if not two dozen lashes. ‘Well you deserve something for all that running you did today. Make sure you charge a decent fee.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

They began to walk down the hill, watched by the men Markham had set to stand the first sentry duty. The last of the light was fading, with a promise of a clear starlit night ahead, one so bright that it should preclude a
surreptitious
approach by the enemy. They, having retrieved their dead and wounded, had moved forward again, and were now encamped across the Marseilles road.

‘Tell me, Yelland, how did you come to be in the regiment?’

‘No choice, your honour,’ he replied, without
embarrassment
. ‘It was that or transportation.’

‘For what?’

‘A bit o’ fish poaching. Went back to the same spot too often. Thought the bailiff was as stupid as me.’

Markham laughed, with just a trace of bitterness. ‘I doubt you’re alone amongst the Hebes.’

‘I ain’t, sir,’ he replied, adding a sneer. ‘And don’t you let those Lobsters fool you, neither. They’re as destined for the fires of hell as the rest of us.’

They entered the inn, to find the family gathered round a table, eating from the supplies they’d brought in the coach. Judging by the feast before them they’d been determined not to starve. There were hams and cold chicken, beef and pork, fresh looking bread and ample wine. Celeste, now dressed in a cleaner, less tattered frock, stood in the background, her eyes ranging hungrily over the laden table.

‘Lieutenant, you will join us, I hope,’ said the father, beaming, his hand sweeping over the food.

The women at the table nodded in agreement, while the boy stared straight ahead. Then the Frenchman saw Yelland, who’d stopped in the doorway, and he gave the soldier an inquiring stare. Markham, for the first time, had a chance to look at him properly; a squat, thick-set individual, his high colour was exaggerated by the candlelight, and quite probably by the amount of wine he’d consumed. He had lost his wig when he came off the
box, and the close-cropped hair made his cheeks look much fatter.

‘I have not introduced myself, monsieur.’ He bowed his head as he continued, ‘Guillaume Rossignol. Will you oblige me by a loan of some of your soldiers to repair my wheel?’

‘Loan, sir? I understood you’d offered to pay hard money.’

The split-second pause was enough to establish that he’d hoped to avoid the charge. Markham lifted his eyes to Celeste, standing in the shadows, her hands clasped together in front of her, as though she were cold. She’d brushed her hair, which made her look even younger than she had earlier.

‘I certainly hope you’ve paid for the use of this table.’

Rossignol’s eyes swung round, to look in the same direction. His voice, when it boomed out a reply, had an air of falsehood. ‘Of course, before we depart.’

‘I think she would prefer to be paid out in kind,’ said Markham, looking at the food on the table. ‘If you can’t spare the victuals, then she may have that you wish to bestow on me.’

‘Come, sir, there is enough for everyone.’ The two men stared at each other for a moment, Rossignol’s eyes taking on a sad look. ‘I have offended you, Lieutenant, have I not?’

He held up his hand to stop Markham replying, which was unnecessary, since the Irishman had no intention of doing any such thing. ‘Please don’t deny it. I’ve been thoughtless and you have, quite properly, checked me for it. Girls, a plate of food for this unfortunate, with some wine if she wishes it.’

That had Markham raising an eyebrow. Only a few hours before he had referred to Celeste as a wretch. His eyes took in the rest of the family as the girls complied, with their father fussing at them to add more to the plate. None shared common features. The elder daughter was
plump, quite heavily powdered with dark brown eyes. But the other, whom he’d caught the briefest glimpse of earlier, had her father’s blue eyes, his fair skin, and was fortunately free from any trace of his bulk. Indeed, as she half stood to fill the plate, he could see that she was slim and graceful. Earlier, she’d worn a cloak. Now, her
low-cut
dress revealed a becoming décolletage. Her sister, with a greater endowment of flesh and a similarly low-cut garment, looked overblown. Both girls had smooth hands, and showed an elegance in their movements that denoted a decent upbringing.

Rossignol, satisfied that their work was progressing properly, turned back to Markham, and observed the direction of his gaze. ‘And here I find I have failed to introduce my daughters, Eveline and Pascalle.’

Since both curtsied in unison, he had no idea who answered to which name. He was just about to blurt out the question when Yelland, who had not understood a single word of the exchange, coughed loudly to remind them of his presence.

‘Tell Sergeant Rannoch to light the fires,’ he snapped. ‘You can then start work on the coach. I’ll see you get your fee.’

‘It’ll take a few of the lads, sir.’

‘I’m sure there’ll be enough payment to go round.’

As Yelland left Markham swung his eyes back to the table. Rossignol was beaming at him, which might mean that he’d noted the confusion. So he looked at the boy sitting at the end of the table: pale-skinned, expressionless of face, he had large luminous brown eyes which were utterly uninterested in his surroundings.

‘Jean-Baptiste, a friend of the family, Lieutenant,’ said Rossignol. ‘Whom we have taken under our wing for protection. I’m afraid that recent events in his life have affected him. He is, you will observe, rather witless.’

‘Deaf?’

‘No. Nor dumb. Just cocooned in a world of his own.’

The pretty daughter had taken the heaped plate, plus a cup of wine, to Celeste, who looked like a waif by
comparison
. As she turned to come back she raised her eyes and smiled at Markham. At the same moment, Rossignol solved the problem of her identity.

‘Thank you, Eveline. You have helped to save your father from being a boor. Now I must apologise to our guest, and hope that he will allow that panic can affect a man’s natural behaviour. Come Lieutenant, join us. You must, after such resounding victories, be famished.’

Markham might have said something modest if the words had produced a look of admiration from Eveline. He sat down opposite, accepting a cup of wine without taking his eyes off her. That earned him another smile, repeated several times as her father explained to his
distracted
guest how they had come to be here.

‘The murder of the King was a tragedy, and I cannot tell you how much I fear for the poor Queen. Separated from her children these last months and kept alone in a cell, she is constantly threatened with a similar fate. If an entire nation could be consigned to hell, that punishment would fit such a crime. Those madmen in Paris wished to kill any person of quality, especially those who owned land.’

‘The newspapers in England have reported every gory detail, monsieur. And since you are fleeing, in such a handsome coach and with such elegant creatures, you are, I presume, at risk.’

The words were addressed to both women, but he made sure that Eveline knew they were intended for her.

‘Certainly, monsieur, though not because of my
personal
worth. I am a maître, a lawyer, who had the good fortune to represent some of the most elevated families in France. I had hoped that my daughters would give a lustre to our family that I could not gain myself.’

‘They are certainly lustrous enough, monsieur,’
Markham replied, which produced a bowed head from Eveline and a simpering response from her sister.

‘You are most gallant,’ said their father.

The door crashed open as Halsey burst in. His face, instead of being the smooth visage Markham
remembered
, was lined with worry. ‘There’s men moving down through the hills behind us!’

Markham’s wine went flying as he jumped to his feet. ‘Have the French outflanked us?’

‘I don’t think it’s soldiers. They ain’t fired off a single shot. They don’t want to be spotted, I reckon. And they’re dressed wrong. It might be them deserters. All I know is there’s a rate of ’em. I left Leech and the others to keep an eye out.’