Drums of War (24 page)

Daniel
had left them beside the coach while he walked back to the edge of the woods.
Through his telescope, he'd been watching the main road for signs of pursuit.
Since the escape would definitely have been discovered by now, he'd expected
search parties to be sent out but none appeared on the main road. Daniel
concluded that they must have reason to believe the fugitives were still within
the city walls. It was a boon to them. Their journey through France would be
much easier without a posse on their heels but he was very conscious that other
dangers would lie ahead. After a few more minutes, Daniel went back to rejoin
the others. Janssen immediately came across to him and shook his hand warmly.

'Amalia
has been telling me what you did for them, Captain Rawson,' he said,
effusively. 'We're forever in your debt.'

'I
did what was expected of me, that's all,' said Daniel.

'You're
far too modest. What you achieved beggars belief. The Duke of Marlborough will
hear of this.'

'My
task is to make sure that you reach him safely.'

'According
to my daughter, you can do
anything.'

'That's
very flattering but quite untrue.'

'Amalia
rarely exaggerates, Captain Rawson.'

'I
think it wiser if you don't call me that,' said Daniel. 'We're still on French
soil. Until we leave it, my name is Marcel Daron.'

'I'll
remember that, Monsieur Daron.'

'And,
in the event of our being stopped, the rest of you must answer to the names on
your forged papers.'

'Does
that mean I'm to travel as Mademoiselle Lantin?' asked Janssen with a wry
smile. 'Posing as a woman was a new experience for me. I'm glad I didn't have
to speak as Emma Lantin.'

'That
will be Beatrix's name from now on. We must be on our way,' he continued,
raising his voice to address the others. 'We need to put distance between
ourselves and Paris.'

Amalia
and Beatrix returned to the coach and climbed in. Dopff clambered up on to the
driving seat. Before he got into the vehicle, Janssen had a question for
Daniel.

'How
good is your memory?' he asked.

'It's
fairly reliable, I think.'

'I'm
sure it's better than mine. We need to have a long talk. The last time I was at
Versailles, I overheard discussions about the war that would be of great
interest to the Duke. I want to tell someone about them before I forget.'

'You
could always put them on paper,' said Daniel.

'I
was about to do that when I was arrested so I was unable to pass on the
information to a British agent in the city. I think I'd prefer to confide in
you,' said Janssen. 'As a soldier, you'll be able to decide if the intelligence
has any real value.'

'I
will.'

'Was
it explained to you how I worked in Paris?'

'Yes,'
said Daniel. 'Whenever you had anything that might be useful, you passed it on
to a man named Pierre Lefeaux.'

'He
was such a delightful fellow,' recalled Janssen. 'He and his wife became good
friends of mine. Pierre was so courageous. He made what I was doing feel very
ordinary by comparison. He was the one who took the risks. I don't suppose that
you had any dealings with them, by any chance?'

It
was not the time to tell him the truth about the fate of his two friends.
Janssen was still elated by his escape. Daniel felt that it would be wrong to
deprive him of his joy or to upset the others by describing what he'd seen when
he visited the Lefeaux household.

'No,'
he said, shaking his head. 'I never had that pleasure.'

Ronan
Flynn was a dutiful son-in-law. Twice a week, he drove Charlotte and their baby
to the village where her parents had their cottage, making sure that he had a
supply of the day's bread with them. It was only three miles away from Paris so
he could get there and back in an afternoon. When his wife was dressed for the
outing, he helped her up on to the cart then passed up

Louise.
Wrapped in a shawl, the baby was fast asleep and even the joggling of the cart
and the tumult in the streets didn't wake her up. The little family was off on
what they believed would be an enjoyable excursion. As they approached one of
the city gates, however, they encountered a problem. The gates were locked and
armed guards stood in front of them, turning people back. Charlotte was
worried.

'What's
wrong?' she said.

'I'll
go and find out, my darling.'

'Mother
and Father are expecting us, Ronan.'

'We'll
get to them somehow,' he promised.

Handing
her the reins, he hopped down from the cart and walked past a line of others
wanting to leave the capital. There was a coach, two carts and a number of
horsemen. Flynn strode to the head of the queue where a man was arguing
vociferously with one of the guards. It reached the point where the guard
lifted his musket to threaten him. Raising both hands in a gesture of
surrender, the man backed away and swore under his breath. Flynn spoke to the
guard.

'We
have to visit my wife's parents,' he said.

'Nobody
is leaving today,' warned the guard.

'What's
the reason?'

'All
the city gates have been shut. Visitors can come in but we've been ordered to
let nobody out unless they have authority.'

'Well,
we
have authority,' said Flynn. 'We're good citizens and we pay our taxes
regularly. That surely entitles us to come and go as we wish.' He turned to
point down the queue. 'That's my wife, sitting on the cart with our baby in her
arms. Surely, you can let us out?'

'No,
Monsieur.'

'But
we're completely harmless.'

'That
makes no difference. We have our orders.'

'Who
issued these bleeding orders?' asked Flynn, temper rising.

'It
was the Lieutenant-General of Police.'

'Did
he have the grace to say why?'

'He
did, Monsieur,' replied the guard. 'An important prisoner has escaped from the
Bastille. We must make sure that he doesn't leave Paris.'

'He
must be very important if you're taking measures like this. Who is the fellow?'

'That's
none of your business.'

'It
is
my business if it spoils a family visit. Who did they have locked away in the
Bastille? To cause all this upheaval, he must have been a foreign prince at
least.'

'He
was a Dutchman,' said the guard. "That's all I know. Now please turn
back.'

Seeing
that the guard was adamant, Flynn gave up. It was annoying to him and would be
a grave disappointment to his wife's parents. They'd be very anxious when Flynn
and Charlotte failed to turn up and their free bread would be sorely missed.
The Irishman had almost reached the cart when he realised what the guard had
just told him. A Dutchman had somehow escaped from the Bastille and was on the
run. Into Flynn's mind came the image of three guests who'd stayed at his house
recently. He thought about a boat that had been hired and a coach that was
sought. He remembered a number of isolated clues that now fitted neatly
together to make a perfect whole. Forgetting his anger at the disruption to
their visit, he opened his mouth wide and roared with laughter.

'Dan
Rawson!' he said to himself. 'You're a clever old devil!'

The
coach kept up steady speed. Daniel was careful to pace the horse, stopping
occasionally to let it rest or drink from a stream. When they set off after one
such break, Amalia volunteered to sit beside Daniel, allowing Dopff to travel
inside the coach for once. Warmed by the afternoon sun, she surveyed the
rolling countryside ahead.

'How
far will we go today?' she wondered.

'As
far as we can before the light disappears,' he said. 'We'll look for a wayside
inn. We'll have been driving for several hours by then. The horse will deserve
a good feed and a long rest.'

'What
happened to your own horse?'

'I
had to trade it in to buy this coach.'

'We
must pay something of the cost,' said Amalia, seriously. 'It's wrong that you
should pay for everything. I have plenty of money as well as my jewellery.'

'Hold
on to it in case we need it.'

'Are
you sure?'

'I
still have some reserves left.'

'Very
well, Daniel.'

'And
remember that when we're with strangers, I'm not Daniel anymore. I'm Marcel
Daron. The others have been warned.'

'I
won't forget.'

Sitting
close together, neither of them noticed the discomfort of the bare wooden seat
or the loud creaking of the vehicle as it swayed to and fro. They were wholly
preoccupied with each other. When one wheel hit a deep pothole, however, they
were very much aware of it. The coach lurched violently sideways for a second
before righting itself with a bump. Amalia was thrown against Daniel and he put
an arm around her, pulling her close in a moment of intimacy that caused a
frisson in both of them. It was minutes before he released her.

'When
we find a suitable inn,' said Daniel at length, 'I suggest that you and Beatrix
share one room while your father occupies another with Kees.'

'What
about you?'

'I'll
sleep in the coach.'

'You
can't sleep in this,' she protested.

'One
of us has to,' he explained, 'and I'm the only person with any weapons. I want
everything of real value to be hidden in the coach in case we're stopped and
searched. The tapestry will remain here as well. Someone has to stand guard
during the night.'

'But
it's so unfair on you.'

'Then
you can act as a sentry instead,' he teased.

'We
could guard the coach together,' she said, blurting out the suggestion without
considering what it would entail.

'I
don't think your father would approve of that, appealing as the idea is. In any
case, you'll be busy elsewhere, keeping Beatrix under control. If anyone is
likely to give us away, it's your servant. You have to watch her carefully.'

'Beatrix
is much better since we left Paris.'

'She
still needs a close eye kept on her,' he said. 'At the first sign of trouble,
I'm afraid that she may let us all down.'

'Then
I'll do as you say.'

They
rode on in companionable silence for a while, scanning the horizon and feeling
a slight chill as the sun was obscured by clouds. Every so often the wheels
would squelch through a puddle left by the heavy rain and throw moisture into
the air. Though animals grazed in some of the fields, they didn't see anybody
else for miles. Daniel was already planning ahead, thinking about the next
stage of their journey and trying to work out when and where to cross the
French border. Amalia's mind was fixed on something beyond that.

'What
will happen when we reach Holland?' she said.

'I'm
to take you to The Hague.'

'Why?'

'Because
people there wish to hear about your father's stay in France,' said Daniel.
'Nobody else has ever got so close to King Louis. What he can tell us may
affect the progress of the war next year.'

'What
then?'

'You'll
be allowed to return home to Amsterdam and resume your normal life. Once
everyone realises that your father didn't betray his country, he'll be seen as
something of a hero.'

'I
don't think he feels like a hero. He's still very shaken by what happened to
him in the Bastille. It will always haunt him.'

"The
ugly memories will fade in time, I'm sure.'

'What
about you?' she asked. 'If and when you take us back to The Hague, what will
you do afterwards?'

'I'll
return to my regiment to give a full report.'

'And
then?'

'I'll
await the return of our commander-in-chief before I can rejoin his staff. Oh,'
he added, looking deep into her eyes, 'there is something else I intend to do.'

'And
what's that?'

'I'll
find time to visit Amsterdam and call on a very special friend.' She laughed in
delight. 'Can I have an address, please?'

After
a testing march, they set up camp early that evening. The first thing that Hugh
Dobbs did was to go to the nearby stream so that he could dangle his bare feet
in the water. Tom Hillier sat beside him, letting his own feet get washed by
the current.

'We'll
have a decent rest at long last,' said Dobbs. 'We'll be here for a few days at
least.'

'How
do you know that?'

'I
overheard Lieutenant Ainsley say so.'

Hillier
chuckled. 'One of these days, the lieutenant will catch you listening and box
your ears.'

'That's
why I always loiter near him. He's never really strict. If I was caught
eavesdropping by Major Cracknell,' said Dobbs, 'he wouldn't just box my ears,
he'd cut the pair of them off.'