He was up and heading for the door; but now she had heard from Nikolai, an extraordinary calm had come over Anne. She felt no fear, no sense of haste. He was nearby, and would take care of her.
‘Listen to me, Basil,’ she said. ‘We won’t be the only people to receive this news. Everyone’s going to be out in the streets, hoping to get away with as many of their belongings as they can save. You know there’s looting already in the city. If you take those horses out there now, you’ll be set on and robbed, and the horses will be stolen. You’ll have no chance.’
‘More chance than tomorrow,’ he retorted from the door.
‘If there is another retreat, once the army starts to come through, people will be so frightened and desperate, they’ll want nothing more than to save their own skins. They won’t have time to think about anything else. They’ll run like chickens to get out of the city before the French arrive. You’ll be able to drive out in perfect safety. You’ll have the protection of the entire army, after all.’
‘You’re mad,’ he said. ‘Quite mad. I know what it is – you want to wait for your lover. You don’t want to leave before he gets here. Well, that’s your business! I’m not waiting around to lose everything, including my life! I’m going now, while there’s a chance. You can come with me, or you can stay, just as you please.’ And he was gone down the stairs, yelling for the servants.
‘Basil, for God’s sake–’ she called after him, pushing herself up out of the chair. She heard his voice from the hallway.
‘Get those horses put to in the carriage we packed today. Right away! We’re leaving!’
Anne ran after him, pattering down the stairs, really worried now. ‘No, Basil, I forbid it! You’ll ruin everything!’
He turned at the courtyard door. ‘Ruin your pretty plans, maybe,’ he said fiercely. ‘That’s none of my concern. I’m getting out.’ He shouted out into the yard, ‘Get on with it, man! Hurry up!’
‘They’re my horses!’ she said desperately, catching at his sleeve. ‘You shan’t take them.’
‘Yours! Who bought them? Who paid for them? Get away from me!’ He slapped her hand away, and went out into the courtyard. Anne followed, instinctively pressing her hands to her belly.
Outside in the courtyard she saw the horses were being led out towards the waiting carriage. She caught up with Basil again.
‘Take one, then! Not both of them! Leave me one, for God’s sake!’
He shook her off impatiently. ‘Don’t be a fool – one horse can’t pull that load!’ Then he seemed to understand what she was saying. ‘What? Do you mean you’re not coming with me?’
She shook her head. ‘Not now. I can’t.’ He stared at her in astonishment and anger. ‘Leave me one horse, for God’s sake!’
They were backing them up to either side of the pole, now. She saw Basil hesitate, considering; but whether he would have relented or not she would never know. There was a flare of torchlight in the street outside the gates, and someone rattled them hard with a stick, and shouted harshly, ‘Police! Open the gates! Come on, now, open up! This is the Governor’s business!’
Anne whirled round, white with foreknowledge. ‘Take the horses back! Hide them! Quickly!’
But already it was too late. As the porter backed away shaking his head, one of the men reached through, grabbing him by the front of his tunic and jerking him violently up against the gate. He cried out as his face hit the bars, and the key on its iron ring fell nervelessly from his hand. Another hand came through and snatched it up. The porter was released and staggered back, slumping against the wall, putting his hands up to his bleeding face; the gates crashed back, and the men came surging through.
The servants shrank back behind Anne in terror, the grooms who had brought out the horses seemed frozen to the spot. She placed herself instinctively between them and the invaders, and the leader of the men halted in front of her, surveying her by the light of his torch, while his companions spread across the yard behind him, looking around them with sharp, nervous glances.
‘All right, madame, there’s nothing to worry about,’ said the man, holding up a document, a folded piece of stiff paper with a red wax seal clearly visible on the outside. ‘No harm will come to you.’ He waved his men forward, and as they thrust past him he said, ‘By the order of His Excellency the Governor, these horses are requisitioned on State business of the utmost urgency. That’s right, Vanya, lead ’em off!’
Basil came alive. ‘Don’t take my horses! You can’t take them, damn you!’
‘Governor’s business, sir. Don’t get in our way, if you please, or I shall be obliged to use force.’
‘You don’t understand – they’re the last! All the rest have been taken already! How can we get away if you take them? The French are coming! You can’t take my last two horses!’
‘Sorry sir,’ the man said briefly, without interest. ‘Orders are orders.’ Basil grabbed at him, and the man sidestepped and pulled a pistol from his belt. ‘Keep your hands to yourself, sir, or I’ll have to shoot. My orders are to take the horses, at any cost.’
Anne stared. The pistol convinced her of what she already suspected. It had been rather a coincidence that they had arrived just as the horses were led out, hadn’t it? Quite suddenly she knew they were not police at all. They were a band of looters, with a cunning and resourceful leader, who had seen the horses from the street and were snapping up the chance.
‘Show me your orders again,’ she said sharply. Behind her there were sounds of scuffling, and the rattle of nervous hooves on the cobbles.
‘Barina!’ One of the servants called out desperately, and swinging round, she saw him struggling with one of the men, who had pulled a soft valise from the coach and was trying to make off with it. As they dragged, each on one handle, it tore open, and a number of precious objects – gold plate and cups and so on – thudded heavily on to the ground.
‘Show me those orders!’ she snapped at the leader.
‘Sorry, madame, no time now,’ he said, his voice rising with urgency as he backed off, keeping the pistol pointing at them. Others were already trotting the horses towards the gate. Basil caught Anne’s eye and she saw the truth dawn on him too.
‘No!’ he screamed, ‘No! Robbers! Looters! No!’
The leader turned and ran. Basil stooped to grab something from the cobbles, and with insane courage, born of desperation, he flung himself after them, his arm raised above his head as if to strike down the man with whatever it was he held in his hand.
‘Basil, no!’ Anne cried out. In the same instant, the man in front of him turned, raising his hand, and a pistol cracked, spitting a tongue of flame in the darkness of the yard. Basil went down, skidding face downwards a few feet along the cobbles before coming to rest. The servants who had been running forward in his wake stopped dead at the sound of the shot; the horses were gone through the gates, and there was only the diminishing sound of hooves and running feet.
Anne had run to Basil, who was lying still where he had fallen. He didn’t move as she touched him.
‘Basil! Are you all right?’
She slipped her hand under his shoulder to try to pull him up, and found her fingers were wet. ‘You’re hurt,’ she said in consternation. ‘Oh you fool, why did you do it? You knew he had a gun!’
Light fell across her shoulder – one of the servants bringing up a torch. It wavered madly back and forth. She used both hands and managed to pull him over, and as he rolled on to his back, blood pulsed up into the air in a glittering black fountain.