Drums of War

'Captain Rawson is here, Your Grace,' he said.

'Show him in,' ordered Marlborough.

The guard retired and Daniel immediately entered the tent. After an exchange of greetings, he was offered a seat. He looked at the mound of correspondence on both tables.

'Have I been summoned to act as a messenger?' he asked.

'No, Daniel,' said Marlborough. 'We have a more important task for you. These letters are destined for our allies to warn them of my proposed visits. I have to go first to Dusseldorf to persuade the Elector Palatine to supply troops for service in Italy next year. Then we move on to Vienna so that I can meet the new, young Emperor Joseph. It seems that I'm to be invested with the Principality of Mindelheim.'

'It's a well-deserved honour, Your Grace,' said Cardonnel.

'It will entail pomp and ceremony and I never like that.'

'Will you be going to Berlin?' said Daniel.

'Of necessity,' replied Marlborough. 'We must keep Prussia on our side. I'll have to smooth King Frederick's ruffled feathers a little. I know how upset and angry he is at the behaviour of the Dutch and the Austrians. I share his feelings. When I've calmed him down, I hope to coax 8000 men out of him for the next Italian campaign. After that, we go to Hanover to meet Electress Sophia then on to The Hague.'

'It's a long journey, Your Grace.'

'Adam has calculated that we'll travel over 2000 miles.'

'Including the best part of a week sailing on the Danube,' said Cardonnel. 'We may find that tedious.'

'I'm sure that we will,' said Marlborough, picking up a sealed letter from the desk. 'You, Daniel, will have a much shorter journey to make but one that may be fraught with more danger.'

'Where am I to go?' asked Daniel.

'Paris.'

'You're sending me back again?'

'It's because you know the city so well that you are the ideal person for this assignment. I should warn you, however, that on this occasion, it will not be necessary for you to seduce the wife of a French general in order to gather intelligence. You did that last year and we profited greatly by the information you brought back.'

'Yes,' said Daniel, recalling his dalliance with Berenice Salignac. 'Unfortunately, the lady's husband took exception to my methods. He was bent on revenge and hired two men to murder me. When they took me prisoner instead, General Salignac tried to kill me in a duel.'

'You have a gift for survival,' noted Cardonnel.

'He'll need it,' said Marlborough. 'I foresee many hazards. What I wish you to do, Daniel, is to find someone for me and bring him back to The Hague. Since he's a Dutchman, you'll be able to speak to him in his own language. I just pray that he's still alive.'

'Who is the fellow, Your Grace?'

'Emanuel Janssen.'

Daniel was thunderstruck. 'Do you mean the tapestry- maker?'

'The very same,' confirmed Marlborough. 'He's a master of his craft. King Louis was so dazzled by his artistry that he commissioned a tapestry to hang in Versailles alongside all the Gobelins tapestries. That shows how highly he prizes Janssen's work. He was prepared to pay a high price for it.'

'Emanuel Janssen is a traitor,' said Daniel, coldly. 'He was bought by the enemy and turned his back on his country. Instead of sending me to Paris to bring him home, you should be asking me to slit his throat.'

'Janssen is a braver man than you take him for, Daniel. The first thing he did when he was approached in secret by the French was to inform us. He's a fierce patriot. No amount of money would have made him defect to the enemy.'

'Then why did he do so?'

'Because that's what I asked him to do,' said Marlborough. 'It was too good an opportunity to miss. Janssen was going to be working at Versailles where all the major decisions are made. He would have direct contact with King Louis. Being a tapestry- maker was the perfect disguise behind which to hide.'

Daniel was sobered. 'Are you telling me that he is a spy?'

'He is indeed, Daniel, and quite an efficient one. He lacked the charm to extract information in the way that you do but he kept his ears open and heard much that was of value to us.'

'Why do you want me to bring him back, Your Grace?'

'We fear that he may have been found out. At all events, he's vanished and nobody has any idea where he is. It's very worrying. Having talked him into accepting such a risky business, I feel it's our duty to go to his rescue — if, that is, we can find him.'

'Where was he last seen?'

'Here are all the details,' said Marlborough, handing him the letter. 'When you've committed them to memory, destroy this.'

'Start your search at his house,' advised Cardonnel.

'What if he's already been executed?'

'That's a strong possibility, alas.'

'The French have no affection for our spies,' said Daniel, 'even if they can weave magical tapestries. My guess is that Janssen is dead.'

'Then why have we not heard of his death?' asked Marlborough. 'They would surely have made an example of him and boasted to us that they'd uncovered our ruse. No, Daniel, we must suppose that Emanuel Janssen is still alive.'

'And if he's not, Your Grace?'

'Then you're to bring the others safely out of France.'

Daniel frowned. 'You made no mention of any others.'

'He has an assistant and a servant with him,' said Marlborough. 'But the person who wrote to tell us that he was missing was his daughter. You should enjoy meeting the young lady, Daniel,' he went on with a smile. 'I'm told she's very beautiful.'

Amalia Janssen's face was clouded with misery. She was short and slight with elfin features framed by fair hair that peeped out from beneath her bonnet. Anxiety had etched deep lines into her forehead and lack of sleep had painted dark patches beneath her eyes. She was standing in the front bedroom of their house. Beatrix, the servant, was a plump, plain-faced, nervous woman in her thirties. She was peering out of the window in such a way that she could not be seen from the street. The two women spoke in Dutch.

'Well?' said Amalia.

'I think he's still there.'

'Did you actually see him?'

'I'm not sure,' replied Beatrix. 'But I sense that he's out there.'

'He has been every other day this week. Today should be no different.' Amalia bunched her fists. 'Why is he watching the house? I feel as if I'm a prisoner here.'

'I'm worried about Kees. He's been gone a long time.'

'The market is some distance away.'

'He should have been back by now.'

'He'll have a heavy basket to slow him down.'

'Oh, I hope we don't lose him as well, Miss Amalia,' said Beatrix, turning to face her. 'It's bad enough that your father has gone astray.'

'He's not gone astray, Beatrix. He's been deliberately taken from us and the worst of it is that I have no idea why. You couldn't meet anyone as mild or harmless as Father. He wouldn't hurt a soul.'

'It looks as if somebody might have hurt him!'

'Don't say that,' scolded Amalia. 'We must never give up hope. Even in Paris, the name of Emanuel Janssen compels respect. His reputation has reached every corner of Europe.'

'That may be the trouble, Miss Amalia.'

'What do you mean?'

'Some people might be very jealous of him.'

'Who could be jealous of my father? He's the kindest man in the world. Even his rivals like him. He has no enemies.'

'We're Dutch,' said Beatrix, morosely, 'and Holland is at war with France. We're bound to have enemies.'

'Yet we've lived here for months without any mishap. This is a beautiful, big house and the streets around here are safe to walk in. When people knew what we were doing here, they gave us a welcome. Father is weaving a tapestry by royal appointment.'

'Does the King know that he's disappeared?'

'He must do, Beatrix.'

Amalia wrung her hands. In the time they'd been in Paris, they'd settled into a comfortable routine. While her father and Dopff, his assistant, worked at the loom, she and Beatrix looked after the house. Janssen visited Versailles occasionally to report on progress and to meet some of the other tapestry- makers employed there. Amalia had been thrilled when she had been invited to join her father at a royal garden party. She had never been to such a glittering event and had stared in awe at the ostentation on display. It was an overwhelming spectacle. French nobles and their wives brought a colour and vivacity that made Amsterdam seem dull and lifeless by comparison. When she saw Louis XIV in his finery, moving like a god around the exquisite gardens and acting as a cynosure, she understood why he was called the Sun King. The heady experience had remained a happy memory until now. Suddenly, a dark shadow had been cast over their whole stay in France.