Drums of War

'There are four of them?' said Charlotte with concern.

'It will only be for a short time, my darling.'

'But we don't have enough room for so many.'

'We'll fit them all in somehow,' said Flynn. 'There's room in the attic for the man and the two women will have to share.'

'What about your friend?'

'Oh, Dan Rawson will lay his head down anywhere. He's the one person you don't have to worry about. He's a soldier, used to sleeping on the ground in all weathers.'

'Why are they coming here, Ronan?'

He hunched his shoulders. 'They need a roof over their heads.'

Flynn had told his wife as little as possible. All that she knew was that Daniel and her husband had once fought alongside each other in the army. Charlotte didn't realise that Flynn had been in the British army at the time. She assumed that both men had served under the French flag. The salient point about their friendship was that Daniel had rescued the Irishman when he'd been captured by the enemy. There was an unpaid debt that had to be honoured. Flynn would not, in any case, have been able to give his wife full details of why four strangers were about to descend on her because he didn't know them himself and didn't wish to know. A friend was in trouble. That was enough for Ronan Flynn.

'Who are these people?' asked Charlotte.

'They're friends of Daniel and they've had to leave their house.'

'Why?'

'I've no idea, my darling,' he said, kissing the chevron of concern on her brow. 'Let's wait until they tell us, shall we?'

'It seems so odd, coming here at this time of night.'

He beamed at her. 'Paris is an odd place. Where else could an ugly old Irishman like me marry the most beautiful woman in the world?' Charlotte softened and hugged him in gratitude for the compliment. 'If looking after these people for a few days is all we have to put up with, I'd say that we were very lucky. Doesn't the priest tell us every Sunday that it's good to help others? Or has my French let me down? It sounds to me as if that's what he's saying.'

She was still worried. 'Are they in trouble, Ronan?'

'Yes — they have nowhere to sleep.'

'Where is their house?'

'I don't know,' he told her. 'Somewhere on the other side of the city, I think. There are all kinds of reasons why people have to look for accommodation. Perhaps they had a quarrel with the landlord or discovered the place was infested with vermin. Maybe there was a fire. Whatever the cause, we mustn't pester them with questions. Be nice to them, Charlotte, please. Will you do that for me?'

'I'll do anything for you,' she said.

Flynn embraced her and kissed her on the lips. Before they could savour the moment, however, there was a cry from upstairs as the baby came awake again. Charlotte smiled tolerantly and went off up the steps. Flynn followed her.

For the three Dutch passengers, the ride through Paris at night was nothing short of an ordeal. Having lived in such a pleasant quarter of the city, they hadn't realised that most of it was given over to narrow, fetid, swarming streets lined with tenements and decaying old buildings. The pervading stink was matched by a continuous din. Boisterous taverns and pleading beggars supplied most of the noise. Yapping dogs and screeching cats added a descant. Daniel drove the rattling cart with Amalia beside him. Amid a pile of belongings, the others sat uncomfortably behind them. Beatrix clung to her bag so that none of the grasping hands could steal it while Kees Dopff held the tapestry in his arms as if clinging to a piece of timber in a swollen river. Both of them were highly distressed at the number of drunks who lunged wildly at the cart or threw missiles out of random malice. They were all relieved when they entered the wide thoroughfare of a more respectable district. As the hubbub subsided, they were able to hold a conversation at last.

'Who is this friend of yours?' asked Amalia.

'He's a mad Irishman,' said Daniel, 'and his name is Ronan Flynn. We met when he served in the British army but he later joined a French regiment. That's when we were on opposite sides.'

'Is he ready to help an enemy?'

'We're good friends, Miss Janssen, and we're no longer on the battlefield. Ronan owes me a favour, that's all I'll say.'

'How much does he know about us?'

'Precious little,' said Daniel, 'and I wish to keep it that way. Kees is not going to tell them anything and I doubt if your servant speaks much French but you're obviously an intelligent young lady. I daresay you have some knowledge of the language.'

'I like to think that I do, Captain Rawson.'

'Don't admit that or you're likely to be interrogated.'

'Am I?'

'Ronan won't ask you any questions but his wife is a different matter. Charlotte is French and can't be expected to show the same sympathy to foreigners.'

'I understand.'

'Do you like children?'

The question surprised her. 'Yes, of course I do.'

'They have a baby daughter,' said Daniel. 'I only caught a glimpse of her but she's a gorgeous child. Ronan loves showing her off. Luckily, I'd had time to wash the blood off my face before he handed her over to me or I'd have frightened her.'

'You still haven't told me what happened with that man.'

'We exchanged blows, Miss Janssen.'

'Won't he run off and summon help?' she asked. When Daniel remained silent, she gulped. 'You didn't kill him, did you?'

'I stopped him from bothering you ever again.'

Amalia reeled from the shock. 'No wonder you were covered in blood,' she said. "This is terrible, Captain Rawson. I had no idea you'd have to go to that extreme.'

'My hand was forced.'

'I can see now why we had to leave in a hurry.'

'It's only a matter of time before the body is found,' said Daniel. 'When that happens, the first place they'll go to is your house. We need to be as far away as possible.'

'What about my father?'

'We'll talk about that later.'

'I want to know now,' she insisted. 'Where is he?'

'Your father is being held, Miss Janssen. He's in prison.'

Her face fell. ' Prison? What have they done to him? Is he being fed? Has he been tortured? Father's not a strong man. Being locked up will break him, Captain Rawson.' She tried to hold back tears. 'How can we possibly reach him if he's held in prison?'

'There has to be a way,' said Daniel, thoughtfully. 'All that I have to do is to find out what it is.'

When they finally reached their destination, they were given a cordial welcome by Ronan Flynn and his wife. Charlotte had prepared a meal for them so they all sat around the table together. Even Beatrix, who, as a servant, always ate apart as a rule, was allowed to join them. Dopff was very impressed with the cooking and went into an elaborate mime to congratulate Charlotte. There were some awkward moments but the supper passed off without incident. Having always had her own bedchamber, Amalia was unhappy that she had to share her bed with Beatrix but accepted the situation without complaint. Dopff was content to sleep in the bare attic as long as he could have the tapestry beside him. Daniel agreed to spend the night downstairs.

The visitors adapted slowly to a house that was very much smaller than the one they'd just left and possessed none of its luxuries. They all seemed to be on top of each other. When the women had finally retired, and when Dopff was snoring in the attic, Flynn produced another flagon of wine so that he and Daniel could talk over a cup of it in private. The first thing the Irishman did was to clap his friend heartily on the shoulder.