Drums of War

'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.