It was an unwise moment to remind Vendome that he was not the commander-in-chief. Losing his temper, he lashed out with a hand and slapped Crevel hard across the cheek. He then unleashed such a gushing stream of vituperation that the erstwhile major cowered before him and plucked hastily at the buttons of his coat. When it had been removed, Vendome snatched it from him and hurled it into the corner of the tent.
‘Get out of my sight!’ he yelled, quivering with rage. ‘You’re confined to your quarters until I can decide on your punishment.’
‘At least, give me leave to apologise,’ pleaded Crevel.
But there was no chance of that. Vendome raised his hand to strike again and Crevel gave up. Waddling ridiculously, he hurried out of the tent. It was some minutes before Vendome’s ire gradually subsided. Lieutenant Valeran, meanwhile, lurked silently in his corner, too frightened to venture an opinion lest the ducal anger be turned on him. He was relieved when the older man seemed to calm down. Vendome lowered himself onto a chair and was deep in thought for a while. Making a decision, he suddenly got up again.
‘I want him,’ he said.
‘Shall I fetch Major Crevell back?’ asked Valeran.
‘I don’t want him, Raoul. I never want to see that buffoon again. No,’ he went on, ‘the man I’m after is that venomous wine merchant. I won’t allow anyone to humiliate us like this. I want Marcel Daron — or whatever his real name is — standing before me in chains.’
‘How can we arrange that?’
‘Use your imagination, man. We have intelligencers in the enemy camp. Let them earn their money for once. Someone will have boasted of how they stole the uniform of a French officer. I want to know who he is.’ He put a hand on Valeran’s shoulder then lifted it to brush back a wisp of the lieutenant’s hair. ‘I need a name, Raoul,’ he said, eyes glinting, ‘then the hunt can begin.’
CHAPTER SIX
Lieutenant Jonathan Ainley was a tall, thin, pale-faced man with a long, beaky nose competing for facial dominance against an unusually large and dimpled chin that curved upwards. An efficient officer, he’d settled well into army life and learnt to accept its many shortcomings without complaint. Set against its defects, however, there were definite advantages. One of these was the warm camaraderie that existed and Ainley relished this aspect of his chosen lot. Drawing on their support, he was excessively friendly and obliging to all his fellow officers. In the case of Daniel Rawson, he hovered close to hero worship.
‘Tell me the story in your own words,’ he urged.
Daniel shook his head. ‘There’s nothing to tell, Jonathan.’
‘Nothing to tell?’ echoed Ainley. ‘If I’d abducted a French officer then used his uniform as a disguise, I’d be crowing about it from the rooftops.’
‘That’s perhaps why you’re not involved in espionage,’ said Daniel. ‘When you gather intelligence, discretion is everything. How did you come to hear about it?’
‘A little bird told me, Daniel.’
‘Then he’s been singing too loud. You might warn him that if I find out who he is, I’ll tie his beak shut.’
‘You’re among friends. Why not share your adventures?’
‘Loose tongues can cause trouble,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m sure that the major who loaned me his uniform has found that out by now. My guess is that he’s been severely punished.’
‘Whereas you should be feted for what you achieved.’
‘I did what I was told to do, Jonathan — no more, no less.’
‘You ought to take some pride in your exploits.’
‘Oh, I do,’ admitted Daniel, ‘but only in private.’
They were standing outside Ainley’s tent in the British camp, surrounded by activity and forced to raise their voices above the routine clamour. Drums were beating nearby as soldiers were being drilled. Supply wagons were rolling noisily past. Distant orders were being barked out. Artillery was arriving. Nobody took any notice of the light drizzle that started to fall. After the heavy rain that greeted the arrival of spring, it was a relief.
‘I’m surprised that His Grace could spare you,’ said Ainley. ‘You’re such an important member of his personal staff that he must want you constantly by his side.’
‘You overrate my importance, Jonathan,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m a very junior member of the staff. I’m far more useful if I gather intelligence than I would be if I sat in endless meetings with His Grace.’
‘I thought you acted as his interpreter.’
‘I do on occasion. My command of Dutch, French and German has been put to good use. But I’m not needed when Major General Cadogan is there, because he speaks all three languages.’
‘Heaven knows how he mastered Dutch. It’s so complicated.’
Daniel smiled. ‘That’s exactly what the Dutch say about English because they find it so fiendishly difficult to learn.’
‘All I’ve ever managed are a few phrases in French,’ said Ainley, scratching his chin. ‘Not that it matters, I suppose. On the battlefield, we speak the universal language of brute force.’
‘It is tempered with some subtler tones,’ replied Daniel.
He was about to explain what he meant when he spotted the unmistakable frame of Henry Welbeck coming towards him and hailed his friend with a wave. Since Daniel was in the company of another officer, the sergeant spoke with more formality.
‘Good morning, Captain,’ he said. ‘Good morning, Lieutenant.’ The two men exchanged greetings with him. ‘I was wondering if there was any news about those men who raided two farms then burnt them to the ground?’
‘I’ve heard nothing more,’ said Daniel.
‘Neither have I,’ added Ainley. ‘What I can tell you is that nobody has been arrested for those outrages. To all intents and purpose, the villains got away with it.’
‘Yes,’ said Welbeck, sourly, ‘and they did so in British uniforms. That’s what irks me. We rarely get permission to forage and, even if we do, we try to show respect to any civilians. Word must have spread by now. Every time people see redcoats coming towards them, they’ll shrink back in fear.’
‘The raiders will be caught sooner or later,’ said Daniel.
Ainley was doubtful. ‘I fear that they’ve gone to ground,’ he said. ‘They could take more chances during the winter when very few people were on the roads. They could strike then disappear very quickly. That’s no longer the situation.’
‘No,’ agreed Daniel. ‘There’s a lot more traffic about now and the evenings are drawing out. It’s not so easy to escape being seen.’
‘Those devils have probably returned to camp now,’ said Welbeck. ‘Without knowing it, one of our cavalry regiments is harbouring ruthless killers.’
‘Some people might say that all soldiers are ruthless killers,’ remarked Ainley with a half-laugh. ‘It’s an occupational necessity at times. However,’ he went on, ‘I’m sure that you didn’t come to talk to me, Sergeant. I’ll leave you to Captain Rawson.’
‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ Welbeck waited until Ainley was out of earshot before turning to Daniel. ‘How ever did that blinking idiot get to become a lieutenant?’
‘He did what most officers do, Henry — he bought a commission.’
‘You didn’t do that.’
‘No,’ said Daniel, ‘but, then, I could never have afforded it. If I hadn’t been promoted on merit, I’d still be stuck in the ranks being bullied by some black-hearted sergeant like you. As for Jonathan Ainley, he’s better than some I could name. He’s a competent officer and respected by his men.’
‘Well, he’ll get no respect from me.’
Daniel laughed. ‘None of us can expect plaudits from you, Henry,’ he said. ‘I sometimes think that you joined the army for the express purpose of despising its officers. According to you, we’re all complete dolts.’
‘There are a few exceptions.’
‘Does that mean we’re slowly winning you over?’
‘There’s not a chance of that, Dan,’ asserted Welbeck. ‘I’ve spent too many years taking stupid orders from well-bred fops who simply want to shoot game, drink wine and play cards all day.’