‘I apologise profusely, Sergeant,’ said Higgins, composing his features into a mask of contrition. ‘By way of recompense, I’ll happily do a portrait of you as well.’
‘No, you won’t, you cheating, two-faced scoundrel!’
‘Don’t yell at him, Sergeant,’ said Daniel, reproachfully. ‘Mr Higgins came here in good faith and he had a reasonable proposal to put to me.’
‘Only after he tricked me into getting you here,’ said Welbeck.
‘That’s as may be. No real hurt was intended.’
‘Yes, it was — my pride has been wounded.’
‘I had no alternative,’ argued Higgins.
‘In that case,’ returned Welbeck, holding up a fist, ‘I’ll have no alternative but to punch the living daylights out of you.’
‘There’s no need for that,’ said Daniel, stepping between them to protect the sutler. ‘I’m certain that Mr Higgins won’t rely on a device like this again. I suggest that we let him get back to his wagon.’
Higgins was relieved. ‘Thank you, Captain,’ he said. ‘Can’t I make you reconsider my offer?’
‘I’m afraid not.’
‘Would you like to hear my offer again?’ shouted Welbeck, waving a fist in his face. ‘Now, get out before I throw you out.’
Still muttering apologies, Higgins retreated from the tent. Welbeck was livid. He was about to speak when Daniel silenced him with a wave. He peeped out through the gap between the tent flaps.
‘He’s gone,’ noted Daniel. ‘I thought he’d stay to eavesdrop.’
‘You should have let me teach him a lesson.’
‘That will come later, Henry.’
‘I hate being deceived like that.’
‘You should be grateful to Ralph Higgins.’
‘Why…for wasting our time like that? Using me like that makes me seethe. Left to myself, I’d have tipped him headfirst into the deepest latrine.’ He took a deep breath. ‘I’m sorry I dragged you over here for no reason, Dan. I was wrong about the man.’
‘But you weren’t — he’s a spy.’
‘How do you know?’
‘I have done a little spying myself, you know,’ said Daniel, smiling, ‘and I know that the first thing you need is a glib tongue. Higgins certainly had that. In offering to do a portrait of me, he gave himself away.’
‘Did he?’
‘Who do you imagine would have got that portrait?’
‘I thought he’d do it for you, Dan?’
‘I might have been given the painted version but the original sketch would have been sent off to the enemy. Somebody has designs on me, Henry, and they need to know what I look like.’
Welbeck was lost. ‘If you think he’s a spy, why let him go?’
‘I wanted to test my theory,’ said Daniel. ‘Find six men and we’ll guard the road out of here. When Higgins drives his wagon towards us, we’ll stop him and take him into custody.’
‘How do you know that that’s what he’ll do?’
‘Because,’ said Daniel with a soft chuckle, ‘it’s exactly what I’d do in his shoes.’
Seated in his wagon, Ralph Higgins worked swiftly. After drawing the sketch of Daniel Rawson from memory, he put it on top of the letter he’d just written and folded the two pages tightly until he could insert them into a pouch of tobacco. He then jumped down from the wagon. A soldier who’d been watching strolled casually over to him.
‘Ah, good afternoon, Corporal,’ greeted Higgins.
‘I’ve come for my tobacco,’ said the man.
‘It’s all ready for you.’ Handing him the pouch, Higgins spoke in an undertone. ‘Have this delivered at once. It’s important.’ He took some money from his customer. ‘Thank you, Corporal. It’s always a pleasure to do business with you.’
As soon as the soldier had gone, Higgins clambered up onto the seat of his wagon and picked up the reins. Feeling the flick of leather, the horse responded by pulling the vehicle away. It went past the other sutlers and the baggage wagons until it came to the road out of the camp. Nobody challenged him. Higgins was free. He allowed himself a congratulatory smirk. It soon froze on his face. Six armed soldiers suddenly emerged from the trees to block his way, muskets trained on him. Henry Welbeck was with them.
‘Stop there or we’ll shoot the horse dead,’ he called out.
Higgins was perplexed. ‘What’s the meaning of this, Sergeant?’ he asked, innocently. ‘Have I done something wrong?’
‘Yes, you have,’ said Daniel, coming into view from behind a large bush. ‘You made a fatal mistake. There’s something I require from you, Mr Higgins,’ he added. ‘Hand it over, please.’
‘Hand what over, Captain?’
‘The codebook you use to send reports to your masters in the French camp.’
‘I really don’t know what you’re talking about.’
Higgins tried to bluff his way out of the situation but he soon realised that it was futile. He’d been found out. As a last resort, he reached inside the wagon for the pistol he kept hidden there. Welbeck gave him no time to use it. Jumping forward, he grabbed the sutler by the leg and yanked him off the seat. As Higgins hit the ground, he groaned in agony and the weapon was discharged harmlessly into the air. Daniel went and stood over him.
‘Now, then,’ he said, politely. ‘Will you tell me where your codebook is or must I ask Sergeant Welbeck to jog your memory?’
Ralph Higgins quailed. He was trapped.
CHAPTER TEN
Amalia Janssen sat in the parlour and read through the letters in chronological order. It was the one sure antidote to her sadness. Whenever she pined for Daniel Rawson, she took out the correspondence he’d sent over the years and undid the pink ribbon around it. There were few letters and they contained very little about what he was doing and where he actually was at any given time. That didn’t concern her. Amalia understood the need for caution. In case the letters fell into the wrong hands, Daniel ensured that he gave away no information whatsoever of military value. The missives were therefore essentially personal. Short and hastily written, they brought immense comfort to her because they were steeped in so much affection. Daniel’s words made her feel that he was sitting there beside her.
When her father came into the room, he could see at a glance what she was doing. He placed a paternal kiss on her head.
‘Are you reading those letters again, Amalia?’ he said.
She put them in her lap. ‘Yes, Father.’
‘You must know every word by heart now.’
‘I like to see Daniel’s hand,’ she said. ‘His writing is so neat.’
‘Then it’s at variance with his character,’ opined Emanuel Janssen. ‘Captain Rawson is such a brave, adventurous man that you’d expect his calligraphy to be much larger and bolder.’ He sat down opposite her. ‘When did the last letter come?’
‘A fortnight ago — but it seems like a year.’
‘Time hangs heavy when a beloved is absent. Console yourself with the fact that it must be the same for him, Amalia.’
‘I doubt it,’ she said, resignedly. ‘Daniel has so many responsibilities that there’s not much time to think about me. I’m not complaining about that,’ she added. ‘I’d hate to be a distraction.’
‘My guess is that Captain Rawson needs a distraction now and then. He’s told us often enough that this war consists largely of watching and waiting until the French make up their minds what they’re going to do. No,’ he said, ‘I fancy that you’re in his thoughts very often.’
‘I hope so.’ She put the letters aside. ‘Have you finished work for the day?’
‘I had to, Amalia. I had that pain in my fingers again.’
She was alarmed. ‘You ought to consult the doctor.’
‘He’ll only tell me what’s becoming more and more obvious. I’m getting old. It’s as simple as that.’
‘How bad is the pain?’
‘I had a sharp twinge now and again, that’s all. I could have carried on but I felt that it was more sensible to hand over to Kees. His fingers are younger and more nimble than mine.’
‘But he doesn’t have your experience.’
‘That will come.’