‘Who was the other woman?’ asked Welbeck.
‘Mademoiselle Sophie Prunier — she’d been lured into the camp to provide sport for one of the officers.’
‘That’s nothing new. We have officers who’ve done that.’
‘Not while His Grace is around,’ said Daniel. ‘He takes a dim view of anyone who entices women into the camp.’
‘I agree with him. One disease-ridden whore can infect dozens of men with the pox. They’re useless as soldiers then. Nobody can shoot straight while he’s scratching his balls with the other hand.’
‘Sophie is not in that class, Henry. As you saw for yourself, she’s very wholesome. Her only fault was to be too trusting when a handsome lieutenant invited her into the camp.’
‘What will happen to her?’
‘Eventually, I daresay, she’ll be escorted back to Mons.’
‘And what about Amalia — will she return to Amsterdam?’
‘No,’ said Daniel, ‘she’ll remain in camp for a while. His Grace has promised to write to her father with the news that she’s been rescued. Their ordeal has had one benefit.’
‘Has it?’
‘Yes, since Amalia and Sophie have been inside the French camp, they were able to describe what they saw and heard. That sort of intelligence is always valuable. What they both need now is time to recover. They went through a very harassing experience and our journey back was not without its adventures. We had some narrow escapes from French patrols along the way. I was relieved when we finally got back to camp.’
‘So was I, Dan,’ said Welbeck. ‘It meant that I could have a decent conversation with an officer instead of listening to a brainless dolt like Lieutenant Ainley.’
The patrol continued for hour after hour, pausing at a small village to take refreshment before pressing on. Though they kept their eyes peeled, the soldiers saw nothing that could lead them to the deserters. Daniel took them on past the forest where he’d had to fight off the two highwaymen and down the road that he’d followed in his wagon. Bringing the column to a halt with a raised arm, he used the telescope to pick out the copse where he’d seen what he believed was a British soldier. Nobody appeared to be there now. He set off again and the patrol followed him until it reached the copse. When all the horses were concealed by the trees, he brought them to a halt and spoke to the lieutenant in charge of the patrol.
‘Sergeant Welbeck and I will go on alone,’ he said.
‘What if you need help, Captain?’ asked the man.
‘We’ll find a way of summoning you. While you’re here, you won’t catch the attention of any lookouts. And after the long ride, I think your men deserve a rest.’
‘What about me?’ protested Welbeck. ‘I’m exhausted.’
‘Do you want to miss the chance of catching Private Lock?’
‘I’d ride another thousand miles to do that, Dan.’
‘Then stop moaning about being saddle-sore.’
Welbeck accepted the reproach. ‘Lead on, Dan,’ he said.
The copse was on a rise that commanded a view across the plain they’d just crossed. When they went down the other side of the rise, they found themselves in open countryside that was dappled with trees and bushes. Bathed in the light of a summer evening, it was an idyllic scene. After a while, they encountered a brook that trickled its way across their path. Leaving Welbeck to water the horses, Daniel dismounted and continued on foot, walking up a gentle gradient until he finally came to a ridge. Realising that he’d be silhouetted against the sky if he remained standing, he lay on his stomach and crawled forward until he reached the crest. The telescope now came into play, searching the horizon in a wide sweep before making a second, more detailed inspection. Daniel stared intently through the lens until it settled on what at first looked like a clump of trees. Rising out of them was a hill on which a figure was sitting as he gazed in every direction. There was no redcoat this time because the man was in his shirt. It was his breeches and boots that identified him. Daniel recognised them as belonging to a cavalryman in a British regiment.
He was thrilled. The wild goose might yet be caught.
By the end of the evening, most of the men had drunk themselves close to a stupor. Two of them played cards while one of them threw horseshoes at a stake he’d set up outside. Searle was studying a map when Hugh Davey came into the house and reached immediately for some beer.
‘I’m finished, Matt,’ he announced.
‘Who’s supposed to relieve you?’
‘It’s Edwin’s turn now.’
‘Wake up,’ said Searle, kicking his cousin. ‘You’re on duty.’
‘I’m too tired,’ groaned Lock, opening an eye.
‘Then I’ll duck your head in a bucket of water.’
‘No, no, Matt — don’t do that!’ Lock was sufficiently scared to haul himself up. He staggered to the door and used it to steady himself. ‘What’s the point of going up there now? It will be dark soon.’
‘That’s when you come down and not before.’
‘Go on, Edwin,’ urged Davey. ‘Take your turn. I was up there while the rest of you were roistering down here.’
‘I’m weary,’ said Lock, yawning by way of illustration.
‘Are you still here?’ said Searle, rising to his feet and pulling out a dagger. ‘Do as you’re told or you’ll get this up your arse.’
‘All right, all right,’ said Lock, holding up both palms. ‘There’s no need to be violent. I’ll act as lookout. Just give me time to wake up properly first.’
To encourage him on his way, Searle jabbed playfully at him with the dagger. Lock jumped quickly out of the way and fled from the house. As he crossed to the hill, he had to dodge a wayward horseshoe that missed the stake by several yards. Climbing upwards was an effort for a man with tired limbs and blurred vision. When he reached the top of the hill, he picked up the loaded musket that had been left there by Davey and used it for support. His head slowly cleared. He surveyed the landscape in every direction, seeing how the shadows were lengthening across the grass.
Lock knew that his cousin was right. A lookout was essential to their survival and it was only fair that each of them took it in turns. Searle himself was not excluded from the duty. He’d been up on the hill earlier in the day until he was relieved by the next man. Lock hated the chore. It reminded him too much of the army from which he’d fled. He’d always found sentry duty to be boring and dispiriting. When he’d deserted, he hoped that he’d put it behind him. Yet here he was again with a musket in his hands, staring at an empty landscape for a danger that never appeared. It was demoralising.
After a while, he lowered the weapon to the ground and sat cross-legged beside it. That offered him some relief. The grass was long and the ground soft. Birdsong acted as a gentle lullaby. Lock’s eyes soon began to flutter. Minutes later, he was asleep.
After waiting until dark, Daniel deployed his men around the old farmhouse. He and Welbeck then approached on foot to take a closer look. There was nobody on the hill now. The deserters were all fast asleep inside the building. The first place that Daniel checked was the stables. Six horses were inside and two others were tethered to a fence nearby. That told them how many men they were up against. Welbeck led one of the horses away and Daniel followed with two more in tow. Leaving the animals with members of the patrol, they went back for three more and took them a safe distance away. Daniel brought out the last two horses on his own.
‘I didn’t know we came here to act as horse thieves,’ said Welbeck in an undertone. ‘Are we just making sure that they can’t gallop out of there?’
‘That’s one reason,’ said Daniel, ‘but there’s another as well.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘I didn’t want the horses waking them up.’
‘Why should they do that, Dan? They were as good as gold when we led them out of there. I didn’t hear a peep from them.’