'Keep walking.'
'We're not supposed to be outside the boundary of the camp.'
'Keep walking,' he ordered, tightening his grip on her arm so that he could pull her forward. 'You've behaved yourself this far, Miss Piper. If you become obstructive, I shall get very angry.'
'I just want to know what's happening!' she exclaimed.
'We are going for a pleasant walk, that's all.'
'Where are you taking me?'
'Stop asking questions.'
'I want to know what's going on.'
'Come now, Miss Piper,' he said. 'You're an intelligent young lady. You must have worked it out by now. You're being kidnapped.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
The search was systematic and wide-ranging. Organised by Daniel Rawson, teams of men scoured the camp in the fading light and looked into every tent and wagon. To his credit, Sergeant Henry Welbeck suppressed any comments he might have wished to make about the troublesome nature of women and joined in the hunt with enthusiasm. Having investigated every inch of the route between the tent where Abigail Piper had been staying and Daniel's quarters, they broadened the search. When it failed to find any trace of the missing person, Daniel was baffled.
'Somebody must have seen her, Henry,' he said to Welbeck. 'She was the sort of young lady to turn heads.'
'More than heads, from what I gather,' murmured Welbeck.
'She simply has to be here.'
'Well, we can find neither hide nor hair of her, Dan. My guess is that she may no longer be in the camp.'
'Where else can she be?'
'I've been thinking about that description you gave me of the man who may have abducted her. The beard deceived me at the start until I realised that he might have grown it since we last saw him.'
'Who?'
'That skulking deserter,' said Welbeck. 'Private Will Curtis.'
Daniel started. 'Would he be bold enough to sneak back into the camp?' he asked, disturbed by the notion.
'He was bold enough to try to behead you, Dan, and — if my guess is right — he was daring enough to fire that shot at you. Curtis is as bold as brass. It was the first thing I noticed about the bugger.'
They were still speculating on what might have happened to Abigail when a corporal brought a man over to them who wore the uniform of the Dutch army.
'This is Private Berchem,' said the corporal. 'He's a blacksmith, sir. His English is poor but he thinks he can help us.'
'Can you?' asked Daniel, speaking to him in Dutch.
'I hope so, sir,' replied the man. 'I was shoeing a horse when they went past me. They were only yards away.'
'What did you see?'
'I saw a British soldier and a beautiful young lady. I wondered why they were so close to the Dutch camp. The last time I saw them, they went towards a large tent.'
'Did you see them go into it?' pressed Daniel.
'No, sir,' said the man. 'When you are hammering a horseshoe into place, you have to keep your eyes on what you are doing. But I fancy that they might have gone into the tent.'
'Could you take us there now?'
The Dutchman nodded. 'Yes, Captain.'
Welbeck was exasperated. 'What the hell is the fellow saying?'
'I'll tell you on the way,' said Daniel.
Understanding the urgency of the situation, the Dutchman set a good pace. Daniel and Welbeck walked beside him. After a few minutes, they came to the large tent being used as a store.
'My men have already looked in there,' said Welbeck. 'It's full of stuff we captured at the Schellenburg. There's nobody in there.'
'Let's take a second look,' said Daniel.
Opening the flap, he peeped into the tent but it was too dark for him to see anything properly. He borrowed Welbeck's lantern so that he could conduct a proper search. The sergeant, meanwhile, turned back the flaps of the tent. At first, Daniel found nothing of interest but he did not give up. Holding up the lantern, he looked behind boxes, baggage and piles of equipment. When he shed some light on a large wooden box, he saw something on the ground behind it. He reached down swiftly to retrieve a lady's handkerchief. As he sniffed it, he caught a faint whiff of the perfume that Abigail had worn on the occasions when they had met in London.
'This belonged to her,' he said. 'She was here.'
'Are you sure?' asked Welbeck.
'She must have left the handkerchief deliberately. At least, we know where she was brought when she left her quarters.'
'But where is she now, Dan?'
'Abigail must somehow have left the camp,' concluded Daniel, masking his anxiety. 'We must speak to the pickets. Someone must have seen them leave. Once we know the direction in which they went, we can continue the search on horseback. Hurry,' he added as he rushed out of the tent. 'Every minute may be crucial.'
Edward Marston
Soldier of Fortune
There had been no time for introductions. Frederic Seurel was waiting for them with the horses but he was only able to give Abigail Piper a brief glance before they set off. Charles Catto rode on one horse with Abigail sitting astride behind him. They cantered through the woods until they came out into the open. Light was slowly being squeezed out of the sky but they could still pick out the silhouette of a cottage that stood beside a fork in the road. Leading the way, Seurel veered off along the track to the left and rode on for miles before they came to a small village.
Candles gave off a faint glow in the windows but the street was in dark shadow. Reaching the inn on the far side of the village, they rode into the courtyard at the rear. Seurel had already reserved rooms for them. A servant came out to stable the horses while they entered the inn. Charles Catto took Abigail by the arm.
'Remember what I told you,' he said, as he guided her through the door. 'Behave yourself or you'll regret it.'
'Where is this place?' she asked.
'It's a long way from the good Captain Rawson.'
They came into the main room where a couple of local men were quaffing their ale at a table. Catto exchanged a greeting with the landlord before taking Abigail upstairs. Seurel followed and indicated their rooms. They went into the first of them, a small, untidy, low-ceilinged chamber with a musty smell and noticeable gaps between its oak floorboards. When Catto had lit some candles, Abigail saw that it was a dingy room filled with ugly furniture. Taken there against her will by two strangers, she looked at the little bed with trepidation. It took on the air of an instrument of torture.
Seurel was studying her for the first time, running lecherous eyes all over here and grinning as he did so. He spoke in French.
'She's very pretty, Charles,' he said, leering at her. 'We can take it in turns.'
'Keep your hands off her,' warned Catto. 'She's a hostage and nothing more. I didn't bring her here for your entertainment.'
'We can't waste a chance like this.'
'You'll do as I tell you.'
'I need a woman to warm my bed at night.'
'Then find yourself another one. Miss Piper is not for you.'
