in the wrong direction.
The old man was grumpy but Ronan Flynn had insisted that he was trustworthy. Once engaged, Cornudet was very dependable. He simply liked to be paid well for his services.
'Take this, Monsieur,' said Daniel, fishing in the purse for some coins. 'It will show you how keen we are to retain your services.'
'I'm the best boatman on the river.'
'Then you deserve to be well paid.'
'Thank you,' said Cornudet with something approaching a smile as Daniel pressed coins into his hand. 'You are very kind.'
'There'll be more when we get there.'
'I'll be interested to see where it is, Monsieur Daron.'
'I'll have made up my mind by tomorrow,' promised Daniel, 'though it may be the next day when we actually leave. Whatever happens, I'll be here to see you in the morning.'
Cornudet pocketed the money. 'I'll be waiting.'
Even a river veteran like the old man could not be expected to row five people downstream, especially as they would have luggage with them. In any case, Daniel reasoned, it would be foolish of them to try to escape from the city together. The party needed to split into two groups and leave by different means. To that end, he mounted his horse and rode towards the western gate. He was now dressed as Marcel Daron again. Challenged by the guards, he produced his forged documents and answered a volley of questions about how he'd spent his time while in the city and why he was leaving. There were far more guards than he'd encountered on his way into Paris and they were obviously on the alert. At length, he was given his papers and waved through. He cantered out the gates and went in the direction of the Seine.
After a couple of miles, he found a quiet spot on the river that seemed to fit all his requirements. Shielded by some trees, it was on a bend where it would be easy to unload passengers from a skiff. Travel by water was slow. To have a chance of outrunning any pursuit, they had to move fast by land. Having made his decision, Daniel rode back to Paris and took care to enter by a different gate so that he wouldn't be recognised by the guards who'd seen him earlier. There was far less trouble getting into the city. It was only those wanting to leave who were being questioned and, in some cases, searched. The hunt for Jacques Serval's killer was clearly still going on. When a guard stood back to let Marcel Daron go into the capital, he didn't realise that he had just let the wanted man slip through his fingers.
Daniel was familiar with the geography of Paris now. He was able to take a short cut that took him through a maze of streets to Ronan Flynn's bakery. As he arrived at the shop, he saw that the Irishman had finished work for the day and was about to return home in his cart.
'Wait!' he called.
'Holy Mary!' cried Flynn, seeing him approach. 'What the devil are you doing here?' Daniel's horse trotted up to the cart. 'I thought you'd be well clear of us by now.'
'I was missing the pleasure of your company.'
'You lying hound, Dan Rawson! No red-blooded man on earth would spend time with an old rascal like me when he's got someone like Amalia dancing attendance on him. In your place, I know exactly what I'd be doing right now and it's not simply holding hands with her.' He whistled in admiration. 'I'd no idea a Dutch woman could be so gorgeous.'
'I need to ask you another favour, Ronan.'
Flynn closed an eye. 'It's not another boat you're after, is it?'
'No, I've hired Monsieur Cornudet on your recommendation. I'm sure that he won't let us down.'
'If he does,' vowed Flynn, raising a fist, 'he'll have to answer to me. Alphonse knows that you're a friend of mine.'
'I'm an extremely grateful friend, Ronan.'
'You're not as grateful as I was when you saved me from being shot as target practice by my captors. Until you suddenly came along, I thought my time on this earth was up. A whole heap of gratitude was piled up that day, Dan.'
'That's why I felt able to come to you.'
'So what's this new favour you want from me?' asked Flynn, rubbing his hands together. 'I suppose there's no chance that you want me to take care of Amalia for you, is there?'
'None at all,' said Daniel with a laugh. 'I'd offer you Beatrix but she may not have the same appeal.' Flynn groaned in disapproval. 'All that I have for you this time is a very simple request.'
'What is it?'
'Where can I find a small coach?'
Emanuel Janssen was beginning to wonder if it had all been a dream. Awakened in the night by one of the turnkeys, he'd been told that his daughter, assistant and servant were all safe and well. Equally reassuring was the news that the tapestry on which he'd laboured so long had been rescued from the house. Brief details of what had happened had been contained in the letter delivered to him by means of a stone tossed through the bars. Because it was unsigned, he didn't know who his benefactor might be or if it was all some cruel joke being played on him by the gaolers. The most extraordinary thing about the letter was that it held out the possibility of escape. How it might actually take place was not specified but it had given Janssen the first surge of hope since he'd been imprisoned.
As he sat on the chair in his cell and pretended to read one of the books he was allowed to have, Janssen brooded on the strange event in the night. One way to verify that it had occurred was to read the letter again but he had already obeyed the sender's order to destroy it. After reading it several times and savouring each line, the pattern-maker had swallowed the missive. Nobody else would ever see it now. Had it been a dream? Was he being taunted by the men who kept him there? Or, worst of all, was his mind finally crumbling in the sustained horror of confinement, leaving him prone to wild fantasies? Janssen was confused.
What helped him to cling tightly to hope was the character of the man who'd visited him. He'd been friendly, sincere and spoke in Dutch. His letter had reinforced the impression of someone who could be trusted. Any attempt at escape would involve great danger and considerable daring yet Janssen was not frightened at the prospect. During his fleeting appearance, the nocturnal stranger had imparted confidence. It gave the Dutchman an inner strength. There was no chance of his having weird dreams in the coming night. Responding to the advice in the letter, he'd remain wide awake.
Amalia Janssen had also done Daniel's bidding. In an effort to change her appearance, she'd darkened her hair with dye, taken the colour out of her cheeks with a white powder and put on some old clothing. She'd even bought a pair of spectacles to complete her disguise. What she could never do completely was to hide the beauty of her features and Daniel relished the opportunity to look at them again. Amalia was eager for his approval.
'Do I look different?' she asked.
'Yes, Amalia,' he said with a fond smile. 'You're different and yet essentially the same.'
'Will it help?'
'I'm sure that it will.'
He met all three of them at the tavern where they were staying and spent the first few minutes trying to calm Beatrix's frayed nerves. She could not understand why it was taking so long to put his plan into operation. Dopff, too, was plainly unsettled but his faith in Daniel remained steadfast. He considered the soldier to be their saviour. Without Daniel's intervention, they would still be living in fear in the same house, watched over night and day. They now had a degree of freedom and a promise of escape from the city. Most important of all was the hope that they'd be joined in their flight by his master. How that feat could be achieved, he didn't know but he was won over by Daniel's iron resolve. Beatrix didn't share Dopff's belief in their ultimate success but, after listening to Daniel, she at least began to fret in silence instead of expressing her anxiety aloud.
Wanting to speak alone with her, Daniel took Amalia for a walk. He was delighted when she took his arm so that they could stroll as if husband and wife. Pedestrians and carriages went up and down the boulevard but nobody accorded them more than a cursory glance. They fitted comfortably into the scene. When they reached the river,
