beholding a miracle.
Daniel had left them beside the coach while he walked back to the edge of the woods. Through his telescope, he'd been watching the main road for signs of pursuit. Since the escape would definitely have been discovered by now, he'd expected search parties to be sent out but none appeared on the main road. Daniel concluded that they must have reason to believe the fugitives were still within the city walls. It was a boon to them. Their journey through France would be much easier without a posse on their heels but he was very conscious that other dangers would lie ahead. After a few more minutes, Daniel went back to rejoin the others. Janssen immediately came across to him and shook his hand warmly.
'Amalia has been telling me what you did for them, Captain Rawson,' he said, effusively. 'We're forever in your debt.'
'I did what was expected of me, that's all,' said Daniel.
'You're far too modest. What you achieved beggars belief. The Duke of Marlborough will hear of this.'
'My task is to make sure that you reach him safely.'
'According to my daughter, you can do anything.'
'That's very flattering but quite untrue.'
'Amalia rarely exaggerates, Captain Rawson.'
'I think it wiser if you don't call me that,' said Daniel. 'We're still on French soil. Until we leave it, my name is Marcel Daron.'
'I'll remember that, Monsieur Daron.'
'And, in the event of our being stopped, the rest of you must answer to the names on your forged papers.'
'Does that mean I'm to travel as Mademoiselle Lantin?' asked Janssen with a wry smile. 'Posing as a woman was a new experience for me. I'm glad I didn't have to speak as Emma Lantin.'
'That will be Beatrix's name from now on. We must be on our way,' he continued, raising his voice to address the others. 'We need to put distance between ourselves and Paris.'
Amalia and Beatrix returned to the coach and climbed in. Dopff clambered up on to the driving seat. Before he got into the vehicle, Janssen had a question for Daniel.
'How good is your memory?' he asked.
'It's fairly reliable, I think.'
'I'm sure it's better than mine. We need to have a long talk. The last time I was at Versailles, I overheard discussions about the war that would be of great interest to the Duke. I want to tell someone about them before I forget.'
'You could always put them on paper,' said Daniel.
'I was about to do that when I was arrested so I was unable to pass on the information to a British agent in the city. I think I'd prefer to confide in you,' said Janssen. 'As a soldier, you'll be able to decide if the intelligence has any real value.'
'I will.'
'Was it explained to you how I worked in Paris?'
'Yes,' said Daniel. 'Whenever you had anything that might be useful, you passed it on to a man named Pierre Lefeaux.'
'He was such a delightful fellow,' recalled Janssen. 'He and his wife became good friends of mine. Pierre was so courageous. He made what I was doing feel very ordinary by comparison. He was the one who took the risks. I don't suppose that you had any dealings with them, by any chance?'
It was not the time to tell him the truth about the fate of his two friends. Janssen was still elated by his escape. Daniel felt that it would be wrong to deprive him of his joy or to upset the others by describing what he'd seen when he visited the Lefeaux household.
'No,' he said, shaking his head. 'I never had that pleasure.'
Ronan Flynn was a dutiful son-in-law. Twice a week, he drove Charlotte and their baby to the village where her parents had their cottage, making sure that he had a supply of the day's bread with them. It was only three miles away from Paris so he could get there and back in an afternoon. When his wife was dressed for the outing, he helped her up on to the cart then passed up
Louise. Wrapped in a shawl, the baby was fast asleep and even the joggling of the cart and the tumult in the streets didn't wake her up. The little family was off on what they believed would be an enjoyable excursion. As they approached one of the city gates, however, they encountered a problem. The gates were locked and armed guards stood in front of them, turning people back. Charlotte was worried.
'What's wrong?' she said.
'I'll go and find out, my darling.'
'Mother and Father are expecting us, Ronan.'
'We'll get to them somehow,' he promised.
Handing her the reins, he hopped down from the cart and walked past a line of others wanting to leave the capital. There was a coach, two carts and a number of horsemen. Flynn strode to the head of the queue where a man was arguing vociferously with one of the guards. It reached the point where the guard lifted his musket to threaten him. Raising both hands in a gesture of surrender, the man backed away and swore under his breath. Flynn spoke to the guard.
'We have to visit my wife's parents,' he said.
'Nobody is leaving today,' warned the guard.
'What's the reason?'
'All the city gates have been shut. Visitors can come in but we've been ordered to let nobody out unless they have authority.'
'Well, we have authority,' said Flynn. 'We're good citizens and we pay our taxes regularly. That surely entitles us to come and go as we wish.' He turned to point down the queue. 'That's my wife, sitting on the cart with our baby in her arms. Surely, you can let us out?'
'No, Monsieur.'
'But we're completely harmless.'
'That makes no difference. We have our orders.'
'Who issued these bleeding orders?' asked Flynn, temper rising.
'It was the Lieutenant-General of Police.'
'Did he have the grace to say why?'
'He did, Monsieur,' replied the guard. 'An important prisoner has escaped from the Bastille. We must make sure that he doesn't leave Paris.'
'He must be very important if you're taking measures like this. Who is the fellow?'
'That's none of your business.'
'It is my business if it spoils a family visit. Who did they have locked away in the Bastille? To cause all this upheaval, he must have been a foreign prince at least.'
'He was a Dutchman,' said the guard. 'That's all I know. Now please turn back.'
Seeing that the guard was adamant, Flynn gave up. It was annoying to him and would be a grave disappointment to his wife's parents. They'd be very anxious when Flynn and Charlotte failed to turn up and their free bread would be sorely missed. The Irishman had almost reached the cart when he realised what the guard had just told him. A Dutchman had somehow escaped from the Bastille and was on the run. Into Flynn's mind came the image of three guests who'd stayed at his house recently. He thought about a boat that had been hired and a coach that was sought. He remembered a number of isolated clues that now fitted neatly together to make a perfect whole. Forgetting his anger at the disruption to their visit, he opened his mouth wide and roared with laughter.
'Dan Rawson!' he said to himself. 'You're a clever old devil!'
The coach kept up steady speed. Daniel was careful to pace the horse, stopping occasionally to let it rest or drink from a stream. When they set off after one such break, Amalia volunteered to sit beside Daniel, allowing Dopff to travel inside the coach for once. Warmed by the afternoon sun, she surveyed the rolling countryside ahead.
'How far will we go today?' she wondered.
'As far as we can before the light disappears,' he said. 'We'll look for a wayside inn. We'll have been driving
