fellow prisoner was bound to speculate on where she’d been. Having met Lieutenant Bouteron — albeit fleetingly — Amalia was in a position to make a judgement. Compared to Vendome, he was definitely the lesser of two evils.
It was well over twenty minutes before Sophie lowered her hands and sat up. She was too embarrassed to meet Amalia’s gaze. All she did was to mumble a few words.
‘Please don’t ask me.’
‘No,’ said Amalia. ‘I promise.’
‘I’m so tired, so very tired.’
‘Then you must rest.’
It was difficult to tell if Sophie was genuinely fatigued or simply unable to bear the weight of humiliation. At all events, she stretched herself out on one of the camp beds and turned her face away. Amalia placed a blanket gently over her. Nothing more was said. Sophie either fell asleep or went off into a reverie. Amalia decided to get what rest she could while she still had the opportunity. There was always the possibility that she, too, might be hauled out during the night to satisfy someone’s lust. As she lay on the other camp bed, she pulled the blanket up over her head in the vain hope that it might shield her from her worst fears. They continued to gnaw at her brain.
Amalia had lost all track of time. She would never know if it was an hour or two before she finally dozed off. What was certain was that sleep did nothing to soothe her troubled mind. It confronted her with new and more hideous terrors. Twisting and turning on the camp bed, she was lucky not to fall off. At one point in her nightmare, she felt as if someone was trying to cut open her skull with a sharp knife. Amalia could hear the bone being sawn through by the blade. A hand then closed over her mouth and she came awake with a start to discover a figure bending over her in the darkness. Thinking that someone had come to kill her, she fought back with her puny strength.
‘It’s me, Amalia,’ whispered Daniel. ‘Don’t struggle.’
She almost cried with relief. ‘How did you get here?’
‘I cut through the canvas.’
‘So that was the noise I heard. I thought my head was being split open by someone.’ She sat up and embraced him. ‘Oh, I’m so glad to see you, Daniel.’
‘Keep your voice down,’ he said. ‘I’ve come to rescue you.’
‘What about Sophie?’
‘Who is she?’
‘She’s my friend,’ said Amalia, indicating the other bed. ‘We can’t leave without her.’
Speaking softly into his ear, she gave him a terse account of what Sophie Prunier was doing there. Daniel was forced to make a hasty decision. Crossing to the other bed, he put one hand over Sophie’s mouth and used the other to rouse her. When the woman’s eyes blinked open, Amalia reassured her that she was in no danger. Introduced to Daniel and offered the chance of escape, Sophie took time to come fully awake and make up her mind. She kept glancing nervously in the direction of the two guards outside the tent.
‘Would you rather stay here?’ asked Amalia.
‘No,’ said Sophie, getting up. ‘I’ll come.’
‘Hold on for a moment,’ said Daniel.
The women watched while he put a stool on each of the camp beds and covered it with the blanket to make it look as if someone was still there. Then he blew out all but one of the candles. In the dark, all that could be seen were the lumps in the two beds. Daniel believed they’d be enough to deceive anyone who happened to glance in.
He led the way through the slit in the rear of the tent then folded it back in position. Signalling for them to stay low and keep silent, Daniel set off and took them on a meandering path through the camp, skirting any signs of activity. Amalia and Sophie obeyed every order. When he dived full length on the grass and told them to follow suit, they did so without hesitation. Nor did they object to crawling through a hedge then wading up to their knees through a stream. It seemed to take an age to reach the perimeter of the camp. In order to elude the picquets, they had to go down on their stomachs again and inch their way along the ground as soundlessly as possible. By the time they reached the safety of a stand of trees, Amalia and Sophie were soaked, filthy and trembling with fright.
Daniel tried to instil confidence in them by stressing that the worst was over. Under the cover of the trees, he was able to lead them to the place where he’d earlier concealed the two horses he’d brought into the camp. They were sufficiently far away from danger to be able to speak to each other at last.
‘I know that Amalia can ride,’ he said. ‘What about you, Sophie?’
‘Yes,’ she replied, ‘I learnt to ride as a girl.’
‘Mount up and follow this road until you come to an old mill. It’s quite dilapidated but a useful place to hide. I noticed it on the way here. Wait for me at the mill.’
‘Where will you be?’ asked Amalia, worried.
‘I have to retrieve my wagon,’ he explained. ‘If I can get that out of the camp, you’ll be able to travel in a little more comfort.’
‘What if we get lost?’
‘Stay on this road and there’s no chance of that, Amalia.’
‘How long will you be?’
‘That will depend on how lucky I am. I should be no more than an hour. If I’m not there by dawn, ride off without me.’
Amalia was aghast. ‘We can’t do that, Daniel.’
‘Do you want to be recaptured?’
‘No, no…it’s frightening in there.’
‘Then do as I say,’ he went on, handing her his map. ‘There’s a road that runs north from the mill. When you have enough light, you’ll see from the map that it will take you to Terbanck where our army is camped. I’ll follow you somehow.’
‘I still can’t believe that you got here, Captain Rawson,’ said Sophie, unable to understand his conversation with Amalia in Dutch. ‘How did you get inside the camp?’
‘I’ll tell you that in due course,’ he replied, speaking in French. ‘Ride off to the old mill with Amalia. There’s food and wine in the saddlebags to sustain you.’
‘Thank you. I can’t tell you what this means to me.’
‘There’s no time to talk,’ he told them. ‘I need to sneak back into the camp for the wagon. I’ll be as quick as I can.’
After helping Amalia up into the saddle, he did the same for Sophie, repeating his orders once more. Scared that he’d no longer be with them, they left with misgivings. Daniel watched them go until they were swallowed up by the darkness. He then went back to the camp along the same route used to leave it, eluding the picquets and going in a wide circle towards the area where his wagon was waiting. The horse was harnessed and the vehicle was ready to leave even though he wasn’t entirely sure how or if he’d get it out of the camp. Alphonse had unwittingly shown him one possibility. It would involve taking the wagon across the stream higher up where the noise he’d create was less likely to be overheard.
The main object of the exercise had been achieved. Amalia had been rescued and she was now relatively safe. The presence of Sophie Prunier was an unforeseen complication but one that had to be accommodated. Daniel had seen the bond that had grown up between the two women during their imprisonment. Sophie had obviously helped Amalia endure the horrors of being in French hands and, for that reason alone, Daniel was willing to involve her in the escape. First, however, he had to retrieve his wagon.
Creeping between the tents, he reached the area where the camp followers were stationed and moved between their carts and wagons like a phantom. Nobody stirred. When he was almost there, Daniel allowed himself a moment of self-congratulation. So far his plan had worked to perfection. There was only one problem.
His wagon had disappeared.
‘They should have caught them by now,’ complained Welbeck.
‘I agree, Sergeant,’ said Jonathan Ainley. ‘But, as far as I know, they haven’t had so much of a glimpse of the
