‘Yes, I am.’
‘Then I’d urge you to carry on as if nothing had happened. You must give her no indication at all that you’ve been harbouring any suspicions. Meanwhile,’ said Cardonnel, ‘I’ll make His Grace aware of what you’ve told me. He might well want us to contrive a casual meeting with the lady so that we can sound her out a little.’
‘It’s strange,’ said Amalia, gripped by remorse. ‘I feel as if I’m betraying a friend.’
Before he could reassure her, Cardonnel saw someone walking rapidly towards him. After giving him a salute, the soldier handed him a message. Cardonnel read it then dismissed the man with a nod.
‘Your fears were far from groundless, Miss Janssen,’ he told her. ‘It seems that Sophie Prunier is no longer in the camp. Somehow, she left during the night.’
Bound hand and foot, Daniel had found it impossible to sleep. All that he could do was to lie on the bare ground while two armed guards occupied the tent with him. It had been a time for recrimination. He rebuked himself for letting his search for the sword blind him to the hazards of such a quest. In thinking that the weapon would still be in the wagon, he’d been misled. In imagining that Alphonse and his father were friends of his, he’d not even considered that one of them might report him. In bringing Henry Welbeck — then getting himself caught — he’d stranded his friend in enemy territory. The momentary relief of actually seeing his sword had been completely erased by the confrontation with Major Crevel. He was in dire straits. Daniel had been captured, identified and exposed for what he was. He could look for no quarter from the enemy.
‘So this is the infamous Captain Rawson, is it?’ said Burgundy, regarding him with distaste. ‘His audacity has finally got the better of him, it seems.’
‘Too true, my lord,’ said Vendome, delighted to be able to show off his captive. ‘He felt that he could walk in and out of the French camp with impunity. His calculations went awry this time.’
‘I’m pleased to hear it.’
‘I daresay that you’re also pleased that you spurned my wager.’
‘That’s immaterial, my lord Duke.’
‘Your purse would have been seriously lightened.’
With his hands tied behind his back, Daniel stood in Vendome’s quarters while the two commanders looked at him as if he was an animal in a cage. He was taunted, laughed at and humiliated. What made his suffering more intense was the fact that his sword was on a table over a yard away. The weapon with which he’d killed so many Frenchmen in battle was now in the possession of the enemy.
‘What do you intend to do with him?’ asked Burgundy.
Vendome grinned. ‘I know what I’d like to do,’ he said, ‘and that’s to flay him alive for all the trouble he’s given us.’
‘That would be ignoble and improper.’
‘It would also be wasteful. The captain is a worthy prize. I’m sending him to Versailles where he can be sternly interrogated and where His Majesty can appraise him.’
‘My grandfather will be intrigued to meet him.’
‘I’m sure that he’ll devise a suitable punishment. It may even be,’ he went on with a vindictive laugh, ‘that he sends Captain Rawson to the Bastille.’ He turned to Daniel. ‘You’ll not find it so easy to escape from there when you’re kept in chains.’
Retaining his composure, Daniel was determined to show no fear. While the two commanders were gloating over him, he was taking their measure, noting the sharp contrast in their age and appearance, and the occasional moments of friction between them. Burgundy was nominally in command, but since the prisoner was in Vendome’s hands it was he who’d assumed control and was effectively boasting about it. As he looked into Vendome’s unforgiving eyes, Daniel could see why Amalia had been so frightened of him.
After goading the prisoner for a few minutes, Vendome signalled to the guards to take him out. Burgundy blocked their exit.
‘Wait there,’ he said, a regal hand bringing the guards to a halt. ‘Aren’t you forgetting something, my lord Duke?’
‘I don’t think so,’ replied Vendome.
‘What about his sword?’
‘I thought to keep that as a souvenir.’
‘There are much finer trophies with which to remember this war. I feel that the sword should travel to Versailles with its owner. After all, it was his pursuit of the weapon that brought about his downfall. My grandfather may be amused to hear the tale.’
‘I’d rather it stay here,’ said Vendome.
‘Then I must overrule you,’ insisted Burgundy, taking the sword and examining it before handing it to one of the guards. ‘See that this goes with Captain Rawson,’ he said, curtly. ‘It may well be that His Majesty uses it to cut off his head.’
Henry Welbeck had spent the night in a tree before. Accustomed to sleeping rough, he’d always done so in the company of other soldiers. Now that he was alone, he was more aware of danger. Darkness brought the wood alive and he heard all sorts of threatening noises in the undergrowth. Perched on one of the lower branches of a tree, he eventually managed to doze off. He was roused from his slumber at dawn by melodic birdsong and was immediately aware of the cramp in his limbs. Descending to the ground, he stretched himself to ease the pain then searched for breakfast in a saddlebag.
There was a rivulet nearby and he allowed the horses a drink before using the water to wash his face and to bring himself fully awake. Tethering the horses once more, he returned to the thickets adjoining the road and maintained his vigil. On the previous day, he’d been irritated by Daniel’s failure to return swiftly. Any irritation was now swamped beneath his concern for his friend’s safety. Welbeck used the telescope to scan the road in both directions then pointed it in the direction of the French camp.
It was hours before his patience was rewarded. A patrol came round the bend towards him, a dozen soldiers riding in pairs at a brisk trot. It was not their disciplined riding that interested the sergeant. His attention was fixed solely on the cart that rattled along with them. Trussed up, and seated in the rear of it, was Daniel.
‘A pox on it!’ muttered Welbeck, removing his eye from the telescope. ‘What the devil am I supposed to do now?’
Jonathan Ainley was writhing with embarrassment. Summoned to Marlborough’s quarters, he’d hoped for an assignment that showed how much he was valued by the captain general. Instead, he was being admonished for his lack of perception.
‘When did this happen, Your Grace?’ he asked.
‘Some time during the night,’ replied Marlborough. ‘Clearly, Mademoiselle Prunier could not escape without assistance. It remains to be seen who actually provided it.’
‘Are you certain that the lady was a spy?’
‘Why else would she depart so abruptly?’ said Cardonnel. ‘It seems that we were all duped by her.’
‘Not all of us,’ observed Marlborough. ‘Miss Janssen was deceived by her at first but it was she who actually sensed that our French guest was not the harmless victim she claimed to be. Her suspicions were communicated to my secretary but, by that time, it was too late. The bird had flown.’
Ainley winced. ‘I feel such a fool, Your Grace.’
‘You were not to know her true intentions. We, too, accepted her at face value and so did Captain Rawson. The lady was devious.’
‘I should have been more alert when Mademoiselle Prunier asked to see our artillery. What woman likes cannon?’
‘One who’s offered the chance to count their number for the benefit of the enemy. In future,’ said Marlborough, ‘make it a rule never to conduct any stranger around the camp. I’m sure that you did it out of courtesy and — because the stranger in this particular case was a beautiful woman — no whisper of doubt was heard in your ear.’
‘No,’ confessed Ainley. ‘I was gulled.’
‘Learn from the experience, Lieutenant.’
