Fire and Sword

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The raid was a disappointment. After their setback at the preceding farm, they’d chosen a smallholding on this occasion so that they ran no risk of losing any of their number. In fact, there were only three people inside the little cottage and — to their disgust — they were all male. Deprived of their ritual assault on any available women, they killed the men with particular savagery, stole what little money there was and took some of the livestock. As they rode away, the night sky was lit by flames from the bonfire and the loud crackle pursued them for half a mile. It was almost dawn by the time they reached their refuge. Lurching into their farmhouse, the first thing they did was to assuage their fury with beer or wine.

‘That was a waste of time, Matt,’ said Edwin Lock, bitterly. ‘We rode all that way just to warm our hands at a fire.’

‘I’m sorry about that,’ said Searle. ‘I expected more.’

‘We all did. At the very least, we hoped for a tumble with a farmer’s wife or with a milkmaid.’

‘I definitely saw women there when I rode past a few days ago, Edwin. They must have been visitors.’

‘This life is starting to get me down,’ moaned Hugh Davey, undoing the buttons on his jacket. ‘I’ve had enough.’

‘Nobody walks out on me,’ warned Searle. ‘When you agreed to join us, Hugh, you swore to accept my leadership.’

‘Things have changed, Matt.’

‘We’ve had a little upset, that’s all.’

‘It’s not all,’ corrected Lock before taking another swig from the flagon of wine. ‘We’ve been let down twice in a row now. Last time, we had to leave Gregory behind.’

‘That was his own bleeding fault,’ snapped Searle.

‘This time, we got little money and no women.’

‘Edwin is right,’ said Davey. ‘It was a complete waste of time.’

‘What would you rather do?’ demanded Searle, rounding on him but addressing the other six of them as well. ‘Would you prefer to be in the army and have someone else running your lives, telling you when you can eat, drink, shave and shit? Is that what you want?’

‘No, Matt, you know it isn’t.’

‘But for me, the rest of you would still be stuck in uniform. Yes,’ he went on over the mocking laughter, ‘I know that you’re wearing army uniform now but you’re doing it of your own free will. You can take it off whenever you like. Let’s be frank about this,’ he continued, ‘there’s not a man among you who could have organised everything the way I did. I got all of you out of the clutches of the army and I’ve kept you alive ever since.’

‘You didn’t keep Gregory Pyle alive,’ said Lock, sullenly.

‘Nor Ianto Morgan, for that matter,’ said Searle, using the name to counter any stray thoughts they might have of mutiny. ‘You all know the penalty for desertion. Without me, most of you would’ve paid it by now.’

‘That’s not the point, Matt,’ said Davey.

‘Then what is, Hugh?’

‘Well, we can’t go on like this for ever, can we?’

‘No,’ said Lock, smirking. ‘We’ll run out of farms to burn down.’

‘I’m serious, Edwin. When does it all end?’

‘It ends when I say so,’ declared Searle.

Davey was blunt. ‘I think the time has come now.’

‘If that’s how you feel, off you go.’ Davey hesitated and looked around the others. ‘The same goes for the rest of you,’ said Searle. ‘If any of you are stupid enough to imagine that Hugh can get you safely back to England, then you can leave now. I’m not keeping you here.’

He sat back and took a long swig of wine. There was general unease among the others and sheepish glances were exchanged. Worried by the lack of support, Davey began to lose his nerve.

‘Perhaps we’re better off with you, Matt,’ he conceded.

Searle was sarcastic. ‘Oh, you’ve finally realised that, have you?’ he said. ‘You’ve shown a glimmer of intelligence at long last.’

‘I just want to know when we leave.’

‘Then I’ll tell you. We leave at the right moment and that’s not when there are so many patrols out looking for us. We bide our time, Hugh. We stay here and enjoy good food and good beer or wine. It won’t be long before there’s another battle,’ he predicted. ‘Patrols will be recalled then because every man will be needed. That’s when we make our move. That’s when we find our way to the coast and take ship to England. Does anyone disagree with that?’

He met each pair of eyes with an assertive stare. None of the men dared to speak. Matthew Searle had rescued them from an army routine they’d all hated. In spite of its drawbacks, their new life was much more enjoyable. They’d been able to savour a freedom they’d not known for years. Lock was the first to speak up.

‘I’m staying with you, Matt,’ he said.

‘So am I,’ said Davey.

‘What about the rest of you?’ There was a murmur of agreement from the others. Lock turned to his cousin. ‘There you are, Matt. We all want to stay if you can find us some willing women.’

‘There’s more to life than a hole between a woman’s legs,’ said Searle, philosophically. ‘Money is the key to everything. We need all we can get in order to sail to England and start a new life. When we have money, we can buy whatever we want.’ He raised his voice for emphasis. ‘Bear in mind that the hunt for us won’t end when we get back home. Our names will be listed among other deserters in the London Gazette and elsewhere. There’ll be a description of each one of us. We’ll be fugitives.’

‘I’ll change my name,’ decided Davey.

‘So will I,’ said Lock.

‘Take care to change your appearance as well,’ advised Searle, ‘and stay away from people who know you. If they realise you’re a deserter, they could inform on you.’

‘I never thought about that.’

‘You’ve got me to think of it for you, Edwin.’

‘Thank you, Matt. I can’t wait to get home to England.’

‘Nor can I,’ said Searle, tapping his flagon, ‘though I’ll miss this lovely wine. I never thought I’d learn to enjoy it more than beer.’

‘What I’ll miss,’ said Davey with a lascivious grin, ‘are these gorgeous Flemish women. Apart from them, I leave Flanders with no regrets.’

Lock was wistful. ‘Oh, I have one regret,’ he confided, ‘and I think about it every day. My regret is that I never had the chance to kill that swine of a sergeant, Henry Welbeck. He made my life a misery — God rot his soul!’ He held his flagon aloft. ‘Here’s to the long and agonising death of Sergeant Welbeck!’

Henry Welbeck rode beside Daniel Rawson at the head of a patrol. While the two friends wore civilian garb, the soldiers trotting in pairs behind them were in uniform. The patrol wasn’t simply protecting them, it was scouring the countryside for the deserters who’d caused so much havoc. Reports of the burning of a smallholding and the murder of its occupants had come in to the camp. It was another charge to add to the gruesome record.

‘This is a long way to go for a sword, Dan,’ said Welbeck.

‘I’m hoping we might catch some renegades along the way.’

‘Where did you see them?’

‘I’m not sure that I did, Henry,’ admitted Daniel. ‘I just thought I saw a glimpse of a redcoat where it wasn’t supposed to be.’

‘Then we could be hunting moonbeams.’

‘Someone else spotted them in the same part of the country and they had a clearer view. If the deserters have a hiding place, then it’s there or thereabouts.’

‘That sounds like a hopeful guess to me.’

‘Hopeful guesses sometimes hit the mark.’

‘More often than not,’ said Welbeck, ‘they’re miles wide of it. Still,’ he went on, sardonically, ‘I suppose that hunting for a handful of men in a country as big as this is no worse than searching for a sword in the middle of a vast French army. Both are fairly simple undertakings.’

Daniel chuckled. ‘You were ever the eternal optimist.’

‘I don’t like a wild goose chase, Dan.’

‘Yet you’d enjoy eating the goose if we actually caught it.’

‘Of course,’ said Welbeck. ‘And while we’re at it, couldn’t we catch a flying pig or two? I’m very partial to pork.’

Daniel was glad of his friend’s company and happy to put up with his rumbling cynicism. Since one of his own men was involved, Welbeck had a personal stake in the arrest of the deserters. Daniel was driven by the desire to exact revenge on behalf of the farmer who’d helped to save his life. The problem, he knew, was visibility. A patrol as large and conspicuous as the one at his back could be seen from miles away, giving the renegades plenty of time to go into hiding. When they got nearer to the copse where he’d seen the stray redcoat, therefore, Daniel intended to proceed with only Welbeck for company. Two men in rustic attire would blend more easily into the countryside.

‘Who was the other woman?’ asked Welbeck.

‘Mademoiselle Sophie Prunier — she’d been lured into the camp to provide sport for one of the officers.’

‘That’s nothing new. We have officers who’ve done that.’

‘Not while His Grace is around,’ said Daniel. ‘He takes a dim view of anyone who entices women into the camp.’

‘I agree with him. One disease-ridden whore can infect dozens of men with the pox. They’re useless as soldiers then. Nobody can shoot straight while he’s scratching his balls with the other hand.’

‘Sophie is not in that class, Henry. As you saw for yourself, she’s very wholesome. Her only fault was to be too trusting when a handsome lieutenant invited her into the camp.’

‘What will happen to her?’

‘Eventually, I daresay, she’ll be escorted back to Mons.’

‘And what about Amalia — will she return to Amsterdam?’

‘No,’ said Daniel, ‘she’ll remain in camp for a while. His Grace has promised to write to her father with the news that she’s been rescued. Their ordeal has had one benefit.’

‘Has it?’

‘Yes, since Amalia and Sophie have been inside the French camp, they were able to describe what they saw and heard. That sort of intelligence is always valuable. What they both need now is time to recover. They went through a very harassing experience and our journey back was not without its adventures. We had some narrow escapes from French patrols along the way. I was relieved when we finally got back to camp.’

‘So was I, Dan,’ said Welbeck. ‘It meant that I could have a decent conversation with an officer instead of listening to a brainless dolt like Lieutenant Ainley.’

The patrol continued for hour after hour, pausing at a small village to take refreshment before pressing on. Though they kept their eyes peeled, the soldiers saw nothing that could lead them to the deserters. Daniel took them on past the forest where he’d had to fight off the two highwaymen and down the road that he’d followed in his wagon. Bringing the column to a halt with a raised arm, he used the telescope to pick out the copse where he’d seen what he believed was a British soldier. Nobody appeared to be there now. He set off again and the patrol followed him until it reached the copse. When all the horses were concealed by the trees, he brought them to a halt and spoke to the lieutenant in charge of the patrol.

‘Sergeant Welbeck and I will go on alone,’ he said.

‘What if you need help, Captain?’ asked the man.

‘We’ll find a way of summoning you. While you’re here, you won’t catch the attention of any lookouts. And after the long ride, I think your men deserve a rest.’

‘What about me?’ protested Welbeck. ‘I’m exhausted.’

‘Do you want to miss the chance of catching Private Lock?’

‘I’d ride another thousand miles to do that, Dan.’

‘Then stop moaning about being saddle-sore.’

Welbeck accepted the reproach. ‘Lead on, Dan,’ he said.

The copse was on a rise that commanded a view across the plain they’d just crossed. When they went down the other side of the rise, they found themselves in open countryside that was dappled with trees and bushes. Bathed in the light of a summer evening, it was an idyllic scene. After a while, they encountered a brook that trickled its way across their path. Leaving Welbeck to water the horses, Daniel dismounted and continued on foot, walking up a gentle gradient until he finally came to a ridge. Realising that he’d be silhouetted against the sky if he remained standing, he lay on his stomach and crawled forward until he reached the crest. The telescope now came into play, searching the horizon in a wide sweep before making a second, more detailed inspection. Daniel stared intently through the lens until it settled on what at first looked like a clump of trees. Rising out of them was a hill on which a figure was sitting as he gazed in every direction. There was no redcoat this time because the man was in his shirt. It was his breeches and boots that identified him. Daniel recognised them as belonging to a cavalryman in a British regiment.

He was thrilled. The wild goose might yet be caught.

By the end of the evening, most of the men had drunk themselves close to a stupor. Two of them played cards while one of them threw horseshoes at a stake he’d set up outside. Searle was studying a map when Hugh Davey came into the house and reached immediately for some beer.

‘I’m finished, Matt,’ he announced.

‘Who’s supposed to relieve you?’

‘It’s Edwin’s turn now.’

‘Wake up,’ said Searle, kicking his cousin. ‘You’re on duty.’

‘I’m too tired,’ groaned Lock, opening an eye.

‘Then I’ll duck your head in a bucket of water.’

‘No, no, Matt — don’t do that!’ Lock was sufficiently scared to haul himself up. He staggered to the door and used it to steady himself. ‘What’s the point of going up there now? It will be dark soon.’

‘That’s when you come down and not before.’

‘Go on, Edwin,’ urged Davey. ‘Take your turn. I was up there while the rest of you were roistering down here.’

‘I’m weary,’ said Lock, yawning by way of illustration.

‘Are you still here?’ said Searle, rising to his feet and pulling out a dagger. ‘Do as you’re told or you’ll get this up your arse.’

‘All right, all right,’ said Lock, holding up both palms. ‘There’s no need to be violent. I’ll act as lookout. Just give me time to wake up properly first.’

To encourage him on his way, Searle jabbed playfully at him with the dagger. Lock jumped quickly out of the way and fled from the house. As he crossed to the hill, he had to dodge a wayward horseshoe that missed the stake by several yards. Climbing upwards was an effort for a man with tired limbs and blurred vision. When he reached the top of the hill, he picked up the loaded musket that had been left there by Davey and used it for support. His head slowly cleared. He surveyed the landscape in every direction, seeing how the shadows were lengthening across the grass.

Lock knew that his cousin was right. A lookout was essential to their survival and it was only fair that each of them took it in turns. Searle himself was not excluded from the duty. He’d been up on the hill earlier in the day until he was relieved by the next man. Lock hated the chore. It reminded him too much of the army from which he’d fled. He’d always found sentry duty to be boring and dispiriting. When he’d deserted, he hoped that he’d put it behind him. Yet here he was again with a musket in his hands, staring at an empty landscape for a danger that never appeared. It was demoralising.

After a while, he lowered the weapon to the ground and sat cross-legged beside it. That offered him some relief. The grass was long and the ground soft. Birdsong acted as a gentle lullaby. Lock’s eyes soon began to flutter. Minutes later, he was asleep.

After waiting until dark, Daniel deployed his men around the old farmhouse. He and Welbeck then approached on foot to take a closer look. There was nobody on the hill now. The deserters were all fast asleep inside the building. The first place that Daniel checked was the stables. Six horses were inside and two others were tethered to a fence nearby. That told them how many men they were up against. Welbeck led one of the horses away and Daniel followed with two more in tow. Leaving the animals with members of the patrol, they went back for three more and took them a safe distance away. Daniel brought out the last two horses on his own.

‘I didn’t know we came here to act as horse thieves,’ said Welbeck in an undertone. ‘Are we just making sure that they can’t gallop out of there?’

‘That’s one reason,’ said Daniel, ‘but there’s another as well.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘I didn’t want the horses waking them up.’

‘Why should they do that, Dan? They were as good as gold when we led them out of there. I didn’t hear a peep from them.’

‘It would have been different when the blaze started.’

Welbeck was stunned. ‘Are you talking about a fire?’

‘Yes,’ said Daniel, remembering the gutted farmhouse, ‘I think it’s high time that they had a taste of their own medicine.’

Going back to the stables, he took armfuls of dry hay from the manger and Welbeck did the same. They made a pile in front of the door and beneath the windows. Daniel even tossed some up onto the roof. When he was ready, he lit the piles of hay and waited for the fire to take hold. It was the signal for the patrol to move forward with their weapons at the ready. Searle and his men were deeply asleep and it was several minutes before any of them heard the noise of the fire or inhaled the clouds of smoke that began to fill the house. The door itself was alight before anyone finally stirred and the front of the building was a sheet of flame.

Screaming, yelling and cursing, the deserters were roused from their beds and came hurtling out half-naked. The first man through the door was Matthew Searle, howling in pain as the fire licked him. Seeing his red hair and beard in the bright glare, Daniel realised who he must be. He showed Searle no mercy. He pounded away at him with a succession of punches then threw him to the ground and stood over him. Searle was cunning. Pretending to be dazed, he suddenly reached out for Daniel’s foot and pulled him to the ground before leaping up and running towards the stables. Expecting to find horses, he was horrified to see that they’d all vanished.

‘There’s no escape, Matthew Searle,’ said Daniel, back on his feet and closing in on him.

‘Who the hell are you?’ roared Searle.

‘My name is Captain Daniel Rawson of the 24^th Foot.’

‘Well, Captain Rawson, here’s a 25^th fucking foot for you.’

Rushing at Daniel, he aimed a kick at him but Daniel caught his foot and pushed hard. Searle fell backwards and struck his head on the hard timber of the stables. This time he really was dazed. Daniel stepped in to administer some more punishment with his fists before throwing him to two men from the patrol. Covered in blood, Searle was almost out on his feet. He was dragged swiftly away.

The other deserters, meanwhile, had all been captured and were struggling in the arms of the soldiers. Welbeck had waited for Edwin Lock, the last of them to emerge, grabbing him by the scruff of the neck and rushing him across the yard to plunge him head first into the water trough. After holding him down for a minute, he brought him up for air, only to thrust him underwater once again. On his second appearance from the trough, Lock was gurgling madly and pleading for release. Welbeck ducked him for a third time before lifting him out of the trough altogether. The sergeant put his whiskery face close.

‘Remember me, Edwin?’ he asked, sweetly. ‘I’m Henry Welbeck. We’ve come to take you back to the army.’

Burgundy made the most of his rare chance to embarrass Vendome. When they met in the commander-in-chief’s quarters, he was smiling for once and looked down his nose at his visitor.

‘Your plan seems to have unravelled, my lord Duke,’ he said with well-mannered glee. ‘You invest immense time and effort in the capture of a single British soldier and you not only fail to catch him, you lose the hostage who was supposed to tempt him here.’

‘That was unfortunate,’ grunted Vendome.

‘It might be all for the best.’

‘I fail to see how, my lord.’

‘You can now attend properly to your duties as a commander.’

‘I’ve always done so,’ said Vendome, stung by the criticism. ‘My duties include the arrest of dangerous enemies, and Captain Rawson, I submit, answers that description. He’s been a thorn in our flesh for years now and needed to be plucked out.’

‘Then where is he?’

‘I have no answer to that.’

‘In other words, your plan was ill-conceived from the start.’

‘I dispute that, my lord. To some degree, it worked perfectly in that the hostage I took did bring him to the camp. I’d hoped that Captain Rawson would be exchanged for the young lady and made overtures to that effect. The Duke of Marlborough sent word that the captain was no longer in his camp.’

‘No,’ said Burgundy, seizing the opportunity to twist the dagger a little, ‘he was already on his way here. Did it never occur to you that the fellow would attempt to rescue the lady?’

‘Of course,’ riposted Vendome. ‘She was closely guarded.’

‘Not closely enough, it seems.’

‘Captain Rawson is very resourceful.’

‘You should have taken account of that fact.’

‘I didn’t expect him to get here so soon.’

‘Do you have any idea how he managed to penetrate the camp?’

‘Not yet,’ confessed Vendome, ‘but I have men searching for that information. We’ll soon know what device he employed.’

‘You should have anticipated it,’ said Burgundy. ‘What use is wisdom after the event? All that you can do now is to shut the stable door after the horse has bolted. The resourceful captain is unlikely to use the same stratagem again.’

Vendome was livid. The rescue of Amalia Janssen had annoyed him intensely but he’d hoped to keep it secret. That was clearly impossible. Burgundy had been watching him, noting his every move and waiting for him to make a slight mistake so that he could enjoy reprimanding him. It was a means of enforcing his authority and it wounded Vendome to the quick. As a commander, he had infinitely more flair, experience and tactical skill than the younger man yet he had to withstand a rebuke. It was time to hit back.

‘May I ask how you come to know of the escape, my lord?’ he asked, politely. ‘It seems such a trivial matter to come to your attention.’

‘When I taxed you earlier with its triviality, you swore to me that the capture of Captain Rawson would have some significance. You intended,’ said Burgundy, ‘to send him back to Versailles.’

‘That’s true, my lord.’

‘Persuaded by your argument, I made it my business to keep abreast of any developments relating to your hostage.’

‘And what exactly did you learn?’

‘That the young lady was held under armed guard and yet she miraculously disappeared.’

‘Is that all you learnt?’

‘What else is there?’

‘Evidently, your spies missed something.’

‘They were not spies, my lord Duke,’ said Burgundy, hotly. ‘They were members of the army that both you and I serve.’

‘Then they should be more vigilant,’ argued Vendome, ‘because they gave you an incomplete report. Our hostage was not alone in that tent. She was accompanied by a young lady named Mademoiselle Prunier. Both of them were rescued by Captain Rawson.’

‘That’s a double blow to your reputation, then. You contrive to lose two prisoners at the same time. I scent carelessness here.’

‘Your nostrils deceive you, my lord.’

‘Pray, tell me how.’

‘My plan was never as simple as you believed it to be,’ said Vendome with a touch of pride. ‘While offering to exchange the hostage for Captain Rawson, I never expected Marlborough to give him up so easily. That left a rescue attempt as the most likely outcome and I felt that we were prepared for that.’

‘That was a bad mistake on your part, my lord Duke.’

‘I allowed for that eventuality.’

Burgundy gaped. ‘You expected the rescue to succeed?’

‘I accepted it as a possibility.’

‘Then your plan was doomed from the start.’

‘Not so,’ said Vendome, savouring his moment. ‘You forget Mademoiselle Prunier. When she was thrown into the tent with our hostage, she was posing as the victim of a cruel trick. The two ladies were drawn closely together — I know that for certain.’

Burgundy was perplexed. ‘What are you telling me?’

‘That the tables have been turned on Captain Rawson. He was far too gallant to leave Sophie Prunier behind. Instead of rescuing a young lady in distress,’ said Vendome with a triumphant smile, ‘he was escorting one of my spies into the very heart of the British camp.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘Does that not merit congratulation, my lord?’

Sophie Prunier was delighted to meet the Duke of Marlborough and be received with the courtesy for which he was renowned. While she freely volunteered information about her stay in the French camp, she took care to pass on nothing of real value to the Allied commander. Since he was fluent in French, it was Adam Cardonnel who actually questioned her while Marlborough looked on.

‘What else can you tell us, mademoiselle?’ he probed.

‘Only that I never wish to return to that camp again,’ she said, fearfully. ‘You are the enemy yet you’ve treated me with more respect than my own countrymen. I thank you for that.’

‘You’ll come to no harm here.’

‘That’s what Lieutenant Bouteron promised me. I’d never have dared to accept his invitation otherwise. I’d hate you to think that I’m the sort of woman who would encourage what the lieutenant had in mind. When he revealed his true colours,’ she went on, ‘I was shocked beyond belief.’

‘It’s obviously been a great trial for you.’

‘I can’t bear even to think about it.’

‘The sooner we can reunite you with your family, the better.’

‘My parents are away at the moment, monsieur,’ she told him. ‘Would it be possible for me to stay here for a few days?’

‘Naturally,’ said Marlborough. ‘Stay as long as you wish.’

‘We’ll provide accommodation for you,’ added Cardonnel.

‘What about dear Amalia?’ she asked. ‘Will she be going home to Amsterdam now?’

‘No, Mademoiselle Janssen will also remain here.’

‘Then I hope to see her because I owe her so much. Amalia was such a wonderful support to me. And without her, I’d still be held in custody at that dreadful camp.’

‘You were fortunate to be there when Captain Rawson arrived.’

Sophie beamed. ‘He’s the person I must really thank,’ she said with apparent conviction. ‘When may I see him?’

‘Not for a while, I’m afraid,’ said Cardonnel. ‘He has urgent business elsewhere.’

‘Yes,’ explained Marlborough in his halting French. ‘He’s gone back to the place from which he rescued you.’

‘Whatever for?’ she gasped.

‘It’s a matter of honour, mademoiselle.’

‘Oh?’

‘Captain Rawson has to retrieve his sword.’

‘I don’t understand,’ she said, interest aroused. ‘Why did he leave this sword there in the first place? And how will he get it back?’

Daniel spent the night sleeping under the stars with Henry Welbeck. The patrol set off at dawn, taking the deserters back to the Allied camp. Matthew Searle and his men were a sorry sight, blackened by the fire, wearing almost nothing, seated astride their horses with their hands tied behind their backs. When the column moved off, Welbeck couldn’t resist waving farewell to Edwin Lock.

‘They’ll never wear redcoats again,’ said the sergeant with gruff satisfaction. ‘Their uniforms were destroyed by fire. I just hope that we get back in time to see them executed.’

‘Their fate is irrelevant now, Henry,’ said Daniel. ‘We need to think only of what lies ahead.’

‘Yes…a pointless search for something you’ll never find.’

‘You told me I’d never find those deserters.’

‘That was different, Dan. You had clues to help you.’

‘I have even more clues as to the whereabouts of my sword,’ said Daniel. ‘It’s hidden beneath the seat in the wagon I borrowed from Ralph Higgins. All I have to do is to track it down.’

‘And will the whole French army put their hands over their eyes while you’re doing that?’

‘They won’t even know that I’m there.’

Welbeck shook his head. ‘It’s far too risky — even for you.’

‘I’ve been in and out of that camp before.’

‘You’re tempting Providence by trying to do it again, Dan.’

‘I want that sword.’

‘Does it really mean that much to you?’

‘Yes,’ replied Daniel. ‘The day I picked up that weapon, I came of age. It was the moment I knew I’d be a soldier.’

‘I had a moment like that,’ said Welbeck, sorrowfully, ‘and I’ve regretted it for the rest of my life.’

Daniel laughed. ‘That’s arrant nonsense and you know it. We’re two of a kind, Henry — born soldiers with the urge to fight.’

‘The only urge I have is to stay alive and I’m not likely to do that if I go barging into the French camp with you.’

‘That’s exactly why you’ll stay outside and wait for me.’

‘And how long am I to wait?’ asked Welbeck.

‘Until you’re certain that I’m not coming out again.’

‘Then what do I do?’

‘Come in search of me, of course.’

Welbeck shuddered. ‘And how am I supposed to do that?’

‘Oh, you’ll think of something,’ said Daniel, happily. ‘That’s why I brought you with me.’