4 Under Siege (11 page)

There was no time for self-congratulation. He still had far too much to do. Lighting another candle, he held it up to discover that he was in a cluttered storeroom. A scampering noise told him that some mice had also taken up residence. It had a musty atmosphere and, from the number of cobwebs, he could see that it hadn’t been visited for some time. Fortunately, the door was unlocked. Letting himself out and holding the candle up, he stepped into a narrow passageway that ran the length of the building. There was a nightwatchman on duty but Daniel doubted if the man bothered to come up to the attic rooms. The visitor could move about with impunity. On the next floor down, Daniel was more cautious, shielding the candle with a hand as he went from room to room.

It was on the floor below that he eventually found the place he was after. A sign on the door told him that the municipal archives were kept there. There was only one problem. The door was securely locked. He first tried to unlock it with the point of his dagger but to no avail. Since the weapon was a treasured gift, he didn’t want to risk damaging it by using it as a lever to prise open the door so he fell back on brute force. Taking a few steps back, he flung himself hard at the door. His right shoulder hit the timber with such impetus that the lock snapped open and the door was flung back on its hinges. In the cavernous emptiness of the town hall, the noise was amplified ten-fold. It reverberated for seconds.

From somewhere far below, an angry yell arose.

‘Who’s up there?’

Daniel had company.

There was no apparent escape. Daniel couldn’t risk leaving by means of the rope and, in any case, he refused to run away without even trying to find Vauban’s plan. Since the nightwatchman would have to conduct a systematic search of a large building, Daniel would at least have some time on his side. What he needed to do, he decided, was to create some kind of diversion. Candle in hand, he went along the corridor and tried all the doors until he found one that was unlocked. He darted inside, pulled out a wastepaper basket and swept all the letters and documents on the desk into it. Then he set the paper alight with his candle and put it where the flames would catch the edge of a chair. He rushed out and closed the door behind him.

As he ran back to the other room, he heard worrying sounds from below. The nightwatchman had opened the main door and was asking for help from the guards outside. Daniel counted three pairs of footsteps pounding up the stairs. He moved like lightning. Entering the room with the archives, he closed the door and propped a chair against it. Then he began as thorough a search as he could manage by the light of the candle, opening drawers in sequence and taking out armfuls of charters, muniments and other documents. What he was given was a fleeting history of Lille and, under other circumstances, would have found it quite fascinating. Now, however, everything was hastily discarded onto the floor as he scrambled to find the details of the fortifications.

There was no sign of them and he began to wonder if the plan had been commandeered by someone in charge of extending the defences at present. It was conceivable that it wasn’t in Lille at all but was being kept in Versailles as an example of how best to fortify a town. It might even be in the possession of Vauban’s nephew, an engineer in the French army travelling with Marshal Boufflers. Daniel searched on with growing desperation, ever more conscious of the heavy footsteps working their way along the corridor outside. Each door was unlocked so that the guards and the nightwatchman could look inside. Their voices were getting closer and closer. Evidently, one of the men was losing patience.

‘Are you sure you heard a noise?’ he demanded.

‘I heard it loud and clear,’ said the nightwatchman.

‘It could have been a dream. We know you sleep in here most of the night.’

‘That’s unfair. I never close my eyes. I patrol the building with great care. What I heard was the sound of a door bursting open.’

‘I think you farted in your sleep and that woke you up.’

They opened another door and Daniel could hear them clearly, stamping around inside. It was only a question of time before they reached him. Opening the last drawer, he scooped up everything in it and dropped it on the desk before going through it. There was no shortage of plans but they all related to buildings or churches. There was an edge of desperation in his search now. A glance was all he bestowed on each document before tossing it away. Daniel felt cheated. After risking death and capture, he’d hoped for more than details about the architecture of the town and the wills of some of its richest inhabitants. He was just about to give up when he flicked another document onto the floor and glanced at the next one. At first, he wasn’t quite sure what he was looking at. Then he saw a name that set his blood racing – Sébastien Vauban, Marshal of France. It was there after all.

Without even bothering to scrutinise the plan, he folded it up and stuffed it inside his shirt, blowing out his candle as he did so. Moving the chair from behind the door, he put his back to the timber and listened. The voices seemed to be directly outside.

‘We’re wasting our time,’ said one of the guards.

‘No,’ said the nightwatchman. ‘We must check every room.’

‘How could anyone have possibly got in?’

‘I don’t know but someone did. Perhaps he came in during the day and hid in here. Perhaps he climbed in through a window.’

The guard was contemptuous. ‘There are bars on all the windows except those in the attic. Only an imbecile would try to clamber up onto the roof. I think you made a mistake.’

Daniel heard a key being put in the lock and saw a glimmer of light from a lantern peeping under the door. He braced himself for action, taking out his dagger in readiness and hoping that the element of surprise would aid his escape. His body was tense, his nerves tingling. A second away from discovery, he crouched in the darkness and steeled himself. Now that he’d found it, he wasn’t going to yield up Vauban’s plan without a fight.

But nobody came in. Instead the three men were distracted.

‘I can smell something,’ said the nightwatchman.

‘You must have farted again,’ said one of the guards, laughing.

‘It’s smoke, I tell you. Take a deep sniff.’

‘He’s right,’ said the other guard. ‘Something’s on fire.’

‘It must be coming from further down the corridor,’ decided the nightwatchman. ‘Hold up that lantern. We don’t want the place to burn down around our ears.’

They rushed off until they came to the room where the fire had been started. When they saw smoke issuing from under the door, they flung it open and went in. The chair was alight now and the fire was spreading. They cried out in panic. Daniel didn’t wait to see how they’d cope with the emergency. As soon as he heard them dash off, he opened the door, waited until the coast was clear, then fled down the stairs, holding the banister all the way to make sure he didn’t miss his footing in the dark. Candles were alight in the entrance hall so he was able to sprint across it and let himself out into the night. The guards who would have stopped him were too busy trying to put out the fire upstairs. Daniel went round to the rear of the building and saw Raymond craning his neck to look upwards. Creeping up behind him, Daniel tapped him on the shoulder.

‘Time to leave,’ he said. ‘I came back the easy way.’

Raymond gulped. ‘You made me jump,’ he admitted, hand on his heart. He pointed to a window in the town hall. Flames were dancing in it. ‘Did you know that there’s a fire up there, Monsieur?’

‘Is there?’ said Daniel, feigning surprise. ‘People should be more careful with their candles.’

The man with the close-set eyes had been there day after day without success. Everyone in the regiment knew who Captain Daniel Rawson was but nobody could tell him where he could be found. When he saw another officer strolling near the edge of the camp, he sidled over to him and spoke with a guttural accent.

‘Good afternoon, Lieutenant,’ he said, politely.

‘How did you recognise my rank?’ asked Jonathan Ainley. ‘Most civilians can’t tell the difference between one uniform and another.’

‘I once served in the Hessian army, sir.’

‘Ah, I see.’

‘If I wasn’t so old, I’d still be bearing arms now.’

‘We all have to retire some day. Even our esteemed captain-general will leave the army in due course, though I suspect that he has a few years left in him yet.’

‘Soldiers mature with age,’ said the man with an ingratiating smile. ‘Look at Marshal Boufflers. He must be in his sixties yet the French still think he’s the best man to send to Lille.’

‘You seem well-informed, my friend.’

‘I like to know what’s going on.’

As they chatted casually, Ainley was weighing the man up and was careful to give no information about the role that his regiment was playing. Though the fellow had an unprepossessing appearance, he had an engaging manner and slowly won Ainley’s confidence. The man chose his moment to broach the topic that had brought him there.

‘You belong to a fine regiment, Lieutenant,’ he said.

‘I like to think so.’

‘Even someone like me knows about the 24
^th
Foot.’

‘All our infantry regiments have high standards.’

‘But this is the only one that has such an outstanding officer.’

Ainley laughed self-effacingly. ‘You flatter me, my friend.’

‘Oh, I wasn’t talking about you, sir,’ said the man, touching his arm. ‘The person I had in mind was Captain Rawson.’

‘You’ve
heard
of him?’

‘His fame is widespread.’

‘Then it’s deservedly so,’ said Ainley with enthusiasm. ‘He’s truly earned his renown. Daniel – Captain Rawson – is the very epitome of gallantry. I’m proud to be a fellow officer of his.’

‘You’re not the only one, sir. I was in a tavern some days ago when officers from this regiment came in. I heard the name of Captain Rawson spoken with reverence.’

‘That’s as it should be.’

‘I hope to get a sighting of him one day. If the reports of his escapades are true, we’ve nobody like him in the Hessian army.’

Ainley laughed again. ‘Nor in any other army, I fancy. I’d go so far as to say that Captain Rawson is unique. I can tell you one thing: I’m grateful that he belongs to us. I’d hate to fight against a soldier of that calibre.’

‘So would I, Lieutenant.’

‘One can learn so much from watching a man like that.’

‘When will he be returning to camp?’

‘How did you know he’d left it?’ asked Ainley with suspicion.

‘I overheard one of the officers say so in the tavern.’

Ainley’s tone sharpened. ‘Is that why you were hanging around in there – to listen to the gossip?’

‘No, no,’ said the man, annoyed with himself for having aroused distrust. ‘I was there to visit an old friend of mine who’s the landlord there.’ The lie tripped easily off his tongue. ‘It was difficult
not
to hear mention of Captain Rawson. But I can see that I’ve offended you in some way,’ he went on, obsequiously, ‘and I didn’t mean to do that, sir. I thank you for sparing the time to talk to me and will bid you farewell.’

‘I’m not offended,’ said Ainley, soothed by what he thought was a genuine apology. ‘And there’s no reason why you shouldn’t hear the name of Captain Rawson on people’s tongues. He’s off on his latest adventure at the moment and I’m already missing him. Not to worry,’ he added. ‘The captain is certain to be back in a day or two.’

The man nodded in gratitude. He had what he wanted.

* * *

‘Why do we have to leave?’ protested Rachel. ‘I like it here.’

‘You
like
being in an enemy stronghold?’

‘I feel at home in the
Coq d’Or.
Both of my husbands talked about leaving the army and running an inn. Neither of them lived to do that, alas, but the idea always appealed to me. I think that I’d make a good landlady.’

‘There’s no doubting that,’ said Daniel. ‘You’ve served behind the bar every day since we’ve been here and the customers love you. Madame Lizier has been delighted to have your help.’

‘I’ve never had so many drinks bought for me before.’

They were in their room at the tavern. Rachel had taken to life as a barmaid. Gregarious by nature, she revelled in the hustle and bustle of the
Coq d’Or.
Given the choice, customers all preferred to be served by her rather than by anyone else. She had only one complaint. While she enjoyed being Daniel’s wife by day, she wished that their marriage could have continued throughout the night. To a woman as sensual as Rachel Rees, sleeping alone while a highly desirable man slumbered on the floor beside her bed was more than frustrating. It was almost agonising. But she abided by their verbal contract and made no attempt to seduce him away from it.

‘It’s far too dangerous to stay,’ Daniel explained.

‘I don’t feel under threat in any way.’

‘That’s because you haven’t been out yet. The streets are full of soldiers. There was an incident at the town hall last night and security has been tightened as a result.’

She turned a roguish eye on him. ‘I don’t suppose that Alain Borrel had anything to do with the incident, did he?’

Daniel was stone-faced. ‘I really don’t know what you mean.’

‘Why did you borrow that rope from Madame Lizier? And where did you and Raymond go in the middle of the night?’

‘We went in search of wild horses.’

‘There are no wild horses in a town.’

‘That’s why we came back empty-handed.’

Rachel cackled. ‘You give nothing away, do you?’

‘Silence is golden,’ he said, a finger to his lips. ‘Now gather up your things and we’ll take our leave.’

‘Can’t we stay just one more night?’ she begged.

‘What if Sergeant Furneaux comes looking for you after dark? And if it isn’t him, it will be some other over-amorous Frenchman. I’ve seen the way they look at you, Rachel. Do you really want to give yourself to an enemy soldier?’

‘That would be a terrible betrayal of our army,’ she said, vehemently. ‘I’d never do such a thing. If any of them tried to climb into my bed with nothing on, I’d cut off his
Coq d’Or.
’

When they’d packed everything up, they went to see their friends. Bette Lizier was sad to see them go but she recognised that it would be foolish for them to stay any longer. With the garrison swelled by the arrival of fresh troops, work on the defences had been sped up. It would soon be difficult to get in and out of the town. Raymond was patently upset by their sudden departure, astounded by Daniel’s daredevil antics the previous night and hoping to emulate him one day. He embraced Daniel with tears in his eyes.

It was Estelle who caused the real surprise. During their stay there, she’d been a quiet, undemonstrative barmaid who fulfilled her duties with great efficiency. While she might lack Rachel’s outgoing nature, she was no shrinking violet, coping well with boisterous customers and bringing a dry humour to any badinage. When she was not at work, Daniel had noticed, she seemed a rather lonely person. Yet here she was, squeezing his hands as he kissed her on the cheeks and shooting him a strange look.

‘I hope that Guillaume is soon released,’ he observed.

‘It can only be a matter of time,’ said Bette Lizier.

‘Thank him for his excellent advice.’

Rachel was curious. ‘What advice was that?’

‘Nothing that need concern you,’ said Daniel.