4 Under Siege (17 page)

‘These are our two targets,’ said Eugene, tapping it with his finger. ‘We’ll attack the gates of Magdalen and St Andrew. As you can see, there are solid hornworks close by but I still feel that we can batter a way through.’

‘How long do you estimate it will take?’ asked Marlborough.

Eugene laughed mirthlessly. ‘Only a fool would even try to answer that question, Your Grace,’ he admitted. ‘It will certainly take many weeks to bring Lille to its knees. It may even be a matter of months. Marshal Boufflers will hold out to the bitter end.’

‘The conditions are hardly propitious. This sweltering heat is no help to us. Digging the peripheral lines of circumvallation must be like working in the seventh circle of hell. Then there’s the problem of the marshes. Insects breed like mad in this weather,’ noted Marlborough. ‘We’ll have men collapsing from disease before long.’

‘That can’t be helped, Your Grace.’

‘Alas, no – we must press on.’

‘What will decide the issue is the maintenance of supplies.’

‘That’s always the case with a siege,’ said Marlborough. ‘The first convoy reached us without undue hindrance but we can’t rely on the French to let the next one slip past them unobserved. It’s a much bigger siege train than the other one.’ He turned to his secretary. ‘Remind us what it contains, Adam.’

Cardonnel knew the details by heart. ‘It has eighty siege pieces, each requiring twenty horses to haul it and twenty siege mortars that will each need almost as many horses. There’ll be no less than thirty thousand munition waggons, pulled by four horses apiece. All in all,’ he concluded, ‘it will stretch for several miles.’

‘It will make a very tempting target,’ said Eugene.

‘That’s why you must guard it every inch of the way, Your Highness,’ said Marlborough. ‘There are reports that Burgundy is moving forward from Bruges towards Alost with thirty thousand men. We must hope that he doesn’t try to intercept the convoy.’

‘If he does, we’ll fight him off.’

Marlborough was anxious. ‘At all events, the cannon must be saved,’ he insisted. ‘Lose that and we are toothless.’ His brittle smile hid his concern. ‘But I have every faith in our ability to bring the convoy here without any substantial damage to it. Once our artillery is in place, we can bombard Lille with full force.’

Eugene’s eyes gleamed in anticipation. ‘I look forward to that.’

‘We can also turn our attention to
their
supplies,’ said Marlborough. ‘If the siege lasts for any length of time – as it assuredly will – they’ll begin to run out of food and ammunition. We must ensure that none gets through to them from outside. That’s our strategy, gentlemen,’ he said, indicating the plan.

‘We put a ring of steel around Lille,’ declared Eugene.

‘Exactly.’

‘Nobody will be allowed to get out.’

‘And, by the same token,’ emphasised Marlborough, glancing around the faces, ‘nobody must be able to get in. Cut off his supplies and even Boufflers will think twice about holding out indefinitely.’

While the rescue of Rachel Rees took priority, there was still a tavern to run. Bette Lizier and Estelle were thus kept busy serving drinks and providing food. It was only towards the end of the afternoon that there was a sufficient lull for them to be able to take a break. After handing over to the two hired members of staff, they adjourned to the kitchen. Henry Welbeck and Raymond were already there, disputing the best way to escape from Lille. Shortly after the women arrived, Daniel returned from his scouting expedition.

‘What took you so long?’ asked Welbeck, peevishly.

‘I had a lot to do.’

‘So did we – Raymond and I rode over every inch of Lille.’

‘I’ll be interested to hear your findings,’ said Daniel. ‘First, however, I must tell you my news. I’ve established exactly where Rachel is being held.’

‘Do you have a plan?’ asked Raymond, excitedly. ‘Can you climb in through the roof again, Alain?’

‘Not this time, I fear.’

‘Then how will you break into the gaol?’

Daniel shrugged. ‘I don’t think that it can be done.’

‘We can’t leave Rachel there,’ wailed Estelle. ‘It’s a terrible place. You ask my sister. She’s seen what it’s like inside.’

‘It’s really dreadful,’ Bette confirmed. ‘The gaol is filthy and the stench is disgusting. Guillaume’s cell was foul. But that’s not what worries me. When he first went there, they tried to beat the truth out of him. He told them nothing. What if they torture Rachel?’

‘She’s a woman,’ said Raymond, ‘surely, she’d be spared.’

‘That’s not what Guillaume told me. He heard the cries of men being beaten but he also heard screams from women. If they think Rachel can tell them something, they won’t hold back.’

‘That means she may give them
our
names,’ said Raymond.

Estelle blanched. ‘We could all finish up in gaol.’

‘Don’t desert her, Alain. She must be rescued.’

‘Calm down,’ said Daniel. ‘I’m not going to desert her at all. And I agree that we must try to get her out of there before she comes to any harm.’

‘Hold on,’ suggested Welbeck. ‘A moment ago, you told us that it was impossible to break into the gaol.’

‘That’s true.’

‘Then there’s nothing at all that you can do.’

‘I think that there is.’

‘You’re talking in riddles,’ complained Raymond. ‘If you can’t break in there, how can you possibly help Rachel?’

‘I’ll do so from the inside,’ said Daniel, cheerfully. ‘Since I can’t break
into
the gaol, I’ll do my best to break
out
of it. All I have to do is to get myself arrested and I’ll be thrown in there straight away. That’s when I can put my plan into action.’

Welbeck was agog. ‘You’ll be taking the most terrible risk.’

‘That’s what husbands do for their wives.’

Raymond Lizier was thrilled to be involved. Having seen vivid proof of Daniel’s bravery at first hand, he had no doubt that the man he thought of as Alain Borrel would succeed once again with an audacious plan. Raymond had only one reservation.

‘If you can rescue
one
person from gaol, Alain,’ he said, ‘then you should be able to bring out two at the same time.’

‘You’re thinking of your father,’ guessed Daniel.

‘We’d dearly love to get him out of there.’

‘I’m sure that you would, Raymond. He’s patently suffering in gaol but his is a very different case.’

‘I don’t see why. He and Rachel face the same charge.’

‘Look ahead for a moment,’ advised Daniel. ‘If we manage to rescue Rachel, then we’ll disappear from Lille as soon as we can. There’ll be no trace of us. That’s not what would happen to your father. If he escaped, he’d go straight back to the
Coq d’Or
and that would be the first place they’d search for him.’

‘We’d hide him,’ asserted Raymond.

‘How long could you do that?’

‘For as long as we needed.’

‘That might mean for ever,’ said Welbeck. ‘You’d spend your whole lives looking over your shoulder. And there’s another thing to consider. If your father tries to escape, it will be seen as a proof of guilt. He’d never be able to show his face in Lille again.’

‘Henri is right,’ said Daniel. ‘This tavern is your home and your livelihood. You can’t just abandon it and flee over the wall. I’m sure that your father will be released in time. If they had proper evidence against him,’ he pointed out, ‘then he’d have been sent to trial weeks ago. That hasn’t happened.’

‘What if Lille is captured by the Allies?’

‘That might make a difference, I agree. But the siege could go on for months and your father would be on the run as long as it lasted. I’m sorry, Raymond,’ he continued, a hand on his arm, ‘the truth of the matter is that I’m hoping to reach Rachel when your father won’t even
be
in the gaol. He’ll have been marched off to work with the other prisoners.’

Though he was visibly disappointed, Raymond accepted that his father would have to wait to be released. He missed him badly. It placed a greater responsibility on him. As the only man in the house, he had to take on additional duties. He consoled himself with the thought that his father would be very proud of the way that his son was helping two soldiers from the British army. Raymond had no qualms about what he had to do. He drew strength from the long experience of his two companions. With such men at his side, he felt capable of anything.

‘When do we go, Alain?’ he asked.

‘Not for an hour at least,’ replied Daniel. ‘We must let night draw in first.’

‘Yes,’ said Welbeck, ‘the darker it is, the better.’

The three of them were in the tavern that Daniel had visited earlier. Seated in the window, they could keep an eye on the gaol. Having rehearsed their roles many times, they were confident that they could give a convincing performance. Welbeck sipped his drink and voiced a lingering doubt.

‘What if you can’t get out of there?’ he wondered.

‘I’ll manage it somehow,’ said Daniel.

‘They might put you in chains. Have you thought of that?’

‘I won’t be fettered for my crime, Henri. They must lock up drunks like me all the time – except that I’ll be quite sober, of course. My guess is that they’ll simply throw me into a cell to sleep off my stupor. In due course, I’d have to pay a fine.’

‘Do you have enough money?’

‘I won’t need it. I’ll be long gone by then.’

‘What if Rachel is in no condition to travel?’

‘Nothing will stop her getting out of there,’ said Daniel, ‘even if she has to crawl out. Rachel is indomitable.’

‘That’s not the word
I’d
use,’ murmured Welbeck.

They stayed in the window for another hour, searching the sky like three astronomers as the last specks of light were wiped out of it. At length, Daniel slapped his thigh.

‘Time to go, my friends,’ he said. ‘You know what to do.’

Raymond was first on his feet. ‘I can’t wait.’

‘There’s no rush,’ cautioned Welbeck, getting up slowly. He shook Daniel’s hand. ‘Good luck!’

‘Do you have a message for Rachel?’ teased Daniel.

By way of reply, he got a hostile glare. Welbeck and Raymond left the tavern first. Daniel gave them plenty of time to get into position before he went out after them. The night was dark and a capricious breeze was blowing rubbish along the ground. Dogs were sniffing in corners. There were several people walking past but Daniel was only interested in two of them. As soon as he got within sight of the guards outside the gaol, his leisurely gait became a drunken roll. Holding a flagon of wine in one hand, he took a long swig from it, then pretended to lose his footing and tumble to the ground. He got up with difficulty and staggered on, singing a French song hopelessly out of tune.

When two people came towards him, he grabbed one of them by the collar and demanded money. Welbeck tried to push him away but Daniel clung on, cursing him for his meanness. It was left to Raymond to pull Daniel away so that he and Welbeck could continue on past the gaol. Barely managing to keep his balance, Daniel yelled abuse after them, then appeared to take another swig from his flagon. He wobbled uncertainly in the direction of the guards.

‘Would anyone like a drink?’ he asked, slurring his words.

As he reached out to offer it, he deliberately dropped the flagon and it smashed on the cobbles, sending the remains of the wine over the boots of the two men.

‘You idiot!’ yelled one of the guards, punching him in the chest. Daniel rocked back on his heels. ‘Look what you’ve done.’

‘Don’t you touch me,’ gabbled Daniel, raising his fists.

‘You’re drunk. Get home to your wife.’

‘I want an apology first. I’ll knock it out of you.’

Lunging towards the guard, he took a wild swing at him but only managed to dislodge his hat. When the man grabbed him, Daniel kicked him on the shin and rid himself of a torrent of expletives. It was too much for the guard. He slapped Daniel’s face, then used the butt of his musket to hit him in the stomach. Doubling up in pain, Daniel fell to the ground and moaned. His attacker took him by the scruff of the neck.

‘Let’s get him inside before he spews all over us,’ he said.

The two of them picked Daniel up and carried him off.

Rachel Rees had not been looking forward to another night in the company of Pons, the turnkey with the lecherous eyes. When he came on duty, she was the first prisoner he visited and he leered at her through the bars. Eventually, he went off on his rounds and Rachel was left alone to reflect that she would actually live to see another day. She’d spent most of the previous one, twitching nervously at the sound of each footstep, fearing that Captain Aumonier had returned to question her again. The sight of Daniel Rawson in the street outside had raised her morale at first but she couldn’t believe that he’d reach her soon enough to rescue her. Time was rapidly running out.

When Pons returned, he leant against the bars and used the back of his hand to wipe away the moisture on his lips. His sly grin exposed a row of ugly, black teeth. The stink of his breath made her turn her head away.

‘Would you like some company, Madame?’ he asked.

‘No, I wouldn’t,’ she said, forcefully.

‘I could make your stay in here a lot easier.’

‘You could only do that by going away.’

He guffawed. ‘I like a woman with spirit.’

‘Leave me alone.’

‘You’re a prisoner,’ he reminded her, tone hardening. ‘That means
I
give the orders. You have no rights at all, Madame Borrel. I can do whatever I like with you.’

‘If you touch me,’ she warned, ‘I’ll scream the place down.’

‘That would be very silly of you. If any of the other guards came running, they’d want a turn as well. Now we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?’ He bared his teeth again. ‘You’re all
mine.
’ He put a hand through the bars. ‘What about a first kiss?’

She stepped out of reach. ‘Keep away from me.’

‘You’re not helping yourself,’ he said, softly. ‘I can bring you proper food and good wine. All you have to do is to be nice to me. Is that too much to ask?’

He unhooked the ring of keys that dangled from his belt and selected one of them. Watching it being inserted into the lock, Rachel was horrified. She felt like a caged animal. As the key was turned, she flattened herself against the wall. The door swung open and Pons gave a triumphant grin. It froze immediately as Rachel was given an unexpected reprieve.

‘Pons!’ shouted a voice in the distance. ‘Where are you?’

Stamping his foot in exasperation, Pons locked the door of the cell again and attached the keys to his belt. He looked Rachel up and down once again, then chuckled.

‘I’ll wait until dawn,’ he decided, ‘when the other prisoners go off to work. We’ll be all alone then – just you and me. Scream as much as you like. Nobody will come to save you. Besides,’ he said, ogling her, ‘I’ve got something much better for your tongue to do than scream.’

‘Pons!’ called the voice, angrily.

‘I’ll have to go, my darling. Think of me until I come back.’

Rachel could think of nothing else. As the turnkey went out, she slumped to the wooden board and brought both hands to her face. Pons had her at his mercy. A grotesque image of what was in store for her came into her mind and it made her shudder. The man was a monster. He’d take her by force. Rachel even found herself wishing that she’d been executed instead. Instant death in front of a firing squad would be preferable to the protracted ordeal that lay ahead. Her hands began to shake uncontrollably and her stomach churned. Glancing through the window, she wondered how long it would be before dawn broke through the smothering blackness of night.

She’d forgotten all about her glimpse of Daniel Rawson. The man in the street had been a phantom. The turnkey, on the other hand, was real. Pons would be back to claim his prize.

Bruised and aching, Daniel sat with his back to the wall of the cell. The turnkey who’d taken charge of him hadn’t stood on ceremony. He’d simply unlocked the door and dumped the prisoner inside. The stench of stale urine and vomit was so powerful that Daniel kept a hand over his nose and mouth. Though he’d taken some punishment, he’d achieved his objective. He was inside the gaol. Because he was viewed as a harmless drunk, the search had been perfunctory. Only the few coins in his pocket had been confiscated. The various items that he’d carefully concealed under his clothing hadn’t been discovered.

Henry Welbeck and Raymond Lizier had helped him to get into the gaol but their work wasn’t finished. Daniel hoped that they’d be waiting outside when he and Rachel emerged. For that to happen, everything must go to plan. There was no chance of sleep. Heavy feet pounded up and down the corridor all night and doors clanged. A fight broke out in a nearby cell and he heard raised voices. Turnkeys made no attempt to intervene. The hours passed by with painful slowness. One eye on the window, he wondered how Rachel was coping with imprisonment and hoped that she’d not been mistreated in any way. Daniel blamed himself for her dilemma. Had he not persuaded her to come to Lille in the first place, she’d be free, sleeping in the British camp before rising next morning to ply her trade. Yet his rescue attempt had not only been prompted by guilt. He was fond of Rachel Rees, admiring her tenacity in overcoming the setbacks in her life. Daniel wanted to hear that throaty cackle again and see that broad smile. Most of all, he wanted to watch her reaction to Henry Welbeck when she realised that he’d been involved in her rescue.

When the first gesture of dawn finally arrived, the gaol suddenly exploded with noise. Voices yelled, doors opened, feet marched and dozens of prisoners were driven past his cell. He peered out, trying to decide which of them might be Guillaume Lizier and wishing that he could pass him a message from his wife. The pandemonium lasted a long time before it gradually faded away into a cold silence. A sense of alarm brought Daniel to his feet. Held behind bars, he was helpless. He had no control over his own fate. That had passed to someone else and it made him feel uneasy. All that he could do was to watch, wait and pray that nothing went wrong. Daniel had found a way into the gaol. His deliverer now had to do the same thing.

‘You’re too late,’ said the guard. ‘The prisoners have all left.’

‘My husband isn’t one of them,’ she said. ‘He was arrested for being drunk and is probably lying in there with a terrible headache. A friend of mine saw him having a fight with someone. I’m so sorry if it was you, Monsieur.’

‘It was,’ he grunted.

‘Alain is not a violent man. It’s only when he has too much to drink that he’s aggressive. It preys on his mind, you see.’ She bit her lip and tears welled up in her eyes. ‘We lost our eldest son at the battle of Oudenarde. I told Alain that we should be proud that he died fighting for France but all that my husband can do is to try to block it out of his mind by getting drunk. He’s been in gaol before so I know how awful the food is in there.’ She held up her basket. ‘That’s why I’ve brought a few things for him.’

Estelle spoke with great feeling. In referring to Daniel as her husband, she was indulging in a fantasy she’d nursed during his stay at the tavern. To win the sympathy of the guards, he’d told her to invent a son who’d died in the recent battle. The two men hesitated, unsure whether to admit her or send her on her way. Estelle put her hand into the basket.

‘If you’ve been out here all night,’ she said, offering them a pie, ‘you must be very hungry. Why don’t you share this between you?’

‘Thank you, Madame,’ said one of them, taking the pie and having a first bite of it. He nodded. ‘It’s very tasty.’ Chewing happily, he passed it to his company. ‘You try it.’