4 Under Siege (3 page)

‘She warns you that the palace is far from complete but thinks you’ll find it interesting.’

‘Then I must accept the invitation,’ he decided, ‘as long as it’s extended to you as well.’

‘Oh, yes,’ said Amalia, reading on. ‘I’m mentioned by name.’

‘Let me see.’

Taking it from her for the second time, Janssen perused it with care. Amalia, meanwhile, was many days ahead of him, boarding a ship, sailing across the North Sea, setting foot in England and being driven to Oxfordshire to view the magnificent edifice awarded to the Duke of Marlborough in commemoration of his victory at the battle of Blenheim. She was enraptured. Doubts then began to creep in.

‘What will I wear?’ she asked with sudden anxiety. ‘I’ve nothing suitable in my wardrobe. And how do I behave in front of a duchess? I’ll make all sorts of terrible mistakes and say all the wrong things. I’m so afraid that I’ll let you down, Father.’

‘You could never do that, Amalia.’

‘I’m trembling with nerves already.’

‘That will soon pass. We’ve been invited to see the progress made on the palace, not summoned there so that the duchess can criticise your apparel and click her tongue at your manners. Besides,’ he went on, ‘you’ve met her husband a number of times and the duke has always been very gracious to you.’

‘His wife may be much more censorious,’ she said with concern. ‘Daniel has told me a little about her. She’s a determined lady with a mind of her own and she doesn’t suffer fools gladly.’

He chuckled. ‘Since when have you been a fool?’

‘The duchess is so close to Her Majesty, the Queen, that they are virtually sisters. Do you see what I mean, Father? It’s so daunting. When we get to England, our hostess will be a person who rubs shoulders with royalty.’

‘There’s nothing remarkable in that,’ he riposted with a twinkle in his eye. ‘I, too, have consorted with royalty. I lost count of the number of times I saw the king when I was at Versailles. He often spared me a few words – until he learnt that I was not simply there to weave a tapestry for him. We have that consolation,’ he added with a laugh. ‘Whatever happens, the duchess will not have us thrown into prison.’ He put a comforting arm around her. ‘Put away all fear, Amalia. You have nothing to be worried about. The duchess will find you as charming and lovely as everyone else does.’

She was uncertain. ‘Do you think so, Father?’

He gave a shrug. ‘If it causes you such distress, I can see that I’ll have to go to England myself.’

‘No, no,’ she cried, ‘I won’t be left behind. Give me the letter so that I can read it again.’ She snatched it from him. ‘It’s marvellous news. I can’t wait to tell Daniel about it when I next write to him.’

Though he was now attached to Marlborough’s staff, Daniel always made time whenever he could to visit his own regiment and see his friends. Chief among them was Sergeant Henry Welbeck, a man who’d known him since the time when Daniel himself had served in the ranks. Lacking the money to purchase a commission, Daniel owed his promotion to repeated acts of heroism in the face of enemy fire. His advancement had thus been strictly on merit. Nothing would induce Welbeck to join the officer class. In his view, they were an odious breed. He retained a barely concealed contempt for those above him, having seen too many of his men killed because of foolish decisions taken in battle by people with no business to be in command. Daniel was the only officer who’d earned his respect and affection.

They met outside Welbeck’s tent.

‘What news, Dan?’ asked Welbeck, puffing on his pipe.

‘We are to lay siege to Lille.’

‘Even I’d worked that out.’

‘What you don’t yet know,’ said Daniel, ‘is that Prince Eugene will be in command with fifty battalions and ninety squadrons, mostly of Dutch and imperial troops.’

‘Go on.’

‘They are to be supported by a brigade of five British regiments, one of which will be our own dear 24
^th
.’

Welbeck’s nose wrinkled with displeasure. ‘So we’ll be taking orders from a foreigner, will we?’

‘Prince Eugene is a gallant soldier.’

‘He’s far too gallant, in my opinion,’ said Welbeck. ‘He likes to lead his men into battle and expose himself to unnecessary danger. I’d rather serve under a man like the duke who’s sensible enough to conduct affairs from a position of relative safety.’

‘His Grace doesn’t always hold back,’ Daniel reminded him. ‘I was there when he led a charge at Ramillies.’

‘It’s just as well you
were
there, Dan. My spies tell me that our beloved captain-general was thrown from his horse. If you hadn’t been on hand to rescue him, the Grand Alliance would now be under the control of some stupid, half-blind, weak-willed Dutch general with no idea of military strategy.’ He bared his teeth in a hostile grin. ‘The only thing the Dutch ever do with enthusiasm is to turn tail.’

Smiling tolerantly, Daniel refused to rise to the bait. Welbeck was a stocky man of middle height, with an ugly face given a sinister aspect by the long scar down one cheek. The sergeant’s body, as his friend knew, bore even more livid reminders of a soldier’s life. In the course of various skirmishes and battles, Welbeck had been shot, stabbed by a bayonet and slashed in several places by a sabre. He bore his injuries without complaint.

‘So,’ he said, eyeing Daniel up and down, ‘while I’m undertaking the siege of Lille with the rest of the regiment, what will Captain Rawson be doing?’

‘I’m awaiting orders from on high.’

Welbeck looked up at the sky. ‘I didn’t realise that you were in touch with the Almighty. You’ll be telling me next that you hear voices – just like Joan of Arc.’

‘The only difference is that she heard them in French,’ said Daniel with a laugh. ‘No, Henry, my orders come from closer to the earth. His Grace always dreams up something interesting for me.’

‘When is he going to dream up a peace treaty?’

‘When – and only when – we’ve finally won this war.’

Before he could reply, Welbeck noticed someone coming towards them. Daniel recognised the newcomer at once. It was Rachel Rees, riding a horse and pulling her donkey behind her on a lead rein. She wore the same rough clothing as before but now sported a wide-brimmed hat with feathers stuck in it. When she waved familiarly at them, Welbeck was unwelcoming.

‘What, in the sacred name of Satan, have we got here?’

‘She’s a lady I met on my travels,’ said Daniel.

‘Then you must travel to some strange places, Dan. Look at her, will you? She didn’t get that fat on army food, and what is the woman wearing? I’ve seen better dressed beggars.’

‘Her name is Rachel Rees and she’s Welsh.’

‘That’s even worse!’ snorted Welbeck, pulling his pipe from his mouth and tapping it on the sole of his boot to dislodge the tobacco. ‘I know we’re desperate for recruits, but we’re surely not taking on roly-poly ragamuffins like her.’

‘Keep your voice down, Henry, and show her some respect.’

‘Respect? How can anyone respect a vagabond?’

‘Rachel is no vagabond, as you’ll find out.’

When she finally reached them, she hopped off the horse and exchanged greetings with Daniel before smiling at Welbeck.

‘This is Sergeant Welbeck,’ introduced Daniel, ‘and I’d better warn you that he’s a confirmed misogynist.’

She was baffled. ‘What on earth is that?’

‘I don’t like women,’ said Welbeck, bluntly.

‘That’s only because you haven’t met the right one yet,’ said Rachel, cheerfully. ‘Will Baggott was the same. He was my first husband and a more defiant woman-hater you couldn’t wish to meet. Then I came into his life and his eyes were suddenly opened.’ She gave a throaty cackle. ‘He made up for lost time. Will was a corporal in the Grenadiers until he was killed in action.’

‘Did you manage to sell the horses?’ asked Daniel.

‘Yes, Captain Rawson, and I got a fair price for both of them.’

Welbeck frowned. ‘What’s this about selling horses?’

‘I should explain,’ said Daniel. ‘Rachel and I met when she was having an argument with a Hessian cavalry officer who’d promised to buy a horse from her. He decided to steal it instead.’

‘He tried to steal more than the horse,’ she recalled with a grimace. ‘If the captain hadn’t arrived in time, I’d have been violated. Instead of that, I finished up owning the fellow’s horse as well.’

‘It was his own fault, Rachel. The long walk back to his regiment would have taught him to behave more honourably in future.’

‘He’s probably still nursing his wounds.’ She turned to Welbeck. ‘The captain beat him soundly, then knocked him senseless. He had to stop me from kicking the scoundrel’s head in. Anyway,’ she continued, putting a hand under the folds of her dress, ‘I came to show you my appreciation by bringing you a gift.’ She pulled out a dagger. ‘This is for you, Captain Rawson.’

The two men were astounded. The dagger had an ornate handle and there were tiny jewels set into the leather sheath. When she drew out the long, razor-sharp blade, it glinted in the sun. Welbeck struck an accusatory note.

‘Where did you steal that from?’ he demanded.

‘I took it from the French major who tried to stab me with it,’ she told him. ‘It was after the battle of Ramillies. He was lying on the ground near to death and decided to take me with him. I’d already lost my second husband that day so I was throbbing with anger. I took the dagger from his hand and used it to finish him off.’ She smiled grimly. ‘That Frenchie had no use for the weapon so I kept it.’

‘That’s not stealing,’ said Daniel. ‘It’s serendipity.’

‘It sounds like thieving to me,’ asserted Welbeck.

‘And how many things have you picked up on a battlefield?’ she challenged. ‘If you’d seen a dagger like this, would you have left it lying there for someone else to claim? No, Sergeant Welbeck, you wouldn’t. In the wake of a battle, all of you grab whatever souvenirs you can. That’s what Ned Granger did – he was my second husband – and he built up quite a collection. Ned was a sergeant as well. He served in the 16th Regiment of Foot.’ Sheathing the dagger, she offered it to Daniel. ‘Please accept this small token of my undying gratitude.’

‘Thank you, Rachel,’ said Daniel, taking the weapon and examining it. ‘It’s a fine piece of work and I’ll treasure it.’

‘I’d rather you used it to kill more Frenchies. And don’t forget what I said,’ she added, wagging a finger. ‘Whenever you need any help, call on Rachel Rees.’ Her eyes flitted to Welbeck. ‘The same goes for you, Sergeant. It’s clear to me that you’re more in need of help than the captain.’

Welbeck bristled. ‘Why should I need help?’

‘Someone has to change your warped view of women.’

‘I don’t like them, that’s all.’

‘Does that mean you despised your mother?’

‘Well, no – of course not. She was different.’

‘What about your grandmother?’

‘What about her?’ asked Welbeck.

‘I can’t believe you hated her as well.’

‘She was family – it doesn’t count.’

‘Ah, I see,’ said Rachel, ‘you like all the women who belonged to your family and loathe the rest of us. What about religion? If you’re a Christian, it must mean you love the Virgin Mary, not to mention all those other good ladies in the Bible. The tally is mounting all the time, isn’t it? You don’t hate
all
women. There are quite a few you like.’

‘It’s a fair point, Henry,’ said Daniel, enjoying the exchange.

‘Do you know what I think?’ said Rachel.

‘No,’ retorted Welbeck, ‘and I don’t care.’

‘You’re hiding behind this so-called hatred. The only reason you pretend to detest women is that you’re afraid of us.’

Welbeck exploded. ‘I detest them because they always get in the way – just as you’re doing right now. Women are a distraction in the army. They turn men’s heads and make them lose concentration. They lie, they cosset, they badger, they deceive, they demand and they talk a man’s ear off. Afraid of women?’ said Welbeck with disgust. ‘The only thing that scares me is that their tongues never stop wagging.’

‘Oh, is that all?’ asked Rachel, shaking with mirth.

‘Keep away from me,’ he warned.

‘You talk just like Will Baggott, though his language was much coarser. It took me a long time to win him over but I managed it in the end.’ She moved in closer to scrutinise his face. ‘You even look a bit like old Will with that same nasty, unfriendly expression. You only ever see it on the faces of poor, cold-hearted men who’ve never been properly warmed through by a woman.’

Welbeck was pulsing with fury. ‘Can you see now why I hate them so much, Dan?’ he said, rancorously. ‘They’re harridans – all of them. I’ll speak to you later when we’re able to get a word in.’ Turning on his heel, he plunged into his tent. ‘Goodbye.’

‘I think you frightened him off,’ said Daniel. ‘There are not many people who can make Henry take a backward step.’

‘I didn’t mean to do that, Captain Rawson. It’s just that he did remind me so of my first husband. The only difference is that the sergeant is much better looking than Will Baggott.’

Daniel gasped. ‘Henry is
better looking
?’

‘Oh, yes,’ she said. ‘Put a smile on him and he’d look almost handsome in an ugly sort of way. My instincts about men are never wrong. Yes,’ she went on, gazing pensively at the tent, ‘I might have offered my help to
you
, but Sergeant Welbeck is the one who really deserves it. He needs the magic of a woman’s touch in his life.’

Marshal James FitzJames, Duke of Berwick, arrived in the camp with his entourage and went straight to the quarters of its commander. He was dismayed to find the Duke of Vendôme reclining indolently on a couch with a glass of wine in his hand while attended by a handsome officer whose uniform was unbuttoned. Vendôme, who was as usual scruffily dressed, did not even rise to his feet to greet his visitor. His one concession to the newcomer was to dismiss his companion with a lordly wave of his hand. Buttoning up his uniform and putting down his glass, the man mumbled his apologies to Berwick and left swiftly. Berwick looked after him.

‘He’s rather young to be a captain,’ he observed.

‘Raoul Valeran is worthy of his promotion,’ said Vendôme, sitting up. ‘He’s proved himself on the battlefield and is a man on whom I can rely completely. But do sit down, Your Grace,’ he went on, indicating a chair. ‘May I offer you wine?’

Berwick was brusque. ‘No, thank you.’

‘Would you care for some other refreshment?’

‘I merely came to discuss military matters,’ said the other, lowering himself into a chair. ‘I expected to find you finalising your strategy, not entertaining a guest.’

‘Captain Valeran is a valued friend.’

Berwick understood what that meant. Now in his fifties, Vendôme was notorious for his sexual appetite and would often travel with his latest mistress in tow. When no woman was available, he would take equal pleasure in the company of a man. Evidently, Captain Valeran was his current favourite. Berwick wondered how the smart young officer could bear to get so close to a man whose filthy clothing, spattered with food and wine stains, gave off a noisome smell. Vendôme might be a veteran soldier but his personal habits were offensive to someone as neat and fastidious as Berwick.

‘Well,’ said Vendôme, lazily, ‘I can see that you’re upset about something. Speak your mind, I pray.’

‘Since I came to Flanders,’ declared Berwick, ‘I’ve been appalled at what I found. I first went post-haste to Tournai and gathered up thousands of stragglers from the battle. What they told me was difficult to believe.’

‘Do not lay it at my door,’ warned Vendôme. ‘Had I been in command at Oudenarde, it would not have ended in a rout. In a moment of misguided affection for his grandson, His Majesty saw fit to saddle me with the Duke of Burgundy, a man whose high opinion of himself is not matched by deeds of valour in the field.’

‘I served under him and thought him a competent general.’

‘One needs more than competence to defeat Marlborough.’

‘Yet we outnumbered his army and had choice of ground.’

‘Oh, the ground was well chosen, I’ll give the duke that. The problem was that he refused to leave it. While some of us fought hand-to-hand with the enemy, the king’s grandson observed it all from a distance as if watching from a box at the opera.’ Vendôme fiddled with his cravat. ‘It is both wrong and dangerous to appoint someone in command simply because he has royal blood in his veins. Oh,’ he said with a gesture of apology, ‘that was not meant as a jibe at you.’

Berwick nevertheless took it as such. He was very conscious of being the illegitimate son of the Duke of York, later to become King James II of England. His mother had been Arabella Churchill, sister to the very man against whom he was now fighting. He knew that he could expect no avuncular indulgence from the Duke of Marlborough on the battlefield nor would he, in turn, show a nephew’s respect for his esteemed relative. Educated in France, he was content to serve in its army and, though still in his early thirties, had risen to the coveted rank of marshal. He was annoyed to be reminded that he was born on the wrong side of the blanket.

‘Your achievements in Spain have added to an already sparkling reputation,’ said Vendôme, trying to mollify him.

‘Thank you,’ said Berwick, stiffly.

‘You secured a crucial victory at Almanza last year and followed it up by taking Lerida. I’ve heard it said that you saved the Bourbon dynasty in Spain.’

‘That’s an exaggeration.’

‘In effect, you kept King Philip on the throne there and deserve plaudits for that.’ His face was split by a wicked grin. ‘I’m tempted to say you need make no such effort to save another of the king’s grandsons but that would be too unkind. Now that his shortcomings have been exposed, the Duke of Burgundy may come to his senses.’

Berwick grew impatient. ‘I’m here to discuss your plans.’

‘My immediate plans involve presenting a true account of the battle of Oudenarde to King Louis. I’ve already sent some despatches but my version of events – as you will imagine – has been questioned by the duke. Clarification is sought in Versailles.’

‘You cannot waste time talking about a battle that’s over when more fighting is at hand,’ said Berwick, irritably. ‘When we first arrived, I’d hoped to pose a threat to the flank and rear of Marlborough’s army, but Prince Eugene reached Brussels with his troops and was able to provide cover. Their interest has now shifted to Lille.’

‘It must not be allowed to fall,’ said Vendôme, seriously. ‘That would be a real calamity.’

‘The Duke of Boufflers is to oversee its defence.’

‘But what sort of force can he muster? Our army is desperately short of men. We lack the numbers to cover every eventuality.’

‘Marlborough cannot take Lille without a siege train. Our main task must be to stop it reaching him.’

‘It will not be transported by water, that’s for certain. As long as we’re camped here, we control the rivers and canals. That means it will go by land. A siege train of the requisite size will be several miles long.’

‘That will stretch their resources to the limit,’ said Berwick. ‘Marlborough will not be able to protect it adequately. If we intercept it, we may stop it ever reaching its destination.’

‘If we intercept it,’ argued Vendôme, ‘we must do more than simply stop it. We must capture as many cannon as we can. Our artillery was gravely depleted at Oudenarde.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I leave you to guess whose fault that was. My ambition, I tell you now, is to make amends for the fatal errors made by the Duke of Burgundy.’

‘France looks to us for a victory. We are in sore need of one.’

‘I held Marlborough at bay in Flanders last year and you beat the Allied forces at Almanza. Between us, we have more than enough skill and experience to match the enemy.’

‘But not in a pitched battle, I fear,’ said Berwick.

‘There are other ways to win wars. I would dearly love to accept surrender from Marlborough,’ said Vendôme through gritted teeth, ‘and there’s another delight I’d seek. I’d like to ride back to Paris with the head of a certain Captain Daniel Rawson on a pole.’

Daniel handed over the dagger so that his friend could inspect it.

‘It’s magnificent!’ said Jonathan Ainley.

‘Apparently, it belonged to a French major.’

‘He must have been blessed with wealth. A weapon like this must have cost a high price. I envy you, Daniel.’

‘It was a present from an admirer.’

‘Then he must admire you a great deal.’

‘The admirer was a lady,’ said Daniel, ‘and she used the dagger to kill the man who owned it.’ Ainley gulped. ‘I make her sound more bloodthirsty than she really is. She found the major dying after the battle of Oudenarde and took exception to the fact that he tried to stab her.’ Taking the dagger back, he sheathed it. ‘His loss was my gain. However, I came here to cross swords with you, not to talk about daggers. Are you ready, Jonathan?’

‘Yes,’ said Ainley, ‘I’m ready for my ritual humiliation.’

The lieutenant was a tall, spindly, pallid man with a beaky nose that attracted all manner of unflattering nicknames. Known for his affability, he was an efficient and dedicated officer who sought to emulate Daniel Rawson, a man he’d elevated to the status of a god. Swordplay was a vital part of their armoury and they both sought to keep their skills in good repair. While he was an able fencer, Ainley lacked Daniel’s strength and flair. The longer any bout went on, the more decisively it swung in the captain’s favour. Drawing his sword, Ainley prepared himself for defeat.

‘You’re far too quick and dexterous for me, Daniel.’

‘The advantage may be yours this time.’

‘Why?’ asked Ainley with a hollow laugh. ‘Are you going to fight with that dagger instead?’

‘I’m not that foolhardy,’ said Daniel. ‘No, Jonathan, I’m going to hold the sword in my left hand.’

‘You’ll still be too good for me.’

‘It’s important to maintain my proficiency with both hands. If my right arm is wounded, I need to be able to defend myself.’

‘Then do so now,’ invited Ainley, brandishing his sword.

But the practice ended before it had even begun. A messenger arrived to summon Daniel to the
captain-general’s
quarters and the sword fight had to be abandoned. Daniel shrugged his shoulders.

‘I’m sorry about this, Jonathan,’ he said.

‘Don’t be – I’m sighing with relief.’

‘I’ll be back at the earliest opportunity.’

Ainley sheathed his sword. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’

As the lieutenant waved his friend off, Daniel followed the messenger on a twisting course through the ranks of tents until he came to Marlborough’s quarters. When they came into sight, he recalled what the Dutch dragoon had said about him on the ride through Flanders. Someone in command of a vast coalition force might be expected to maintain palatial quarters, but that was not the case with Marlborough. It was left to people like Prince Eugene to occupy stately accommodation that proclaimed their importance and set them apart from the soldiers they led. Daniel chose to believe that the relative simplicity of Marlborough’s quarters could be put down to the fact that he didn’t wish to distance himself from those around him. Indeed, he sought to keep in touch as much with the ranks as with his officers, frequently touring the camp and engaging in conversation with the humblest privates. It had earned him the affectionate name of ‘Corporal John’. Few commanders in any army were revered as much by their troops.

When he was admitted, Daniel found the captain-general talking to his secretary. Both gave him a cordial welcome. Offered a glass of wine, Daniel took it gratefully and sat down with the others.

‘We have work for you,’ said Marlborough.

‘I had a feeling that you might have, Your Grace.’

‘How much do you know about Lille?’

‘I know that it’s the best fortified town in French Flanders,’ said Daniel. ‘They call it Vauban’s masterpiece because he devised the most ingenious series of defences. He tried to make it invincible.’

‘No town is invincible if it is besieged correctly,’ said Cardonnel. ‘Look at the career of Richard the Lionheart.’

‘Yes,’ agreed Marlborough. ‘He was a master of siege warfare. They said that Taillebourg was impregnable yet it fell to him, as did other strongholds. Though it took all of two years, the siege of Acre in the Holy Land was another triumph.’

‘The strange paradox,’ Daniel pointed out, ‘is that a king who excelled in siege tactics should himself die during one. He expired from a crossbow wound while besieging a castle near Limoges.’

‘I see that you know your history, Daniel.’

‘I also like to feel that we’ve made some progress since the time of the Lionheart. Siege trains are vastly more effective now.’

‘If one can be brought here intact,’ said Marlborough. ‘However, that’s another problem. The one that confronts us now is that we can see the fortifications around Lille without quite understanding their exact design. To be more exact, we’d like to see them from
inside
the town as well as from outside.’

‘Ideally,’ said Cardonnel, ‘we want Vauban’s original plan. It must be somewhere inside Lille. Someone has to find it.’

‘Finding it will be difficult enough,’ said Daniel, warily, ‘but we can’t expect them to oblige us by handing it over. Besides, it must be forty years since Vauban built the defences and the arsenal there. Later additions will have been made. You will surely want details of those as well.’

‘We want everything you can get us, Daniel,’ said Marlborough, ‘including information about their troop numbers and how they intend to repel our attacks. It’s going to be the most difficult siege we’ve ever undertaken. Lille already has natural protection from those unhealthy marshes around the Rivers Deûle and Marque. On three sides out of four, it’s within striking distance of the
French-held
towns of Ypres, Tournai, Douai and Béthune, all of which could send operational support. We are in for an epic struggle.’

‘That’s nothing new, Your Grace,’ said Cardonnel, waspishly. ‘You have an epic struggle every time you hold a council of war.’ The three of them laughed. ‘The assignment may not be as intimidating as it might seem at first glance, Daniel.’

‘No,’ said Marlborough, taking over. ‘Lille has not yet closed its gates for good, and it will be weeks before the peripheral lines of circumvallation are constructed. If you have a plausible reason for getting in, the French will not stop you, and our soldiers will not prevent you from getting out alive.’

Daniel grinned. ‘That’s reassuring to know.’

‘We’ll provide you with any forged documents you require.’

‘Thank you, Your Grace.’

‘All you have to decide is how you intend to proceed.’

‘I think I’ll start by drinking this,’ said Daniel, taking a long sip of wine. ‘I need fortifying just as much as Lille.’

‘You managed to get into the Bastille,’ remembered Cardonnel. ‘Gaining access to a town should be far less taxing.’

‘That’s not my concern. Tracking down the information you want is the real test. Is there nobody inside Lille who could help?’

‘Yes,’ said Marlborough. ‘His name is Guillaume Lizier. He runs a tavern there and will give you food and shelter. Adam will tell you how to find him.’ Daniel lapsed into a reverie. It was a full minute before Marlborough interrupted him. ‘I can see that you’re already wondering in what guise to enter the town. Will it be as Marcel Daron, the wine merchant? That role has served you well in the past, and who is more likely to seek out a tavern keeper than a wine merchant? Are you to become Marcel Daron once more?’