He knew the French were now determined to take Madrid, but the city was preparing to resist. The remains of the Spanish armies were converging on the capital, and the people were arming and barricading the streets. Sir John did not believe that they could hold out long, but he might be able to do something to distract the French. If they sent part of their army to combat him, Madrid might be saved. Of course, if they sent the whole of the army after the British—and Bonaparte might order that, urged by his monomania about England and feeling that when they had finished the British army they could return to take Madrid—then, Moore pointed out, they would have to run for it.
A plan was made to join the British forces with the Spanish under General Romana and attack the French lines of communication by marching on Valladolid. Nonetheless, Sir John ordered the convoy with the sick and the heavy baggage to leave. Esmeralda urged Molly to go with it, but she would not, insisting that as a staff officer’s servant she was better off with the army. And when M’Guire was asked to intervene, he only blushed and said, “But you’m goin’, mistress.”
“I am not eight months’ gone with child,” Esmeralda protested.
“No, mistress,” M’Guire agreed, blushing more than ever, “but you’m a leddy.” Then he shrugged. “Molly knows best. ‘Tisn’t her first.”
And then Molly pointed out that as a displaced wife she would be at the mercy of a quartermaster sergeant, whereas with Esmeralda she was assured of decent lodgings and food in plenty. Knowing about the army and the treatment of the common soldiers’ wives, Esmeralda began to reconsider sending Molly back to Lisbon. Robert would give her whatever money he could spare, but living in Lisbon was expensive. Besides, without her husband and Robert’s rank to protect her, Molly could be preyed upon and might end up worse off in Portugal than with the army. The reasoning was quite correct, but neither Esmeralda nor Molly knew of the conversation taking place around Sir John’s dining table.
“What is hoped,” he said to his staff as the wine went around after dinner on December 5, “is that our attack will induce Bonaparte’s marshals to divide. Then, if we can defeat the portion of the army sent against us, we will give the Spanish time to rearm, retrain, and reorganize.” Then he sighed. “Truthfully,” he went on, “I have not the slightest expectation that the Spanish will use the time we will buy them with our blood to the smallest good purpose. I greatly fear we will have to run, and I have already asked Lord Castlereagh to have transports waiting for us at Corunna, but if the people of Madrid are ready to sacrifice their lives, we can do no less than give what aid is possible.”
A murmur of agreement went around the table, and Robert said, “Is there any chance of arranging matters so that it seems the attack has been made solely by the Spanish? It is more likely that the French will send only a small force to quash them, whereas if it is known that we are involved…”
“That’s a good idea,” Colborne agreed, “but I don’t think it would be possible. Some of the French are bound to get away, and many of them would notice the red uniforms or recognize and report that the men weren’t speaking Spanish.”
Sir John’s lips twitched. “I am afraid, Moreton, that Colborne’s objections are just. No, if we are successful and our men are still capable of it, we will try another strike near Burgos. Then we will have to look for a strong point that commands the roads to Corunna. If we can resist and settle into winter quarters, we will do so, but… I will speak my mind plainly, gentlemen. I believe we will need to run.”
Oddly, it was while this discussion was taking place and after the baggage had been dispatched to Portugal that another attempt was made to enter the stable in which Bear was kept. Carlos, who had been having his supper with Molly and M’Guire in their quarters, returned to the stable only to see a man about to unlatch the door. Carlos yelled, and the man ran off before M’Guire could come out of his quarters and see him. When Robert got home, Carlos told him that he thought the man was tall and fair.
“Do you think he’s after the horses?” Esmeralda asked.
“He must be,” Robert said. “But how the devil does the fool expect to get my horses out of Salamanca? They’re thoroughbreds. Any officer of the guard would start asking questions the minute he saw them.”
“Yes, but the thief wouldn’t necessarily know that, Robert.”
“I suppose not.” Robert shrugged. “At least he now believes that the stable is guarded and hopefully won’t come back.”
“Oh, Robert, he ran, but if that was only because he was startled and he saw that Carlos was a boy…”
“I can guard the horses, senhora,” Carlos interrupted.
Robert blinked, realizing that Esmeralda was more worried about Carlos than about the horses. “Not if the thief should come back with two or three to help him,” Robert said tactfully. “I think for a night or two I will ask M’Guire to assist you. He has a gun.”
To this Carlos made no objection. He was aware of the value of Captain Moreton’s horses and did not wish to be responsible for their loss. Thus, M’Guire took over Carlos’s bed near the horses. Molly offered to take Carlos in with her—over the months they had been in service together he had become like a son to her—but Carlos had no intention of missing the excitement if M’Guire should catch the thief.
M’Guire suggested that Carlos sleep with Bear. This was reassuring to Molly, who was certain no stranger would approach close enough to Bear to harm Carlos. And Carlos was happy to agree because he had been worried about being cold. M’Guire would have his blankets. Cuddled against Bear, however, he would be warm enough.
And, indeed, with no more than a low grunt, which might even have signified pleasure, Bear accepted Carlos’s company in the clean straw. As Carlos had expected, the bear radiated considerable warmth. Moreover, Bear slept very quietly. The creature did snore, but it was a very regular noise, soothing once one became accustomed to it. Thus, although Carlos was determined to lie awake and watch for the thief—because he was sure M’Guire doubted the man would return and would fall asleep—he himself drifted off very soon.
Nonetheless, it was Carlos who caught the intruder. The boy was awakened abruptly when Bear suddenly stood up. For a moment he lay still, sleep-dazed and confused by his unusual surroundings. In that little time, he heard the clinking of Bear’s chain. It was that sound that recalled to him where he was sleeping and why, and he jumped to his feet shouting, just as the man undid Bear’s chain from the hook on the wall. The intruder was briefly paralyzed by surprise. He had not noticed Carlos sleeping in the straw. Then he pulled the chain, calling some incomprehensible gibberish. Bear moved forward, but slowly. The time of the long sleeping was approaching, and the animal was growing sluggish.
By then, of course, it was too late. Carlos launched himself at the intruder—again taking him by surprise because he had dismissed the boy as too young to do more than yell for help—knocking him off balance. The man staggered against the wall, crying out himself and attempting to fend off Carlos, who had drawn his knife. Then both of them were fixed in the beam of a lantern. M’Guire, wakened by Carlos’s shout, had unshuttered his dark lantern and was standing by the door, gun in hand.
“Ye be out o’ the way, young Carlos,” he ordered, “an’ put away th’ pig-sticker of yourn. Ye be a demmed sight too quick t’ wave it aroond.”
By then M’Guire had taken in the fact that the man had bypassed the horses, which were all in their proper stalls, and still had Bear’s chain in his hand. Obviously he had come for the bear, not the horses. In the next moment, it became clear that he must be the bear’s owner. Bear placidly accepted anyone who displayed affection or brought food, but as the animal’s lethargy dissipated, it began to show excitement, snuffling and whining and rubbing its head against the man who stood absolutely still under the threat of M’Guire’s gun.
M’Guire frowned. “If y’ wanted th’ demmed bear, whyn’t ye jist come ask? The mistress’s been half woild tryin’ t’ find a safe place fer
it.”
The man shook his head and said something. M’Guire did not understand him at all. Carlos cocked his head and then said in broken English, “He speak maybe some Spanish, but no good.”
“Weel, he don’ speak anythin’ I unnerstan’,” M’Guire said. “An’ I ain’t about t’ wake Capt’in Moreton at this hour. Git me a rope, Carlos. I’ll jist fasten ‘im down, gentle loike, and serve ‘im up to the capt’in fer breakfast.”
Ignoring the passionate protests, which neither could really understand, this program was put into action, so that Robert found the intruder waiting for him as soon as he had washed and dressed in the morning. After considerable fumbling with German, French, and Spanish, Robert determined that the bear keeper was a German named Joseph Grossmann and the reason he gave for trying to steal his pet, despite the messages that Robert had left along the road to Béjar, was that he and his companions had been mistreated by the French and consequently he was frightened. In fact, the other members of the troupe had been forcibly abducted by the soldiers they had been entertaining. Joseph had escaped only because he had taken the bear into a nearby wood to see if he could find some honey.
There was genuine anguish in Joseph’s voice when he spoke of those abducted—and real hatred when he spoke of the French. However, Robert was not willing to take responsibility for giving Bear to the man and letting him go. There was a chance he was a spy, and Robert did not trust his judgment completely in this case. He knew he was predisposed in Joseph’s favor because of the evidence he had of his kindness to the animal.
Thus, he brought the man, under guard, to Sir John and related the story. Having added a few questions of his own, to determine from which principality in the Germanies Joseph had come, Sir John promptly sent to the King’s Own German Legion to obtain a translator from the same area, if possible. Fortunately, a sergeant from a neighboring town was available. At hearing his own language, Joseph let loose a torrent of words, occasionally bursting into tears, but the story was essentially the same except for some details and the added information about his having fallen ill, during which time he had become separated from his beloved Bertha. Robert howled when he heard the name, “Bear-ta” as Joseph pronounced it. No wonder Bear had answered so happily to Esmeralda’s designation. Sir John laughed too, and then ordered that Joseph be taken away by his compatriot and fed, but kept under guard.
When the man was gone, Sir John said to Robert, “I tend to agree with you. I think the fellow was telling the truth and does hate the French.” Then he paused and added thoughtfully, “These roving performers are to be found everywhere. I wonder if the man might be useful to us. Let him stay in Sergeant Landsheit’s company for a day or two. Then we need only see what the sergeant thinks and whether he can convince Joseph to serve us. We could give him some money and let him go, promising to return his animal to him if he will bring us information about the French. He wouldn’t have to go near them, just transmit word of what the Spanish are saying. Probably it will be a waste of good money, but there is a chance… And intelligence is so bad that even lies may help.”
Robert nodded. It was, indeed, very difficult to obtain information. Town officials who should have passed along word of French foraging parties or units moving in their area either did not do so at all or sent word by couriers who seemed to think they were overworked if they traveled ten miles a day. However small the chance that Joseph would even try to spy for them, it was worth a few guineas and a few hours of Landsheit’s time. Robert passed along the word to the sergeant and was not surprised to hear two days later that Joseph had agreed. What would surprise him was seeing the man return with anything but a string of lies and excuses.
What Robert had not expected was that Joseph would not return at all. He might even have reported this to Sir John had his mind not been taken up with more important matters. Even before they had discussed what their action could do to assist those defending Madrid, the city had fallen into French hands. The news was discussed with groans of dismay, but to the ADCs’ surprise, Sir John did not change his plans or mention retreat again. Although it was the capital, it was only a city, he said. No Spanish army had been inside it, and the central junta had also escaped—except for those who had traitorously opened the gates to the French. Spanish resistance was not entirely dead, and he was determined to give it what assistance he could.
Thus, the army began to move. The cavalry, under Lord Paget, was already out forming a screen behind which, on December 11, the infantry marched. On December 13, Moore and his staff reached Alaejos. Robert’s contingent—now much increased from the single baggage mule with which he had started—included M’Guire leading Robert’s horses, Carlos leading Luisa and Bear, and Molly leading a second mule, which Esmeralda had purchased for her so she could ride if she tired.
Nonetheless, this march had been less pleasant. The warm spell that had briefly touched the end of November had given way not only to cold but to heavy rain. Nor was Alaejos as large a town as Salamanca, so that quarters were necessarily more cramped and less elegant. Esmeralda valiantly did her best, but the room was still cold, damp, and rather dirty when Robert came in. He was filthy himself, soaked by the thin mud splashed up by his own and other horses’ hooves, but he did not complain when Esmeralda offered only a small pot of hot water. It was the best their little hearth would do, and a minor miracle at that, considering that the firewood was soaked.
However, when there was a knock on the door only moments after he had stripped off his clothing and begun to wash, he did mutter imprecations. Esmeralda ran down to tell the orderly that Robert would come as soon as he had got some clothing on, but instead she cried out, “Joseph!”
The guard, who had the juggler in an unkind grip, relaxed it somewhat. “You do know the man, Mrs. Moreton?”
“Yes, he’s Bear’s owner,” Esmeralda replied.
Involuntarily the guard smiled, and his grip relaxed even more. Almost every man in the whole army knew Bear. Carlos, with the excuse of exercising the animal, had shown her off all over the camp. The guard shook Joseph, but not too hard, and asked why he didn’t explain himself instead of just saying Captain Moreton’s name over and over.
“He can’t explain himself, Sergeant,” Esmeralda interposed quickly. “He can’t even understand you. He only speaks German, and a few words of Spanish and French. You can leave him with me.” She saw at once that the suggestion had made the guard uneasy, and added, “Captain Moreton’s above-stairs, and M’Guire is just behind the stable, but come up if you wish. Yes, perhaps you had better. Captain Moreton will want to know when and where Joseph appeared.”
Joseph had not understood a word of what had been said, except for the various names, but he realized that he had been recognized and accepted because of the difference in the way the sergeant was gripping him. Thus, he went up the stairs most readily, and as soon as he saw Robert, he tore open the hem of his ragged coat, fumbled within, and withdrew a packet of papers, which he thrust into Robert’s hand. Robert glanced down at them, started to say something to Joseph, and then drew his breath in sharply.
“Get the man something to eat and drink if he wants it,” he said to Esmeralda, “and try to explain to him that we will keep our word. He may leave with Bear tomorrow if he wishes, or he may remain with us. I wish I knew where the Second Dragoons were so we could get hold of Landsheit. Sergeant, do you know anyone who can speak German?”
The sergeant had seen Robert’s reaction to the documents he held, and he said, “I’ll try to find someone, sir.”
“If you do, bring him to headquarters. I’ll be there.”
“Yes, sir.” The sergeant saluted, then sketched another salute, the kind one comrade gives another, to Joseph, and added, “Sorry, mate, I didn’t know you was on our side,” as he left.
Robert then tried to shrug into a dry coat, but he needed Esmeralda’s help because he refused to put down the packet he was holding. His mind was so full of hopes of what it might
contain that he went out the door without another word and had to return to ask Esmeralda if she was afraid to be left alone with Joseph. She smiled and shook her head no and began by signs and a few words to suggest that the man eat and try to dry his clothing in front of the small fire.
Joseph had begun to look alarmed when Robert was so obviously startled by the documents he had brought, but he had relaxed again when the sergeant left, and now he smiled at Esmeralda. He seemed to understand that it was a mark of trust to have been left alone with her, and he tried hard to show that he was respectful and would not approach too near or threaten her. Esmeralda found it difficult to get him to understand what Robert had said, but even though that took considerable time Robert had not returned. It was growing very late, and Esmeralda had not the faintest idea what to do with the man. She had just about decided to take him to the stable and allow him to sleep there with Bear, when there was a knocking at the door again.
It was the sergeant who had brought Joseph, this time accompanied by the German translator Robert had sent him to find. They had come to take Joseph to headquarters, the sergeant said, but he was smiling, and the explanation offered Joseph in German seemed to satisfy him. When they were gone, Esmeralda undressed slowly and went to bed, but she could not sleep, and Robert found her, when he returned near dawn, sitting beside the fire.
“What are you doing awake?” he asked, and then, without for a reply, went on. “Picking up Bear was the best day’s work I’ve ever done, I think. Do you know what Joseph brought? It was a dispatch to Soult, and it contained all kinds of plans and orders and details about men and guns—a gold mine of information. They do think we’re back in Portugal, and Soult was ordered to overrun Léon with two infantry divisions and four cavalry regiments. Oh, Lord, this is a piece of luck. We know pretty well where every part of the French army is, how strong it is, and where it’s going—and they don’t even know we exist.”
Fortune's Bride (Heiress, Book Four) Page 37