The Travellers

by J. Howard Shelley

  Chapter 4

  It was, by the Duke’s reckoning nearly two hours later that Vallon returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. To the Duke’s relief Francis, answering his employer’s questioning glance with a brief nod, returned with him.

  “You were right,” Vallon remarked as he poured his guests a glass of wine each, “one of Hainaut’s lackeys came in almost as soon as I went back downstairs.” The Landlord looked a little puzzled, “There is more to this than meets the eye. Hainaut’s behaviour makes no sense. My sister tells me that the lady you brought here is quite obviously of the English nobility. She speaks fluent French, her clothes are of good quality, she has a maid who travels with her and her manners clearly proclaim her status. Yet our friend appears very keen to find her. Surely, having lost her, he would want to avoid the scandal. Chasing her across France is dangerous and likely to attract attention. While society might forgive a liaison with the niece of an innkeeper, ruining the virtue of an English Lady would be unlikely to be forgotten. Wars have been started over less.”

  “I cannot shed any light upon the matter either.” The Duke was as much in the dark as his host, “The lady told me that there was more at stake here than even her reputation but we had no time to discuss the matter further. Doubtless she will enlighten us as soon as we are secure from discovery. Is it yet safe?”

  “My sister,” replied the landlord in a tone which indicated that, as a mere male he had not been consulted over the matter, “has asked me to tell you that the ladies are exhausted and have retired to bed. If I know my sister, they will have had very little say in it. She told me that the lady asked her to tell you that, if you would be so kind as to attend them tomorrow morning an explanation will be forthcoming.”

  “I suppose” said the Duke having considered the matter, “That there is little we can do now in any event. I should however like to hear what you two have been doing.” He looked at Francis, “where did you find a carriage so quickly? I heard you careering out of the town only ten minutes after you left us.”

  “I was lucky,” Francis said, “not more than five minutes after I left you, I found a carriage with two fresh horses just standing outside a house. I .... ‘invited’ the driver to get down, and mindful of your instructions, stole the whole equipage.”

  “It belongs to the Doctor” interjected the landlord “I told him, when he came in raving that a pack of thieves had viciously assaulted his coachman and stolen his carriage, that an Englishman staying at my inn had left precipitately about the same time as the carriage was stolen. He has gone to tell the authorities. The story will seem much more credible if Hainaut hears it from more than one source. M’sieur le Docteur understood from his coachman that he stood no change against such an overwhelming force. He would be even less than happy if he knew that his servant had been overpowered by just one man.” The Landlord shrugged, “Claude’s priority has always been the preservation of his own skin. When Bonaparte was in charge it was always ‘vive la république’ now it is vive le roi!”

  Francis grinned at the Landlord’s strictures upon Claude’s courage and continued.

  “The Doctor’s has a fine pair of horses but I do not think they are used to being driven at a full gallop. It took them a while to settle and in the meantime, they kicked over every plant pot and sign in the street. I should think they raised the entire town. Once outside the town I dropped off the pace a little, the road is not good enough to risk driving at speed in the dark., Francis smiled, showing how much he had enjoyed himself, “I am afraid a couple of your neighbours are probably a little disturbed, M’sieur Vallon.” Neither the Duke nor Vallon thought he showed the slightest sign of regret. “Much to their distress, just after they had passed the turning for Hatten an unlit carriage driven at a lunatic pace came out of the dark in the opposite direction. As it passed their gig it grazed their wheels almost turning them into the ditch.”

  “It was Aubière,” Vallon remarked with a laugh. “Unfortunately for him he is rather nervous and very superstitious. If he hears a mouse behind the wainscot he is immediately convinced he is about to be murdered in his bed. He sees ghosts in every shadow, demons behind every tree and he is downstairs now, shaking like a leaf and trying to calm his nerves with the contents of a brandy bottle. The way he tells it, he was forced off the road by a ghostly carriage driven by a demon with red eyes and a huge whip.” The thought of the reticent Francis being cast as an evil spirit almost overset the Duke who had to bite on his glove to prevent a shout of laughter. Vallon concluded by adding, “apparently he thought this demonic apparition had come to drag him down to hell! Although,” he added ruminatively, “he has not yet told us what he had done to merit such a fate. He goes to confession at least three times a week.” Deeply appreciative of the vision of his supernatural antics it was a few moments before Francis could compose himself sufficiently to continue.

  “About five miles outside the town there is wood and I left the coach and tethered the horses there, but a way off the road. I do not think they will be found until morning. I was just about to write the note as instructed when a carriage passed along the road quickly, but not yet quickly enough as to amount to a chase. I think it was co-incidence. The message I left explained that the person who stole the doctor’s carriage did not want to bring their own vehicle into the town. If our friend is prepared to believe this note, then a planned rescue will seem more than credible. I explained therefore that we had stolen the carriage merely to get as far as the wood where we transferred to our own vehicle. As an enquiry will show that a carriage did in fact go down that road beyond the wood, if they follow it they will simply be chasing shadows.”

  “Are you sure you were not seen? The Duke asked.

  “I was not seen.”

  The Duke nodded, he had heard that tone from Francis before. If Francis said he had not been seen then that was the end of it.

  The Landlord was a good deal amused by this story. He obviously derived considerable satisfaction at the thought of Hainaut and his men riding through the night to chase a ghost. He explained what had happened downstairs.

  “As I explained, one of Hainaut’s lackeys, a belette called Orsin, came into the parlour and asked, if there was an English gentleman staying at my inn. I asked why he wanted to know and he explained that his master had heard that one of his friends was here. I was properly affronted M’sieur. I was furious with Orsin and his master and I told him that Monsieur Hainaut should make sure his friends did not disappear from my inn without paying their bill. Orsin begged my pardon on behalf of his master but I would not let him leave until he understood the full extent of my injuries. I insisted he follow me to the rooms which the English visitors, to whom I had extended the hospitality of my house, had latterly and so precipitately vacated. He could see that the occupants had left in a hurry leaving their rooms in a mess which of course I should have to clear up. We then returned to my parlour where I demanded Monsieur Hainaut pay me for his guests' perfidy. They would not, I asserted, have come here at all without his master’s invitation. My loss was his master’s fault and I would have satisfaction. At this point Monsieur le Docteur returned to my inn with this intention of drowning his sorrows at the loss of his carriage. Like Aubière he is rather too much addicted to brandy. Upon hearing my woes, he gave it as his opinion that Monsieur Hainaut would also have to account to him for the loss of his carriage. And he also demanded payment from Orsin. When it became generally known that the Doctor’s carriage was missing several of my customers said they saw it disappearing along the road to Hatten at full gallop and suggested that Monsieur Hainaut’s guest was a menace on the road. At this Aubière belatedly realised that what he had seen was not a creature from hell but a disreputable friend of Monsieur Hainaut driving a carriage at full gallop down a country road in the dark with little consideration for road users and furiously demanded an apology. What could Orsin do? He said that this behaviour did not sound like his master’s good friend
Monsieur Danvert, although he admitted he could be a little wild and he promised faithfully to explain matters to his master. After many apologies and promises of recompense he was finally allowed to leave. Hainaut is not a kind master - I suspect he is on the way to Hatten now.”

  The Duke and Francis had enjoyed Vallon’s account immensely. He was, despite his spare frame, extremely strong from years of handling barrels and horses and it was not hard to imagine the landlord dragging the reluctant Orsin around his inn. Nonetheless, although grateful for his help, he was concerned that he might have exposed the amiable landlord to a risk of danger. This was dismissed with a Gallic shrug.

  “I do not fear him. I have many more friends in this town than him. En outré I have long waited for the opportunity to even the score with my Monsieur Hainaut and I think I might now have found it.” The innkeeper levered himself out of his chair and made for the door. “I shall leave you now, unless I miss my guess I suspect you may need your sleep.” He opened the door. “Oh Monsieur, I nearly forgot, you do not have to worry about your horses. My brother, who deals in horses now and then, has acquired two new splendid beasts which bear a remarkable resemblance to your mounts. He has stabled them here. He will be more than happy to sell them to me for next to nothing.” With that mine host bowed himself out of the room.

  The Duke and Francis had occupied far less commodious accommodation than Vallon’s spare room over the last three years and they had little difficulty sleeping. As both men fell into the arms of Morpheus, their last waking thoughts were strangely similar. The Duke had a mental image of a tiny English lady competently wielding an epée and Francis thought of a quiet abigail brandishing a pistol.

  Neither the Duke nor Francis slept late the following day. Vallon presented them with a splendid breakfast and informed them that the ladies now residing with his sister would be ready to receive them at their convenience. He then added somewhat sardonically that this invitation held good so long as Monsieur Rufford’s convenience led him to present himself not a second earlier than ten o’clock.

  Some fifteen minutes after the appointed hour the two men crossed the stable yard and entered Vallon’s sister’s house. The Landlord had prevented the possibility of them being seen by the simple expedient of parking a delivery of wine across the gate into his yard thus obscuring the view of anyone who might happen to pass by at that moment. The lady of the house – Vallon had said his sister was called Madame Ricard - conducted them into a back room where the lady and the abigail that the Duke had encountered the previous evening were waiting. Madame would have left but the Duke prevented her,

  “Madame Ricard please stay. I have invited your brother to join us. I suspect we may need to batten yet further upon your good nature.” He strode over to Vallon’s sister, grasped her hands, smiled broadly and bowed a little. “Please allow me to thank you for your help, I am sure we have put you to great trouble and, whatever your brother says, I think we have exposed you to a real risk.”

  The Duke’s smile had won him many friends over the years and Madame Ricard was no more impervious than those upon whom it had been bestowed in the past. In addition, although he had chosen to hide his real identity, his manners proclaimed, if not his true rank, at least his status as a gentleman. Madame, whose family had been innkeepers for several generations still regularly helped her brother and she had the experience to recognise that her brother’s guest was no ordinary traveller. Blushed at the honour showed to her she dropped a curtsey, stammered out that it had been a pleasure to help an English lady and her maid to escape from that villainous cochon and confirmed that she would do whatever she could if it would help bring Monsieur Hainaut to justice.

  At that moment Vallon, entered and shut the door behind him.

  “I have just this moment left town to obtain supplies. You will appreciate that this might take some time. No-one will miss me.”

  The Duke looked around the room. It appeared that he had been appointed to lead the discussion. He thought for a moment and then looked at the lady sitting opposite.

  “I have asked Monsieur Vallon and his sister to be present because they may have useful information about our friend M’sieur Hainaut. Even if they do not, they have the same wish to see justice meted out to him full measure as do you.”

  “Madame Ricard,” the Lady acknowledged her host with a smile, “did me the honour of explaining what happened to her daughter. Even if they had no interest in this discussion I could not ask her to leave. I am deep in their debt.”

  “I am afraid my good Vallon,” The Duke smiled apologetically at his hosts, “that I have deceived you a little. As you will soon find out I am not the Monsieur Rufford you think me.” He then turned to the Lady, “how did you recognise me?”

  “I saw you once a few years ago on a visit to Sale Park. It was just before your wife died. You were pointed out to me by my uncle.” If the mention of his wife caused him any pain it was not obvious. What was apparent was his puzzlement. She sighed deeply. “I am afraid this may take some time.” She looked at the innkeeper and his sister. “This man is not Monsieur Rufford. He is the Duke of Sale, one of the wealthiest and respected men in England. Baron Ware of Rufford is one of his minor titles.” Madame Ricard and Vallon both drew in their breath sharply. It was Vallon who spoke,

  “I have been entertaining an English Duc in my humble inn and I knew nothing about it. Mon Dieu!”

  “I beg you will not publish that fact abroad for the moment” said the Duke, “it could be, to say the least, somewhat inconvenient. However, I promise I will visit you again one day and you can then tell all your neighbours.” Vallon sat back in his chair clearly enjoying a vision of being boasting that his small inn entertained quality. The Duke looked pointedly at the lady. “For the moment, I am intrigued to know how this lady knew who I am, for I am perfectly sure I have never met her before. I also admit,” he continued in a masterpiece of understatement, “to a certain curiosity over how and why she held Monsieur Hainaut sword point, and what in heaven she was doing alone in a small town in Alsace in the first place? Finally, I would like to know how I may restore her to her uncle.” It was an invitation to continue.

  To his surprise, the Lady, thus far one of the most composed member of her sex that he had yet met, was now looking very unsure of herself. He was just about to reassure her but she forestalled him;

  “My name is Sarah Leighton. You know of my uncle, Viscount Borden, I think. He has a small estate that borders Sale Park. I have been resident at Borden in his care ever since I was seven years old. Before that I was in the care of his father.”

  The Duke’s was surprised. He was not intimately acquainted with the Viscount who was much older than he, but from the circumstance of Lord Lionel and Viscount Borden having been friends for years, he had met Miss Leighton’s uncle many times. As far as he was aware the Viscount had no living relatives, much less pretty female ones. He was just about to ask the questions revolving around in his head but Miss Leighton rushed on as if trying to prevent him from interrupting. “As you know, my uncle and Lord Lionel were friends. When I was fourteen Lord Lionel was visiting Sale Park and my uncle was planning to drive over to see him. My brother had just left home to go to sea and I was lonely. I was also desperate to see your house and I pleaded with my uncle to let me visit. My uncle is very fond of me and so I was permitted to go. When everyone went outside, one of the maids showed me around the house. We were just passing one of the windows facing the south lawn when the maid stopped me and pointed you out. That is how I knew who you were, I had seen you before.”

  “But,” the Duke interjected unable to contain his curiosity any longer “as you say, I know your uncle well. Not perhaps as well as Lord Lionel, but well enough. I have visited Borden more than once. I have even dined there. Yet I had no idea he had a niece and nephew, much less a niece and nephew who lived with him. How comes this about? Why have we never been introduced? I can assure you,” he said in a tone loaded wit
h meaning, “I should have remembered you.” The Duke was somewhat surprised to see a look of acute discomfort on Miss Leighton’s face. Seriously discomposed she looked searchingly at her maid who though also clearly concerned, shrugged, unable to advise her.

  “There is an explanation,” Miss Leighton said haltingly, “and I will provide it to you; or my uncle will. Indeed” she added somewhat cryptically, “as you are now aware of my existence you must be told.” She halted, and looked again at her maid for assistance.

  “Miss Sarah,” Martha said in a low voice, “as you say he will need to be told.” She turned to the Duke, “But might I ask if for the moment you could restrain your curiosity.” She stopped for a moment and then almost to herself she added, “Oh dear, this is so awkward!”

  “Madam, Miss Leighton,” the Duke could not be proof against this appeal, “You have no obligation to explain anything to me whatsoever. I shall contain my curiosity, and if at some stage you consider it appropriate to explain matters I will listen. If not...” he paused, “Well if not, you may be assured of my discretion.

  “I thank you, Your Grace” The Duke’s unquestioning acceptance of her story gave Miss Leighton courage. “If I tell you that very few people are aware of my existence, that I do not go into society and that my circumstances are such that I am obliged to exercise the greatest discretion will that be sufficient explanation for the moment? When time allows I will tell you my full history.”

  “You may tell me, or you may choose not to tell me, Miss Leighton,” the Duke replied courteously, “Now, how may I assist you?”

  “I am grateful for your forbearance Sir.” Miss Leighton heaved a sigh of relief and appeared to settle somewhat at the reassurance. “We would be very grateful for your further assistance as there is a great deal at stake.” She paused a moment gathering her thoughts and then spoke more positively. “I need to explain what I am doing in Alsace. Since I turned seventeen I have usually travelled with my uncle as he is no longer comfortable leaving me alone at Borden. You will of course know that my uncle is intimate with the foreign secretary Mr. Canning, and as a result often travels abroad on diplomatic business. When he is working, I manage his paperwork and write his letters, acting if you will, as an unofficial private secretary. When we are at Borden I manage the household. My uncle is presently resident at the Chateaux owned by Monsieur Hainaut’s uncle in Eberbach-Seltz a few miles from here to attend a conference at the request of His Majesty King Louis XVIII.” The Duke’s head came up at that moment and he glanced across at Francis. One mystery had been solved.

  “On the way into town yesterday,” the Duke observed, “we were overtaken by a number of very expensive carriages. When we arrived at Seltz we were surprised to see no sign of any of them. I presume there is some sort of diplomatic conference at the Chateaux? What is it about?”

  “It is supposed” Miss Leighton’s voice was laden with heavy irony, “to be a secret conference but, as most of the delegates insisted on arriving in a manner to impress their fellows, the news that something is going on at Chateaux Hainaut must be all over Alsace by now.”

  “You are right mademoiselle,” Monsieur Vallon interrupted, “speculation is rife as to what is going on there; but that something is going on is common knowledge. We all knew the Vicomte was expecting visitors three weeks ago. His housekeeper has been hiring help and buying extra supplies.” He gave a shrug, “Keeping such things a secret in this area is almost impossible.”

  “If I had arranged the meeting it would have been a secret,” Miss Leighton remarked acidly. No-one doubted her word for a moment. “The purpose of the conference relates to the succession to the French throne. His Majesty is not a well man; his doctors have predicted that he is unlikely to see the year out. The heir to the throne is the King’s brother Charles, who is currently the Compte D’Artois. He is not as well liked as his father and indeed has expressed some views in certain quarters that have already made him enemies. Then of course there is the added problem that there are those who do not love the King at all and would like to see another republic.”

  “Not here in Alsace,” said Madame Ricard hotly,

  “Yes,” contradicted Miss Leighton shaking her head sadly, “even here in Alsace. This is a critical time for the throne of France and for the relationships between our two countries. The King knows full well, even if his brother does not, that Charles will need English support if he is to remain on the throne. This is more particularly true in the first few years of his reign as Charles has neither the friends nor yet the diplomatic skill the King possesses. He has not the connexions His Majesty built up while living abroad and, if he is to develop them, then he needs to do so now. As the King is no longer well enough to travel or to deal with the more demanding aspects of government he asked the Duke of Savoy, to arrange this conference and to speak on his behalf. You will probably know the Queen is sister to the current Duke. For our part, the British government has no wish for another war and, if there were to be another revolution, the Earl of Liverpool thinks it unlikely that, after so many years of conflict the public would support a further expedition to France - or be prepared to pay the cost of it.

  At this point Miss Leighton paused for a moment allowing the Duke, who had listened to Miss Leighton with increasing amazement to collect his thoughts. English ladies did not commonly interest themselves in politics, regarding it as dull and the province of their husbands. This lady had apparently not only mastered the subject but was also conversant with the mind-bending intricacies of international diplomacy. He wondered for a moment if she was simply echoing the thoughts of her uncle but he discounted the thought immediately. It was clear her understanding went deeper than that, she was able to extract the major issues from a very complex situation and present them so that others might understand them.

  “If there were no reason to believe that the succession was at risk then, in all probability, neither King Louis nor the Prime Minister nor even indeed King George would be unduly concerned,” Miss Leighton’s voice recalled the Duke’s attention to the matter at hand. “Charles could learn the role over time just as his predecessors did. There is a very real fear however that he may not be granted that time. There are rumours that those who supported Bonaparte are not as beaten as they might appear. The Corsican bandit is dead but there are plenty who would assume his mantle and they regard the forthcoming death of King Louis as an opportunity. The view of the foreign secretary is that the only reliable way of avoiding another war is to ensure a smooth transition of power from King Louis to his brother. My uncle is in France to represent His Majesty’s government and he has a limited permission to enter treaties on His Majesty’s behalf. When the conference was first suggested there was some discussion as to a suitable location. Paris would have been far too public and my uncle was anxious, as far as possible, to avoid the King’s enemies guessing what was happening. Vicomte Hainaut has always been a loyal friend of the King and suggested his home as a suitably remote location.”

  “So, we have unwittingly stumbled into international politics.” The Duke commented thoughtfully. “I perceive,” he added “that Monsieur Hainaut has a different view on the wisdom or desirability of the succession to that of his uncle. He intended to use you as a weapon, not only against your uncle but against the peace between England and France.”

  “You are acute, Your Grace. That was indeed his intention. We have been staying with the Vicomte for nearly a week and I had frequently met Monsieur Hainaut. He can be charming when he chooses and, as there was little for me to do and he was not invited to attend the discussions, I had been spending some time in his company. Yesterday morning, my uncle told me that he would not need me until the evening and so when Monsieur Hainaut invited me to take a drive with him I agreed to do so. I walked foolishly into a trap. When I asked Monsieur when we would be turning back he told me that I would not be returning to my uncle’s protection. When I screamed Hainaut order his lackeys to overpower me and he
pointed a pistol at Martha. He told me that if I did not remain quiet he would kill her.” The quiet fury that consumed her face at this convinced the Duke that this direct threat to her maid had affected her more than anything else. “Martha has been with me since I was a baby,” she explained, conscious that her anger had been evident, “and she has always looked out for me. I have no mother. For this threat,” she looked straight at the Duke “if for no other reason, I shall have him brought to justice.” The Duke did not doubt what she said for one second. “As you have surmised, it appears that the nephew is not as loyal to the King as is his uncle, although whether his actions result from any profound conviction I could not say. He told me that he would use me to force my uncle to refuse any help to the French King and his heir or, as he had not yet concluded which route would be the most effective, he would murder me and let it be known that the deed had been done on the orders of the King’s brother.” At this point Martha, who had until that point remained resolutely silent could no longer keep still,

  “Your Grace, Miss Sarah does not tell the whole story.” As her mistress tried to interrupt, she cut her short, “No Miss Sarah I will NOT be silent, his Grace has a right to know the fate that man had planned for you and what he therefore prevented.” She turned back to the Duke and continued, “That man told Miss Sarah that, as she would not be returning to her uncle whatever happened, he need have no concerns as to her treatment. He said she was ‘a taking little thing’ and that he would enjoy her later. He said he would give her to his lackeys afterwards. He laughed at ....”

  Vallon could take no more, clearly distressed by what he had heard, he leapt out of his chair and gave vent to an oath in vernacular French which made his sister cringe. Before she could remonstrate with him however he turned to Miss Leighton still obviously struggling to control his temper,

  “Mademoiselle,” the innkeeper spoke with great dignity, “on behalf of my town and my country please accept my apology that such a harm could have been contemplated against you.” He spluttered to a halt once again fighting for control.

  “Monsieur Vallon, this is not necessary ...” Miss Leighton hastened to reassure the innkeeper but he was not in any mood to be so easily stopped.

  “No! No! No! Mademoiselle. It is most necessary. That the crime committed against you, and the one which Hainaut was planning to commit, was against a visitor who was here with the sole aim of preventing my country once more drifting into yet another war brings shame upon us all. If there is anything I, or indeed any of my friends, can do to put matters right you only have to ask.”

  Miss Leighton was clearly much moved by this outburst and rose from her chair to place her hand on his arm.

  “Vallon,” Miss Leighton said gently but looking him in the eye so that he could not but see that she meant every word. “I knew of course that the majority of your countrymen are brave, honourable and honest, but to have that confirmed in such a way means more than I can say. Your words give me more strength that you can imagine. Hainaut will face justice, I will see to it, as will the Duke. Unless I am gravely mistaken he will not only have to answer to me but also to you, your sister and your niece.”

  It was to be seen that Miss Leighton was now unable to tell her story in the impersonal tone she had used hitherto. Instead of returning to her seat she started to pace around the room.

  “He underestimated me” she continued fiercely but with a note of triumph in her voice. “When we arrived at the house where you found us, Hainaut and his men dragged us upstairs where he left us under the guard of one of his men. This lackey, no doubt emboldened by the licence afforded him by his master’s words and the half bottle of brandy he had drunk, tried to molest me. While his attention was diverted Martha hit him on the head with a vase. He went down like a stone and he may be there still. I care not. I took his sword and Martha his pistol and we attempted to escape. As I came down the stairs there were three men inside the front door and a further two, including Hainaut, in the corridor behind us. We were, in order to keep them all in front of us, forced to back into the room in which you found me. Hainaut thought he could frighten me and assumed I could not defend myself. He found himself instead at sword point.” Seeing the Duke was about to interrupt with a question she added. “My brother had fencing lessons and afterwards he used to practice with me. I know how to handle a sword. But we had reached an impasse and he knew it. Although I had him at a disadvantage and he assured me repeatedly that he was not prepared to risk his skin,” her lips curled at the memory, “if I had killed him there would have been nothing to prevent his lackeys overpowering me. If I did not kill him, eventually I would have tired. He knew this and had settled down to wait matters out. Then I heard you talking in the street. I was never more glad to hear an English voice in my life and in the hope you would hear me I threatened our friend loudly.” Miss Leighton shrugged expressively, “now you know the whole story.” She paused and then asked, “Your Grace, you asked me how you might assist me. My uncle will be beside himself with worry by now I must return to him as soon as I can. You can assist me, France, and your own country, by restoring me to him.”

  “I have every intention” The Duke replied in as reassuring tones as he was able to articulate, “of doing so. Until you are within the Chateaux and back in the care of your uncle I think you are at risk. It may be that Hainaut, finding his scheme has failed, has decided that it is too dangerous to remain here. I think however he will still feel the odds favour him. He has friends and is in his own country and as far as he knows we are just four including two females. There is also a great deal we do not know. We do not know how persistent our friend is or whether he fell for our trick with the stolen carriage. There is a possibility he saw through the ruse or has found out the truth. We will need to be careful as there is still a possibility that they will be looking for you here. We shall ask our friend Monsieur Vallon,” he smiled in the innkeeper’s direction, “if he has any idea how this may be achieved. Judging by the inventiveness he has thus far displayed I imagine he has already conceived a plan. We shall see. You are a brave woman engaged in work of the highest importance and which if it fails, may lead to this county and our own becoming embroiled in yet another war. You have asked for our help and you shall receive it. Monsieur Vallon and I will now consider how best to gain admittance to the Chateaux without being seen.”