Love Charade Part 34

"Danny, we all share Julian's concern." Westmore stepped in briskly. "But we will pledge ourselves to your support. If you must go into France then we will go with you. But you cannot keep secrets from us and while you may formulate the strategy, you must allow us equal voice."

"D'accord, mes amis." Danny smiled. "I did not wish to appear managing. Let me explain my plan."

The plan was essentially very simple. They would base themselves at Mervanwey and use the Earl of March's yacht, Dream Girl, to cross to the north Brittany coast. From there, they would travel to Paris along unfrequented country roads. "You will leave me to do most of the talking," Danielle instructed the attentive group. "I mean no aspersions on your French, but there is an accent . . . vous comprenez?"

"Danny, there will be times when we will have to speak," Lord Philip a.s.serted.

"Mais, oui." She shrugged. "I will teach you a regional accent that you may use in emergency and for a short conversation will provide adequate disguise."

"And just how do you propose to persuade your grandparents to lend both house and yacht?" Julian demanded, feeling as if he should provide a brake of some kind to his young cousin-in-law's blithe plans.

"Oh, pas de probleme." Danielle responded confidently. "They will be happy to help once they understand the urgency.

And they will be there for Nicky whilst I am away. It will work perfectly, you will see."

The Earl and Countess of March in fact did what they could to dissuade their granddaughter, but eventually decided that if they did not support her plans she would find some other way to achieve her ends and it were best that they remain involved, offering some kind of family base in Justin's absence. They thought it highly likely that Linton would reject out of hand Danielle's schemes, but their own authority was nebulous in the extreme so they settled for providing a home and guardians for the baby viscount in his parents' absence.

St. Estephe, unaware of these plans, fortunately for his own, made his next move before they left for Cornwall. A messenger arrived late one night in Grosvenor Square and his news confirmed Danielle's urgent determination. D'Evron had disappeared, presumably imprisoned, but all St. Estephe's efforts to discover his whereabouts had failed. Many of those on the list had also disappeared as the National Guard increased its vigilance and the number of its raids on the houses of the aristocracy. St. Estephe would remain in Paris, in hiding, doing what he could to persuade the others to take flight, but it was becoming almost impossible to leave Paris now, as the city gates were manned night and day and pa.s.sports were no longer being issued. There was little that he alone could do, and the message ended with a desperate plea for reinforcements and precise instructions as to how he could be found once they reached Paris.

Danielle questioned the messenger minutely. His story of how he had slipped out of Paris through the Barriere St. Martin hidden beneath a pile of straw convinced her that he had indeed come in secret from the comte and that the comte himself was risking his life every day he remained in that beleaguered city. It was now more than ever imperative that they go to his aid and set up some organization for the safe escape of those who wished it. It was quite clear that groups of royalists would not be allowed simply to walk through the city gates with the blessing of the people any more than Danielle and her friends would be able to leave freely once they were within the city walls.

On the long journey into Cornwall, Danielle and her four cavaliers discussed the situation endlessly. "We must find a small beach on the Brittany coast from which to base our activities," Danielle decided. Dream Girl can remain anch.o.r.ed offsh.o.r.e while we journey to Paris. I do not think we should attempt to bring more than four or five out with us at any one time. Apart from the increased danger of detection, DreamGirl cannot safely carry more than ten pa.s.sengers."

"How the deuce are we to get through the gates anyway?" Westmore demanded.

"Ah, we shall use farm carts. The messenger from St. Estephe has given me the idea. We will be French farmers, gentlemen." Danny smiled in smug satisfaction. "We will enter the city at dawn in the company of all the others with produce to sell and we will leave at sunset with that produce we were unable to sell. We can hide people beneath cabbages or some such . . . that is a mere detail." She waved an airy hand. "If we act our parts well, we shall go undetected. The guards cannot possibly search every farm cart; there are far too many of them pa.s.sing through at those times of the day, and they cannot deny them leave to pa.s.s since the city would otherwise starve. It is simple, is it not?"

"To you, maybe," Julesgrumbled. "How are we to find carts and cabbages, in the first place?"

"We will steal them," Danny informed him outrageously, her eyes twinkling. "Well, perhaps not exactly. We will take them at dead of night, and we will leave money in their place."

"You are quite mad," Julian stated definitively. "And so, clearly, am I."

Succeeding events did nothing to dissipate this conviction. Dream Girl sailed with the evening tide one Friday at the beginning of July under the command of a dour Cornishman who seemed quite unaffected by his extraordinary orders.

"Jake knows the Brittany coast like the back of his hand," Danielle informed her colleagues with a serene smile. "He will find us a small beach where the rocks are not too treacherous and the surf not too high. One of the sailors will row us to sh.o.r.e in the dinghy and then return to Dream Girl. On the tenth day they will look again for us. We shall flash a light from the beach. If we have not done so by the thirteenth day, I have said that they should return to Mervanwey." She shrugged and they all fell silent, occupied with their own thoughts.

Three days and a hundred miles later, near the town of Brest, Jake found what he was looking for. A small inlet in the barrier of jagged cliffs that made up the wild rugged coastline of North Brittany. Dragon's teeth reeks rose high in the water on all sides and the white flecks of breaking water indicated to the wary the presence of concealed reefs. Only a small dinghy could negotiate these hazards, but a rower in such a fragile craft would not be able to handle the tidal streams ripping parallel to the coast. But at the point Jake had chosen, the rocks and reefs stretched only two miles from the unfriendly coast and Dream Girl could sail that far inland without danger, and the dinghy could be lowered beyond the riptide.

It was a black night when the brawny Cornish sailor ran the dinghy onto the tiny beach and they spoke in whispers as if danger lurked in the cove and on the cliff tops rising high above. There could be none, though, Danny rea.s.sured herself. They were too far from Paris and the Breton people were as reclusive as their Cornish ancestors. It was the main reason why she had picked this approach. The Bretons would be unaffected by the revolution; it was even possible that it had escaped their notice in these remote parts. Four men and a boy appearing mysteriously from the sea would perhaps cause a raised eyebrow, but these people were too busy wresting a living from the unfriendly waters and the wind-torn, infertile land to ask questions.

Horses were their first priority and those Danny decided they would acquire legitimately. For the right price, they could be found on the small struggling farms and if her plans worked they could return them at journey's end and use them again on the next occasion. But they could do nothing until dawn, so behind the shelter of a small rocky outcrop beneath the cliff they settled down, wrapped in cloaks, to wait out the night.

Danielle fell asleep almost immediately. She had learned to sleep by the roadsides, in barns, and under haystacks; to sleep with one ear c.o.c.ked for the sounds of approaching danger, until the Earl of Linton had happened upon her and removed all need for such self-protection. Amazingly, though, the old habits rea.s.serted themselves automatically as, once again on her own soil, once again faced with a long and dangerous journey, her real ident.i.ty became subsumed by the simple needs for survival and secrecy.

Unused as yet to any form of discomfort, the others remained awake, saying little as they kept vigil until the sky began to lighten, at first imperceptibly and then with a pinkish tinge to the east. Danny woke instantly, sat up, rubbed her eyes, and grinned at them. "Breakfast," she announced. "Allons-y."

As she had expected, their appearance in the fishing village caused little remark. They were received in a manner that was neither friendly nor hostile. Their money was good and bought them breakfast and horses. Three days of hard riding and three nights of hideous discomfort in the primitive country inns along the road brought them to the outskirts of Paris.

"We must wait until night before we go in search of carts," Danielle stated, turning her mount off the road and into a wood bordering the pasture of a small, well-maintained farm. "They will fill the carts before retiring so that they may make an early start in the morning."

"How do you know that?" Sir Anthony wiped his perspiring brow with the bright checkered neckcloth that formed a part of his farmer's costume.

"Because, when I traveled from Languedoc to Paris, Tony, it was always the way." She dismounted, knotted the horse's reins, and flung herself on her back in the gra.s.s. "We will harness our own horses to the carts and take them back with us to Brittany." She chuckled lazily. "On our next visit, we shall find both horses and carts awaiting us and matters will proceed more easily. We can fill them simply enough from the village markets along the way so that we can enter Paris fully laden and as respectable as can be."

"Y'know, don't mean to be discouraging, Danny, but it seems to me there's a better way of managing this affair." Philip coughed apologetically. "I don't like this notion of stealing ... I mean to say, why can't we just buy two carts? Bound to be somewhere around here where we can do so. Then, if they belong to us quite legitimately, if you take my point, we can do what we like with 'em."

"That, if I may say so, is about the first word of sense I've heard in a week," Jules declared. "No, don't rip up at me, Danny," he begged as she sat up indignantly. "I have no argument with the basic plan, but there's no reason to make it any more complicated than it has to be. Stands to reason. All this about sneaking into stableyards and stealing carts full of cabbages while every dog in the village goes berserk is a bit too fantastical to my mind. You stay here with Westmore and Tony. Philip and I will go off in search of carts. We'll fill 'em with turnips or something."

"Well, why can't I come?" Danny demanded.

"Because two of us can do it just as easily as five and we'll be a lot less noticeable. Besides, it's high time someone else had a say around here. I ain't denying you have it right most of the time, coz, but you do let your imagination run away with you on occasion." So saying, Julian chucked her beneath the chin in an avuncular fashion which left Danny gobbling with indignation and remounted. "Ready, Philip?"

"Well of all the . . .!" Danny stared, for once speechless.

"Now don't get on your high ropes, Danny," Westmore advised, leaning comfortably against the trunk of an enormous oak. "They have the right of it and Jules is not the one to accept a petticoat rule for too long."

"I'm not wearing petticoats," she said crossly.

"What difference does that make?" Tony inquired with some interest.

"I'm going for a walk." Danny stomped off into the woods but her annoyance faded rapidly. She had been ruling the roost and she had become so involved in the adventure that her plans were becoming unnecessarily convoluted. This was not just her adventure, it belonged to them all and if they couldn't work in harmony then they may as well give up immediately. The only hope they had of sc.r.a.ping by in safety was by relying absolutely on each other.

Danielle sat down on the bank of a small stream, pulled off her boots and stockings, and dabbled her toes in the cool water. It had been six weeks since Justin had left. He should be in St. Petersburg now. What would he say if he could see her here? With her hair cropped tight to her head beneath the woolen cap, her body sweaty after six days of travel and inadequate water, her britches and shirt rumpled. She peered disgustedly at her fingernails-the skin beneath was black with dirt and her feet even worse. Justin would not be best pleased, she decided as his face hovered in her mind's eye. She glanced behind her, listened carefully. There was no sound but the droning of insects, the chirp of birds, the rat-a-tat of a woodp.e.c.k.e.r; nothing to see but trees and the ground dappled with the evening sun filtering through the leaves.

With sudden determination, Danny stood up and stripped off her clothes. She could at least take a bath for her husband. The water was gloriously cold, too shallow for complete immersion but she splashed every nook and cranny, prised the grime from beneath nails of fingers and toes and dipped her head, emerging with a luxurious shake of curls.

"Danny? Danny? Where have you got to?" It was Tony's voice, his feet snapping twigs as he plunged through the wood in search of her. Danielle sat on the bed of the stream where the water barely covered her thighs and quite ridiculously wanted to laugh. At any moment Tony would appear and discover her sitting here like some guilty freshwater mermaid! She daren't run for her clothes, he was too close and would be bound to break through the trees just as she was streaking across the gra.s.s.

"Tony, I'm in the stream," she called softly. "Just go away. I won't be long."

"What the devil do you mean, you're in the . . . Odd's blood!" He stood gaping. "A thousand pardons . . ." Stammering, he turned away.

"It's all right, Tony," she said to his back. "Would you bring me my bag? I wish to change my shirt, you see, and can use the old one to dry myself."

Muttering something that sounded vaguely like an affirmative, Tony disappeared the way he had come and Danny sprang from the water, drying herself vigorously with her old shirt and dragging on the britches and thin camisole.

"Danielle?" It was Tony's voice coming cautiously from behind a bush.

"I am relatively decent," she called back, "but if you leave the bag there, I will fetch it myself." She washed the wet shirt in the stream. It would dry in the warm night air and would at least be fresh, if crumpled, when she needed it again.

Tony had some difficulty meeting her eyes when she rejoined them, but Danny chattered cheerfully about the pleasures of her bath, making no reference to his inadvertent intrusion and suggesting that they might care to follow her example while she watched the horses. They went readily and she unpacked their supper from the picnic hamper that they had stocked in a small market town that morning. This night would be their last of comparative safety until they left Paris far behind them on their return to Brittany. They could afford to spend no more than two days in the city, and Danielle, at this point, wanted only to find the chevalier in whatever prison he was held. She would leave the others to locate St. Estephe, to gather together those who would make their flight this time, and prepare others for the next time. They should be able to manage at least one more trip before Justin's return and then, if he would join them, as he surely would, they could bring the Black Gull from Dover and start operating on a much larger scale.

Julian and Philip returned some two hours later, exulting in their success. They had paid a delighted farmer, who had no intention of questioning his good fortune, for two carts and their contents. The fanner was saved a day's work selling in the city and had been paid more than liberally for his potatoes, turnips, cabbages, and lettuce.

At dawn they pa.s.sed through the St. Antoine gate in the company of a hundred others, dressed as they were, driving a long procession of similar' carts, and they received but a cursory glance from the guards.

Danielle had the reins of the leading cart and drove with unerring memory to Les Halles where once she had scrabbled beneath the stalls and carts for discarded fruit and vegetables, had begged for bread from amenable matrons, and held horses for a sou. They all knew what they were to do and spoke little as they placed the carts. Westmore and Philip prepared to sell their wares as Jules and Tony went off to find St. Estephe.

Danielle vanished into the crowd, an urchin no different from the thousands of others roaming the streets, to begin her search of the prisons. She had little hope of success, but the effort had to be made. She tried La Force and the Conciergerie. It was easy enough to gain admittance since little attempt was made during the daylight hours to segregate the prisoners from each other or from their friends outside. The prison guard was undermanned and should have been increased as the prisons filled under the vigilant activities of the comite de surveillance, but nothing had as yet been done and it took the people of Paris to deal with the situation. They chose murderas their means- by killing the prisoners they restored the ratio of guards to their wards. However, it was still only July and that ma.s.sacre was not to take place until the beginning of September.

When neither prison yielded a spark, Danielle tried the Abbaye in the hope that the chevalier would have been accorded the minimal courtesies due to an aristocratic prisoner. By the time she gave up there, it was three in the afternoon and she had to return to Les Halles. The five of them had established an absolute rule of timing. If one member of the group failed to return fifteen minutes after the appointed time then the others would continue with the plan on the a.s.sumption that that member had been taken by the securite. In such an event, it was to be every man for himself, but Danielle strongly suspected that if she did not appear on time her friends would turn the city upside down to find her. In that case, they would probably all find themselves in La Force or the Conciergerie, or even Chatelet, whose very name sent shivers down the back of the most hardened criminal. Accordingly, she made her way back to find them all waiting for her, together with St. Estephe who at first did not recognize the Countess of Linton in the slight, grubby figure who appeared seemingly out of nowhere at his side. Her language was not that of a de St. Varennes either and he listened in amazement to the explicit argot, conscious that his attempts to respond in kind were but a poor imitation.

"We lodge tonight with the family of the Comte de St. Vire," Jules told her swiftly. "He will not leave here himself but wishes to send his wife and children to safety. While we are gone, he will organize others to come with us on the next journey and spread the word. Those who can will make their own way- to the coast in our absence, and when Dream Girl brings us back, Jake can take them to Cornwall and then return for us. He can make the double journey in ten days during the summer months."

"D'accord." Danielle nodded. "You have accomplished much in a few hours, Jules. I, on the other hand, have accomplished nothing." She turned sadly to St. Estephe. "You have no way of knowing where the chevalier is held, comte?"

"None at all." He shook his head. "I have tried for two months, Danny. I will continue my search in your absence and will hope to have him safe and able to accompany you on your return." The promise would bring her back, of that he was sure. He would allow her to make this journey, to set up the means of escape, and he would listen to de St. Vire, find out who else was ready to abandon their native land, and with a grand coup snare them all and take the little de St. Varennes for his plaything.

"If we remain in Paris tonight," Danny said slowly, "we shall not be able to leave until tomorrow sundown. Why do we not take the de St. Vire family out now? It will allow us an extra day to make the journey to the coast, and St. Estephe and de St. Vire can do as well if not better what little we could accomplish tomorrow. It is simply a matter of pa.s.sing the word and making preparations."

"I own I'll rest easier once I'm out of this city," Jules declared. "There is an element of hysteria in the streets that has me as jumpy as a cat with its paws in the fire. The sansculottes are everywhere, ma.s.sed on street corners, parading the alleys, and I do not think they are any friendlier toward farmers than they are toward the aristos."

"No," Danielle concurred. "I have met no hostility, but then I am dressed as one of them. I think, on our next visit, it would be wise for you all to do the same."

"Lud!" Westmore sighed in resignation as he examined her appearance anew. She had contrived to collect a considerable amount of dirt in her journey through the city and wore her shirt hanging outside her ragged britches and her cap at a jaunty angle pulled low over her face. "What a repulsive thought." He sighed again. "But I daresay we must try."

"For now, we must make all speed," Danny said briskly. "The market is closing and if we are to mingle with the. procession to the gates then we must do so quickly." It was true-all around them the farmers were closing their stalls, reharnessing the patient horses to the carts, and packing up unsold produce.

"I will go ahead and tell the de St. Vire family of your change of plan," St. Estephe offered. "You will bring the carts to the alley behind the house where your pa.s.sengers will be waiting for you."

"D'accord." Danny agreed. "In a half hour then."

It was a petrified group waiting in the shadow of the high wall enclosing the St. Vire town house and Julian's heart sank when he saw the infant clutched in the comtesses arms. One inopportune cry from beneath the turnips and they would all be lost. There were two other children, white-faced, solemn-eyed tots of around four and five. The Comte de St. Vire stood with them and stared incredulously as Danny sprang from the leading cart and began to give swift instructions. This filthy little vagabond was going to take his family to safety! He looked helplessly at the four large farmers and one of them, as if reading his mind, winked and nodded.

For an instant the comte had second thoughts and then a drum roll sounded from a nearby lane and a great cry of "Vivent les patriotes!" rent the air. He embraced his wife and children and helped to hurry them into the carts.

"Madame," Danielle said urgently, "you must contrive to keep the babe silent until we are through the gates."

They spread blankets over their pa.s.sengers, then a layer of straw before arranging the remaining produce in seeming haphazard fashion.

"Next time you will come with us yourself, mon ami." Danny whispered to de St. Vire. "Someone else can then continue your work and we will operate a chain in that manner."

The comte looked down at the small grime-encrusted face, the large brown eyes sparkling with intelligence, heard the authoritative cultured voice of one of his own kind and took her hand in a firm grip. "Bonne chance. You will find me ready on your return and the chain in place."

"Qa va. Au revoir, comte." She leapt into the cart and Jules clicked his teeth at the horses and they lumbered in the direction of the Barriere St. Antoine.

Danny, throughout the journey, hopped up and down on the slatted bench, yelling comments to the people in the street in the rough argot that came so easily to her lips. The comments were received with laughter and frequently returned in vulgar kind. As they mingled with the traffic moving slowly toward the gate, she kept up a stream of conversation with their neighbors, jumping in to answer any remark directed to Julian or to the three farmers in the cart beside them. Her four colleagues maintained a dour mien that aroused no remark-it had been a long hard day, after all. As they approached the gate, Danny made a particularly outrageous sally and Jules cuffed her with an exasperated inarticulate growl. Even the guards laughed and shouted friendly advice to Julian as the urchin poured out a stream of indignant protestation at this summary treatment-and then they were through.

"Eh bien, c'est possible." Danielle murmured almost to herself, and Julian shot her a startled glance. It was the first time she had given any indication that she had had doubts as to the success of their enterprise. In fact it was only her unfailing confidence and unflagging spirits that had kept the hounds of discouragement at bay for the rest of them.

Julian made the silent resolve that this would be the last occasion she carried the full burden. They had played their parts, certainly, but except for the matter of the carts they had followed instructions and accepted her cheerful insouciance at face value. Justin would not have done so, Jules reflected. He would have seen beneath the surface to the fatigue and anxiety that now showed clearly in the drawn face and enormous smudged eyes.

"Climb in the back and go to sleep, Danny," he said quietly. "We cannot stop for the night until we are at least twenty miles from Paris. The horses are quite fresh after a day's rest and we will travel further if we are able."

"But you may need me .. ." She looked longingly behind her at the straw and the turnips.

"I do not wish to offend you, ma'am," Jules said dryly, "but I think we may do very well without you for a few hours."

At that she chuckled wearily. "Very well then. I own I am in need of a short rest, but no more than an hour and then I will be quite refreshed again." Danny scrambled into the back where she located the two bodies of the children and whispered encouragingly to them as she burrowed into the straw and slept.

Jules had a brief consultation with his friends and they agreed to press on until after dark, by which time they should be deep in the countryside, safely away from the environs of Paris that seethed with revolutionary ferment almost as much as did the city itself.

They could not risk an inn this close to the capital and when Danielle eventually awoke it was darkest night. She lay for a few moments recapturing her senses, looking up into the panoply of trees. Something was digging into her back and she located the offending object to find that it was a turnip. Memory came flooding back and with it the knowledge that she was ravenously hungry. She sat up blinking as her eyes accustomed themselves to the darkness lightened only by the moon filtering through the trees and the soft glow of a small fire. Two little figures and a larger one cradling a tiny bundle slept wrapped in blankets at the mossy base of a tree. Beside the fire sat Danny's fellow conspirators. The most glorious aroma wafted from an iron pot resting over the embers.

"Ah, Danny, you are awake at last." Philip got up to swing her down from the cart. "We have made our bivouac, as you can see, and have saved you some excellent rabbit stew."

"But how long have I been asleep?" she asked, looking around this orderly scene that had somehow been accomplished without her. "And where are we?"

"Some forty miles from Paris and you have been asleep for six hours. We made good speed," Tony informed her. "Come and eat. Julian appears to have an extraordinary skill when it comes to cooking rabbits and we had no shortage of vegetables."

"How do you know how to cook rabbit, Jules?" She sniffed hungrily at the laden bowl Tony handed her as she joined them. There had been a time when she hadn't cared for rabbit stew-a time when it had been offered her by a friendly innkeeper's wife and Justin had insisted that his servant eat at his table .. .

"John of Danesbury," he responded with a chuckle. "I was something of a favorite of his in my youth, and while the man's a wizard with horses he can match that skill when it comes to the snaring, skinning, and cooking of rabbit."

Danielle nodded without surprise and sc.r.a.ped the bowl clean. How they had'acquired cooking pot, bowls, and utensils seemed irrelevant. She failed to notice the satisfied exchange of nods amongst her companions when she finally sighed with repletion and stretched out on the gra.s.s, smiling in contented relaxation. "Et lafamille?" she asked, dreamily staring into the night sky. "Are they at ease ... in as far as they can be?"

"The countess is a sensible woman." Tony dropped his voice in deference to the sleeping bodies. "She is anxious for her husband's safety but sees her princ.i.p.al responsibility in her children."

Danielle said nothing. She too feared for her husband but she had left her child-their child-certainly in no physical danger but with the possibility of being orphaned. But how could she have done otherwise? She was not like the Comtesse de St. Vire-wife and mother to the exclusion of all else. If those seeds had ever been sown in her, they had never been watered, nurtured to maturity. And so she stood alone, juggling priorities, embracing risks, fighting down the panic when she thought of what she was doing and the effect it could have upon her son and her husband.

Chapter 21.

"Eh, Nicky, tu seras tranquiile, n'est-cepas? Maman aviendra a bientot." Danielle stood on the dock at Mervanwey holding her son as she prepared to go aboard Dream Girl and make the second foray into enemy territory. She was entering her native land now as spy and enemy-a subversive against a regime as tyrannical as the one that held sway under Louis XVI. She cared for this one as little as she had cared for the former but she was no longer too ignorant or too young to do her part for the victims of tyranny. It mattered not that today's victims were yesterday's oppressors. While there was suffering she would do what she must.

An imperative shout came from Jake and she handed the child to Lavinia. "With good fortune, Grandmere, Justin will return in my absence. We shall be home before the beginning of September."

The Countess of March took her great-grandson and kissed her granddaughter. There was nothing to be gained by further protestations and she could pray only for the early return of Danielle's husband and the safe pa.s.sage of the five who now stood on the deck of the yacht waving good-bye as she sailed out of the sheltered harbor and made for the open sea.

This time when they made landfall on the Brittany coast it was an easy matter to retrieve both horses and carts. They found also a small party of would-be emigres who had been contacted by the Comte de St. Vire on their country estates and had managed to make their own way to this remote coastal corner of France. The laconic Bretons had received them with few questions and the dinghy, in response to a flashing light from the cliff top, returned to pick up the group and take them to safety in Cornwall.

The journey into Paris was again accomplished without difficulty and once they were ensconced in Les Halles, Danny set off to mingle with the crowds and learn what she could. Julian and Westmore went in search of St. Estephe and Tony to the house of St. Vire.

There was even more excitement in the streets, Danielle noticed as she slipped through the throng, ears open for the news on every tongue. All five of them now wore the uniform of the sans-culottes-wooden pattens, dirty shirts and cut-off britches-and were indistinguishable from their fellows.

That evening she slipped unnoticed into an epicerie in the Faubourg St. Honore. A cask of wine had been broached and she took her share with the rest. It was the fateful night of August 9, the night when the National a.s.sembly finally fell into the hands of the insurrectionist republicans. She listened as the excitement grew to fever pitch as breathless messengers brought the news, minute by minute, from the a.s.sembly into the streets. Danny sat on an upturned barrel, kicking her heels nonchalantly until the cry went up: "Au Tuileries, citayens."

She joined the group, caught up in the tidal swell of hysteria. She sang the "Qa Ira" with the best as they marched on the palace, the crowds swelling to thousands, pouring through the streets in a torrent of humanity intent only on one thing-the removal of the king from the royalist garrison of his palace and into the hands of the sovereign people.

While the king and his family sought shelter in the parliament house the mob slaughtered his garrison of Swiss Guard who were instructed too late to lay down their arms. Danielle, sick to her stomach, moved amongst the a.s.sa.s.sins, stepped over the bodies being stripped by eager hands, watched as the emblems of royalty were torn down, and generally behaved as if she was one of them until the tumult died down. Then she was able to slip away through the dark streets where the cries of the mob's triumph faded in the distance and she reached the walls of St. Vire's house. The postern gate stood unguarded-an ominous sign, but after what she had seen this night it was not surprising. Their carts, piled high with straw, stood in the deserted courtyard and she nodded in satisfaction.