Mr Ambrose was already up on his feet and moving to the door. ‘Consider it handled. Stay here. Guard the king.’
‘Yes, Sir!’ I said and planted my behind next to the King’s nose, smiling down at him. ‘Comfortable down there, Your Majesty? Don’t worry, Mr Ambrose will handle everything.’
The king’s only answer was a confused little noise from the back of his throat. Outside, Mr Ambrose’s commanding voice rang out over the din.
‘You, you and you! Stay behind, guard the king! You there and you, come with me! We’ve got a gunman to catch. Suivez-moi!’
The sound of trampling footsteps headed away. A moment later, two soldiers appeared in the doorway.
‘Good evening, Gentlemen.’ I smiled up at them. ‘I’d suggest that you—’
Bam! Bam
‘—duck.’
Yelping, they threw themselves to the ground and landed right next to me.
‘Well, well, isn’t this a nice get-together,’ I mused, then glanced over to Lord Dalgliesh who was cowering against the wall, a little paler around the nose than usual for a megalomaniacal tyrant. ‘Want to come and join the group hug, Your Lordship?’
‘No, thank you!’ he hissed, his eyes promising fiery retribution. I didn’t give a crap. Tonight, he wasn’t in charge. This was our show.
Dalgliesh, however, didn’t seem to agree with that. His face suddenly set in determination, he half-rose, carefully keeping his head below the top of the balustrade.
‘I’m going to see what is going on out there. Maybe I can find some reinforcements to help protect the king.’
My spine stiffened. Any ‘reinforcements’ he would find would be his own men. And I could imagine only too well what kind of protection they would offer. I could still remember the horrible first seconds of awakening in Dalgliesh’s captivity.
Instinctively, I moved to stop him, but he already was on his way to the door, and—
—and froze in his tracks when he heard heavy footsteps from outside. A moment later, the door swung open, and Rikkard Ambrose, followed by a single soldier, marched into the box.
‘Mr Ambrose!’ Minister Guizot almost jumped to his feet before remembering that could get his head blown off. ‘What is happening out there? Was it truly an assassin?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Mr Ambrose’s face was set in a grim mask. So, basically, it looked just the same as any other time. ‘We saw him with our own eyes. We chased him through the opera house.’
Guizot’s eyes flicked to the soldier, who nodded, quickly. ‘Oui, oui! C’est vrais!’
‘Who was he? Did he bear any insignia?’
‘No.’ Mr Ambrose shook his head darkly. ‘But he didn’t really need to. His allegiance was quite clear from the way he shouted “Vive la Revolution!”’
The soldier nodded and, forgetting for a moment where he was, spat on the ground. ‘Sans-culotte!’
Over in the corner, Lord Daniel Eugene Dalgliesh had suddenly become very quiet and very pale.
‘A revolutionary agitator?’ the king demanded, half-sitting up. ‘Did you catch him?’
‘I regret to have to answer in the negative, Your Majesty.’ Mr Ambrose bowed his head. ‘We chased him down three corridors and into a powder room, but the only thing we found in there was a terrified lady and an open window. He must have jumped. There are bushes below that could have cushioned his fall.’
‘Mon Dieu!’ the king exclaimed. ‘Poor lady. ‘ow terrible it must have been for her, to have her privacy invaded by such a monster. Was she much disturbed by the event?
‘Madame Chantagnier is somewhat in shock, but recovering. I left one of the soldiers with her, and sent another to alert the gendarmes.’
‘Thank you, Monsieur Ambrose. If that scoundrel can still be caught, it will be tha
nks to your quick and decisive actions. We owe you a great debt.’
Mr Ambrose bowed more deeply than I had ever seen him do before. It was amazing what feats that stiff stone spine of his was capable of. ‘It was my pleasure, Your Majesty.’