These Old Shades (Alastair-Audley Tetralogy 1)

‘Well, I think it is a very good name for him,’ said Léonie, unabashed. ‘He seized me, and threw me into his coach, and I bit him till there was blood.’

‘You distress me, child. But proceed.’

‘I called to Rupert as loud as I could, and I kicked the pig-person –’

‘The Comte de Saint-Vire.’

‘Yes, the pig-person – on his legs a great many times. He did not like it at all.’

‘That,’ said his Grace, ‘does not altogether surprise me.’

‘No. If I had had my dagger I would have killed him, for I was very angry – oh, but very angry! But I had no dagger, so I could only call to Rupert.’

‘The Comte de Saint-Vire has yet something to be thankful for,’ murmured his Grace. ‘He little knows the temper of my ward.’

‘Well, but would not you have been angry, Monseigneur?’

‘Very, infant; but continue.’

‘Oh, you know the rest, Monseigneur! He gave me an evil drink – pig-wash! He called it coffee.’

‘Then let us also call it coffee, child, I beg of you. I can support “pig-person”, but “pig-wash” I will not endure.’

‘But it was, Monseigneur! I threw it at him, and he swore.’

His Grace regarded her inscrutably.

‘You seem to have been a pleasant travelling companion,’ he remarked. ‘What then?’

‘Then he brought more pig – coffee, and he made me drink it. It was drugged, Monseigneur, and it made me go to sleep.’

‘Poor infant!’ His Grace tweaked one curl. ‘But a most indomitable infant withal.’

‘There is nothing more to tell you, Monseigneur. I woke up next day at the inn at Le Havre, and I pretended to be asleep. Then the coach broke, and I escaped.’

‘And what of Rupert?’ The Duke smiled across at his brother.

‘Faith, I don’t think I stopped running till I came here!’ said Rupert. ‘I am still something out of breath.’

‘Oh, Rupert was very clever!’ Léonie struck in. ‘Monseigneur, he even sold his diamond to follow me, and he came to France in a dirty old boat, without a hat or a sword!’

‘Nonsense, silly chit, Fletcher gave me his Sunday beaver. You talk too much, Léonie. Stop it!’

‘I do not talk too much, do I, Monseigneur? And it is as I say. I do not know what would have happened to me but for Rupert.’

‘Nor I, ma fille. We owe him a very big debt of gratitude. It is not often that I put my faith in another, but I did so these last two days.’

Rupert blushed and stammered.

‘’Twas Léonie did it all. She brought me here, wherever we are. Where are we, Justin?’

‘You are at Le Dennier, some ten miles from Le Havre, my children.’

‘Well, that’s one mystery solved, at all events!’ said Rupert. ‘Léonie went ’cross country till the head turned on my shoulders. Oh, she diddled Saint-Vire finely, I give you my word!’

‘But if you had not come I could not have got away,’ Léonie pointed out.

‘If it comes to that,’ said Rupert, ‘the Lord alone knows what would have happened if you’d not caught us, Justin.’