Anthony and the stocky man with the limp travelled some distance into the woods east of Paris in silence, but when they were sure they were not being followed, Anthony halted the donkey and turned to his companion.

"I ffought that went thplendidly, didn't you?"

"Perhaps take the false teeth out now, Sir Anthony" the other man replied, as always rather unflappable.

Anthony chuckled as he removed the horrid things.

"Oh, yes! That's much better. Bates: you have been an absolute Godsend in these past weeks. We could not have saved as many as we have without your information. From the bottom of my heart, thank you." He shook his hand warmly. "And thank God that you were able to leave Robespierre's house, but what does this Chenault, he's Robespierre's secretary, yes? what does he suspect?" As he spoke, Anthony jumped from the cart and began to untie the wicker basket.

"Just that I seem to be making a lot of inspections of the Dauphin's, ahem…residence. He's not particularly astute, but he is persistent. I think we may have acted only just in time."

"Good that we did then. I'm very relieved that you have come through unharmed thus far."

He loosened the final ropes and carefully opened the basket. The Dauphin himself, the little boy who was now Louis XVII, was crouched terrified inside.

"Your majesty." Anthony's voice was exceedingly gentle.

"Pardon?" whispered the boy.

"We are friends of yours from England. With your permission, we will convey you to a place of safety where you can recover from your experiences."

"I…" but Louis seemed completely dazed. Anthony took some bread from one of the other baskets and broke it. He gave one half to Louis and took a bite from the other half himself. Then he nodded to the boy encouragingly. The boy king needed no further reassurance that the food wasn't poisoned, and ate ravenously.

Anthony looked up to Bates.

"Take the cart, make as much progress as you can today. Don't enter any buildings until you are safely over there. Sleep with the cart. There's enough provisions for several days for you and extra fodder for the donkey. Send me word when you've arrived, and God speed."


.

The gentlemen of the League tasked as back-up for the Dauphin's rescue arrived an hour later for their rendezvous in the clearing where Anthony waited.

"Is all well, Anthony? We didn't receive the signal, so we assumed you didn't need us" asked one, dressed as a French cavalryman as were they all.

"Everything went according to plan. Bates is now on his way with Louis."

"We should go with them!" said another.

"One man and a boy on a donkey cart will not raise suspicion. But you lot will! No, the safest thing is to join up with the other group and hope that all has gone as well with them and that they have Tom Branson. We'll take the northwest road and on to the coast together as agreed."

He took the reins of a spare horse and, after checking that all the company were alright and ready, he mounted and led his men away.


.

"Where is the rendezvous, Mr Crawley?"

Chauvelin was seated comfortably at a bulky table in a private room at an inn. His fingers were steepled in front of him, his eyes closed. Matthew, however, was roped to a plank facing away from the table to disorientate him, and each time he slumped they poked at him with their bayonets.

"Monsieur, I cannot say any more than what I have stated already. I do not know."

It enraged Chauvelin that, for the second time in a week, he was interrogating a man who would prefer to be tortured or to die rather than betray his damned leader! This was wasting valuable time and getting him nowhere. There was a better, more effective way of persuading this infuriating lawyer to give up The Pimpernel.

"Mr Crawley" he rose from the chair and prowled towards the only female occupant of the room, her hands tied behind her. "Lady Strallan is your sister, and your leader's wife." The sudden fear in the young man's eyes was the final confirmation that Chauvelin needed that his deductions about Sir Anthony were correct. "Bring her over here and gag her."

The soldiers thrust Edith towards the table behind Matthew.

"I will give the order that one of her fingers be cut off at the knuckle, and I will give that order again every sixty seconds until either we run out of fingers or you tell me what I want to know!"

Matthew was completely thrown by this cruelty. He couldn't believe that Chauvelin would actually carry out his threat. He heard Edith sob "Don't, Matthew, don't worry about me. Protect Anthony!" as she was gagged, and that was, indeed, his first instinct: to be loyal to Anthony. However, he was driven to panic at the thought of ever facing Edith again, or Anthony, or even Mary if so horrible a thing happened.

But he had taken too long.

Chauvelin shouted "Do it!" and Matthew heard Edith's scream of pain…

"Please! The rendezvous…is at Mont St Michel. Dear God, stop!"

Chauvelin walked smugly back into Matthew's line of sight.

"Thank you, Mr Crawley. Very sensible, but I still do not trust you. Lady Strallan has other fingers I can take." He turned to the Captain. "Tie his hands and put them both in the coach, and we shall see how truthfully he has answered. If not…" Chauvelin left.

Matthew was untied from the plank and his hands were bound. He looked at Edith, the breath emptied from his lungs, not daring to glance at her hand.

"Oh Matthew!"

"I had to tell him. I …"

Edith held up her hand for him to see.

"They hit my thumb with a pistol butt. It hurts, but I have all my fingers."

The proud lawyer and heir to an earldom, broke down and wept.


.

"Tom! Are you…how are you? Did they break any bones?"

"I'll not be playing Hurling any time soon, but I'm alright."

He wasn't alright, and Anthony could see that plainly. He was shocked by the sight of Tom, bloodied and bruised with one eye swollen over, but he was overjoyed to see him alive.

"We will get you back to England as soon as we can. Can you ride alone?"

Geoffrey shook his head furtively behind Tom's back.

Before Tom could speak, Anthony continued "I think it might be best if you ride with me." When Tom started to protest, Anthony insisted "This is not for you. All of our lives depend upon our being able to reach The Mount before the next tide." With that he helped his brother-in-law up into his own steed's saddle and sat behind him on the horse's rump. As they got going again, Tom began to tell Anthony his tale, but with the exertion of riding it merely caused him to cough.

"Don't try and talk until we get there, Tom. I shan't be able to hear you."

Heavens, if I had known that he'd be so wounded I would have sent Bates and Louis off with horses and brought the cart with me. If I ever meet with that damned Chauvelin again…

Anthony set a deliberately slower pace than they had taken until they met up with Tom's group, but it still seemed almost too much for the Captain. It took several hours more than Anthony had hoped before they arrived at Mont St Michel.


.

Immediately they had entered into the monastery's courtyard, the Abbott had met them and ushered Tom in where the Brother Infirmarian could tend to his wounds.

While the rest of the League looked to their horses and began to rest after their long journey, Anthony and the Abbott spoke in hushed tones.

"You really think he would have the audacity to come here and do this?"

"Reverend Father, I fear he would dare to do much more than that. I expect him to either lay siege to the Mont, or to invade and search with or without your permission. I know that he has at least a brigade of infantry at his disposal. Might I once again urge you and your monks to leave the Mont until this is all over?"

"I am loath to leave my Church, but the safety of my brothers is paramount. Sir Anthony, if you believe that Chauvelin is so debased that he would attack…"

"I'm afraid I am convinced that that is exactly what he would do, without a moment's hesitation."

"…then I shall take your counsel and go over to the mainland. We have flocks that graze there and Brother Shepherds who can offer us shelter for a day or two."

"I am very relieved to hear that, sir."

"How long do you think we have before he reaches here?"

"Two, perhaps three hours. He will be making better time than we did."

"Then I shall make haste." He raised his arm in benediction. "May God preserve you, and all your friends, my son, and bring your mission to a successful conclusion. Farewell."

Anthony watched the older man go into his monastery to gather his flock. At least the holy men would not be involved in what happened now.


.

The Infirmary was as peaceful as the rest of the monastery. Tom lay on a bed hissing at the sting the Brother's astringents were causing on his open wounds. When the monk left, Anthony took his seat.

"Try to rest, Tom. It's only a few more hours until the tide, and then we'll be on our way home."

"I can't…I keep thinking…How's Sybil? How's the baby? Does she know I'm here?"

Anthony nodded. "Yes, she knows. I told her. She's bearing up and the baby is fine. They are fighters, Tom. You can be proud of them."

"Yes, that she is. But I'm ashamed of myself. And angry. Why did I risk everything, all that happiness, my future with her? Wife and child…perhaps, in time, children. I…I've caused her so much pain when I should be protecting her!"

After a tense quiet, Anthony answered "This will be the last time I accept your services. I should not have allowed you to continue after your wedding."

"And you?" Tom asked.

"Me?" Anthony whispered guiltily.

"I told you what Edith told Sybil. I know you, Anthony. You said there was nothing to be done, but I'll wager you did something. Because you love her. I know it."

"Yes, you're right; I do love her…with all my heart and soul I love her. I did try to do something, but this mission – and your rescue – prevented me from…"

"I know this work is important to you, Anthony, but sacrificing your marriage for it? I can tell you, from the experience of the last few days, it isn't worth it."

"But…the rescue of a king…?" Anthony breathed.

"Don't misunderstand me, I feel for the poor mite, but he'll never be king, not after this…this terror. Saving a boy, yes. Just so long as you know you were not saving a monarchy."

"Perhaps, who knows, but the possibility is still there while he lives."

"And Edith…?"

Anthony sighed.

"Just so you know, I spoke to Sybil concerning what her mother told me about the events leading to their arrest at the château. I now know that I was wrong to take Lady Grantham's word for what happened. She was as much mistaken as everyone else. Well, everyone apart from Sybil: the only person who knew the truth. Before I left Edith tried to do more to close the gap that I had allowed to come between us…that I had encouraged in my stupidity. If we get out of this alive, I will make sure that gap never exists again. But I fear that I may have killed off any feelings she may have had for me, and it's all I deserve."

"I know Edith, and I know she loves you."

The two brothers-in-law smiled painfully at each other. Anthony gently patted Tom's shoulder as he rose.

"Get some sleep. I'll fetch you when it's time."