British Light Dragoon (Napoleonic Horseman Book 3) Read online

  I could see he wanted more information. “I took it from its previous owner after I had killed him. It was in the campaign at the Texel.”

  “And you sir. Where do you serve?”

  “I serve in Austria and they have now given me a job there.” He pointed to the school. “I use my knowledge to help plan. May I sit sir?”

  “Of course.”

  “That is why I asked you about the British. You see we have no-one over there who could tell us how they fight and what they are like as enemies. We know that they are better now than when we fought them eight years ago.”

  “Yes but they are now on their island. It is unlikely that we would be fighting them.”

  “Perhaps that is true now but the Channel is a very narrow stretch of water.” He grinned, “It would be quite easy to cross it.”

  “Ah yes but they have their admiral, what was his name? Ah yes, I remember, Nelson. Surely the navy would have something to say about it.”

  “True but we have our own men who can defeat this Nelson. Admiral Villeneuve is just such a man.” He finished his drink. “Are you sure I can’t persuade you to join us in the school?”

  “I am afraid that I am a man of business now. I import and export wines.”

  “Then I envy you. Good day sir.”

  After he had gone I paid and left. Sharp was outside and he looked agitated. I began to walk back to the river. I waited until the street was quiet and slowed down. “What is it Sharp?”

  “You are being watched sir. There were two men in dark coats outside the bar and they were watching you talking with that captain. They are still behind us sir.”

  “How do you know?”

  He smiled. “They smell different sir. They wear, you know, perfume.”

  “Well done. We will not head directly back to our hotel. We will walk towards the Sorbonne. Are you armed?”

  “Yes sir. I have my bayonet and a knife.”

  “That will have to do.”

  As we turned a corner to head down a side street I turned to view the two men. Trooper Sharp had been correct. There were two men and they were about a hundred paces behind us. They were definitely following us. Dare we try to lose them? The alternative was to do something about them. I knew that Trooper Sharp was a good soldier but I had no idea how he would cope with a deadly fight in an alley. I knew that I had to speak to the two men and find out why they were following us. That meant luring them into somewhere where we could do so without being seen. My knowledge of Paris was not the best but I vaguely remembered an old and gloomy church not far from the Louvre. There was a bridge nearby which would enable to us to flee to the island in the middle of the Seine if we had to.

  “Right Sharp, I want to begin to slow down and let them catch us. I need some answers. I will be speaking in French so keep your silence. You will know when I want you to do anything.”

  I heard him take a deep breath and he said, “Sir.”

  “Don’t worry Trooper, you handled the highwayman. This will be easier. They aren’t on horses.”

  The streets became gloomier as we entered the warren of alleys and narrow roads around this old part of town. There were fewer people around and the ones I saw looked to be up to no good themselves. They might pose a problem once we had dealt with these two but I would have to cross that bridge when I came to it.

  As we slowed I could hear their feet on the cobbles. I suddenly saw, to my left, a blind alley and I darted quickly down it. As soon as I was around I stopped. Trooper Sharp kept on. I heard the sound of feet running after us. Trooper Sharp stopped when he realised I was no longer close behind him. The two men hurtled around the corner and saw him. I hit one with my fist and he collided with the other wall and fell in a heap. The second man made the mistake of going for a weapon. I grabbed his free arm and pulled him towards me. His head cracked into the wall and he too fell down.

  We could have escaped then but I did not want to be pursued by these two. “Grab the first one and disarm him.”

  I searched my man and found a pistol and a sword. I disarmed him and threw them to one side. He began to come too. “Who are you and why were you following me?”

  He had a ferrety face and a squeaky voice. “I am the police and you are in trouble.”

  I laughed, “In trouble for protecting myself and my servant? You are wrong. It is you who is trouble.”

  It was his turn to laugh. “I recognised you. You are the bastard son of the aristo. You are wanted for murder and I will claim the reward. As soon as I saw you near to Les Invalides I recognised you. You cannot escape.”

  At least he did not know where we were staying. I took off his belt and tied his hands behind his back. I whistled and got Sharp’s attention. He nodded and did the same to his unconscious man. I took the man’s scarf off and gagged him before he could protest more and begin to shout. I think I took him by surprise. Perhaps he thought we would just have fled. I took off his shoes and, as he raised his head, hit him hard on the side of the head. He fell down in an unconscious heap.

  “Right. Get their weapons and their shoes and follow me.”

  He did so without a word. I knew he would be wondering what the problem was but I had no time to explain. When we reached the bridge over the Seine we threw the boots and weapons into the waters and hurried across towards our hotel. As the Conciergerie loomed up I remembered when I had been incarcerated there. If I was caught again, this time there would be no Napoleon Bonaparte to save me.

  The owner was surprised to see me. I smiled. “I am sorry sir. I will have to pay and then we must leave. I have had some bad news and I must return south to my home in Provence.”

  As soon as I said I would pay he relaxed. He did not care where I was going; he could rent out our room and make more money. I led the horses south as I had told him and crossed the Seine. Then we headed along the river and crossed back over the river at Notre Dame. Sharp was in the dark but we had to be out of the city before the police started a hue and cry.

  Luckily for us it was a busy time of day and many people were moving along the streets. We went at the same speed as everyone else. The last thing we needed was to attract attention. The gates to the north of the city were jammed. A wagon bringing in goods had broken its wheel just inside the gates and it was mayhem. The guards were busy shouting at the poor carter and I could see that we could not escape that way.

  A baker stood in the doorway of his shop laughing and shaking his head. He saw the two of us and said, “If you go over there,” he pointed to his right, “there is a small gate. You’ll have to lead your horses but you can get out.”

  “Thank you sir. I am indebted to you.”

  Poor Trooper Sharp had no idea what was going on save that he saw the gesticulations. When I saw that the small postern gate was still open I almost shouted out with joy. We dismounted and left the city. Night was falling quickly along with a light drizzle which promised an uncomfortable journey north. As we left the outskirts of Paris behind us I wondered what to do for the best. I had no doubt that the police would be looking for us. I hoped that they would head south but I could not count on that. I thought of heading for the more familiar country around Breteuil but that was out of the question as they associated me with the death of Mama Tusson and her Russian lover. No we would have to return the way we had come and that meant risking the soldiers at Beauvais. My new career as a spy for Colonel Selkirk could be the shortest one yet.

  Chapter 6

  A few miles from Beauvais I took a side lane on the right of the main road. I had no idea where it went but I reasoned that if we rode along it for some miles and then kept taking a left turn, eventually I would rejoin the main road; hopefully beyond Beauvais. We were like ghosts in the night as we tried to get as far from Paris as we could on our poor mounts.

  “Sir, mine won’t get us much further. She’s about all in.”

  “We can’t stop but let us try leading them for a while.”

  In the end it
proved a blessing. We kept turning left at each junction and we reached the western outskirts of Beauvais. It was quiet and there were few people around. We were able to slip back along the main road and continue leading our horses. I held my finger to my lips. I did not want our voices to carry. The only sound was the gentle clop of the horse’s hooves on the road. I was just about to remount when I heard hooves coming from the direction of Beauvais. I grabbed Sharp’s shoulder and pushed him into the hedgerow. Had we been mounted then we would have been seen. As it was we were invisible in the dark.

  It was a courier who rode by. I recognised the uniform. He was whipping his horse dangerously fast along the darkened road. I wondered if he carried news of us to Calais. If that was the case then we were in trouble. When his hoof beats had faded I gestured for Sharp to mount and we continued along the road. I knew from our earlier journey that the next part of the road was devoid of houses and habitation which meant we could risk riding again.

  Suddenly I heard the distant crack of a pistol. I drew my sword and hurried on. The gunshot might attract someone from Beauvais but I did not want us stumbling into something dangerous whilst unarmed. We turned a bend in the road and saw three men standing over the courier. His horse had wandered off and they were searching his pouch. They were robbers.

  “At them, Sharp!” I think the use of English confused them for they stared at us as though we were monsters.

  We kicked our horses on and the three men stood looking like startled hares. I barged my horse into one as I slashed down at a second. I saw a pistol from the third man lining up at my head. Sharp’s knife flew through the air and transfixed him. The man I had knocked down jumped to his feet and ran towards the courier’s horse. He mounted it and scurried off across the fields.

  “Search the bandits.”

  The courier was still alive although death was not far away. I could see that his life was oozing away through the hole in his stomach. “Thank you sir although I fear those felons have done for me. I pray you take these despatches to the admiral at Calais. They are most…” Then he died.

  “You have done your duty, sir.” I closed his eyes and laid him back down. I picked up the pouch. I felt guilty. He had thought I was a friend but I was an enemy. Fortune had favoured me that night. “Right Trooper Sharp, let’s go. That bandit may have friends. We will have to risk these animals. We now have urgent information for Colonel Selkirk.”

  At least the message was not about us. There was a chance, perhaps, that we might be able to reach Calais and escape detection. Our good fortune ended with the storm which battered us as we neared the coast. I could tell that we were not receiving the worst of it although it was bad enough. Any ship caught at sea would be in serious difficulties.

  It was mid morning by the time we reached Calais. The storm was still buffeting the town and the rain sliced down like sabres. The cold sleet seemed to penetrate every pore. The good news was that it kept people’s heads down and we entered the town unobserved. We went directly to the stables where the surprised owner looked at the two nags he had sold us.

  “I didn’t expect you back so soon.” He looked dubiously at the sorry looking horses. “You have ridden them hard.”

  “They are horses and are there to be ridden. I believe you owe us some money now.” I hated having to be so ruthless but I was playing the part. A business man would not allow himself to lose money. For my own part I would happily have returned them to him. Eventually we agreed a price. I think he thought he had robbed us but I was satisfied. I was concerned that he not remember us.

  We headed for the bar the captain of the boat had told us he used. As he had only sailed back the previous day I was not hopeful that he would be there and each moment we spent in Calais increased the risk of our capture. The bar was poorly lit and was filled with sailors who had just come ashore along with those seeking employment. It meant that they all left us to our own devices. I bought some drinks and transferred the documents from the courier’s pouch to my coat. We would dispose of the pouch when it was convenient.

  Suddenly I noticed that the landlord was paying us rather too much attention and he was talking with a stranger who had only just arrived. I dared not risk being trapped in the bar. I whispered to Trooper Sharp, “Drink up.”

  I had noticed that my companion never panicked and obeyed every order instantly. I had made a wise choice. I did not want to head back down the quayside to the town and so I headed along harbour towards the ships. I was just looking for a vessel which might be heading across the Channel although anywhere out of France would do. I glanced behind me and saw the landlord and the stranger watching us. This would not do. I scanned ahead to find an escape route. There were only warehouses to the right and I did not wish to enter one only to find that I was trapped.

  I noticed that there were far more ships in the harbour than there had been when we had arrived. Many of them looked storm damaged. My hopes of finding the same ship faded. It would probably have taken shelter in Dover.

  Trooper Sharp suddenly said, “Those men; they are following us.”

  I looked over my shoulder and saw that there were now three men following us. Ahead of us I saw the customs officers and their desk. That meant we were trapped. We could not pass them and we could not go back. I contemplated drawing my sword but that would have done us no good whatsoever. Then I heard a voice I recognised, “Mr Macgregor, what are you doing here?”

  I saw Richard, who had been the First Mate on the Witch, Captain Dinsdale’s ship. “Thank God Richard! Where is the Witch?”

  I looked down the line of ships and did not see Captain Dinsdale’s ship. He laughed and shook his head, “She is in Sicily.” He pointed to the ship tied up next to us. It was called ‘The Star’. “This is your ship sir and I am the captain.”

  I felt relief but recognised that we were still in danger. “Sharp, get the bags on board. Richard, we are in danger. I am a wanted man.”

  Richard was a giant of a man and many people took his size to indicate slowness of mind. They could not have been further from the truth. “Get aboard then sir.” He cupped his hand as he shouted to his men, “Hoist the foresail. Cast off forrard.”

  We raced aboard. His crew might have been shocked at the captain’s orders but they obeyed. The wind caught the little foresail and the bow edged away from the harbour as I scrambled aboard with Richard and the gangplank was yanked on board. I saw the Customs officers point at us and the two National Guardsmen aimed their muskets at the ship. The men who had been following us ran towards the last line which held the ship to the shore.

  “Cast off aft! Hoist the mainsail.”

  Thankfully the seaman was able to throw the line ashore. I don’t know if we would have been able to carry out the manoeuvre had the wind not been so strong but the ship suddenly leapt away from the land like a spurred horse. The two muskets popped ineffectually at us and we were safe.

  Richard came over to me grinning. “You are the most interesting owner I have ever met. You are lucky that I had to call in at Calais last night for repairs.” He pointed at the carpenter who was still making a new spar. “We hadn’t quite finished. Still all’s well that ends well.”

  “Don’t count any chickens yet, captain.” I pointed to the Customs officers who were racing to the guard boat at the end of the harbour.”

  “You and your man had better get below. We don’t want you in the way do we sir?”

  I suppose I could have taken offence but I knew that Richard was a good sailor and I would be in the way. “Very well Captain. Come along Trooper Sharp, let’s go to the cabin.”

  The ship was very similar to ‘The Witch’ and I found the main mess easily. “Best make ourselves comfortable, Sharp. We are being chased.”

  He laid the bags down and then said, “This is your boat sir?”

  I nodded, “Well half of it is anyway.”

  “Then why are you a soldier sir? Couldn’t you just live off the profits?”


  It was a thought which had flickered through my mind before. “I could but I enjoy the life in the cavalry.”

  He smiled, “There are rumours in the barracks that you have served before. Even Uncle Jimmy says that. I know you have, sir.”

  “Well the less you know the better.”

  “Some of the lads reckon you did something awful in another regiment and have rejoined under a false name.”

  “Which would be silly as, if that was the case, then I would risk being identified by a former comrade. However, let them think that, Sharp. It will stop their speculation.”

  I took the opportunity of looking at the documents intended for the admiral in Calais. When I saw the seal and the signature I knew that we had struck gold. It was an order from Bonaparte himself ordering the admiral to prepare to supply Admiral Villeneuve’s fleet. They were to capture Haiti and Louisiana. If they did that then France would become far richer. My trip might have been a short one but it had been fruitful; if we could evade the guard boat.

  I knew when we had left the harbour for the ship began to pitch and toss alarmingly. Sharp’s eyes widened in terror. “Do not worry trooper. The captain is a good seaman.”

  I could hear orders being shouted and the noise of sails being hoisted. Then I heard the unmistakeable pop of small cannon. I waited for the crack which would tell me that they had been lucky and struck us. There was nothing and then we heeled so much that Sharp fell from his seat. He had a shocked look upon his face as though he thought we were sinking. There was another couple of pops but mercifully no hits.

  After another half hour or so a messenger came from the captain. “Captain says you can come on deck if you like. The Froggies have given up.” He laughed. “Last we saw they were bailing like buggery!”

  The deck was slick with water but Richard had rigged ropes as handrails and we made our way aft where the huge skipper was steering the ship himself. He gestured with his head, “The open sea was a bit much for them. The French are not good sailors.”