“All right then. Ten o’clock? We can walk there. It’s not more than ten minutes away.”

“I’ll be ready.”

We went to the mercer’s shop and were some time choosing the lace. My mother also bought some pale mauve and pink ribbons which she thought would be useful for the babies’ clothes.

As we came out of the shop she said: “I know what we’ll do. We’ll have some coffee or chocolate. I do think the coffee houses are interesting.”

I agreed with her that they had become a part of London life and they were more than just a place to stop and take a drink of coffee or chocolate. One could eat there, read the papers which were available for clients, could write letters and most of all listen to the conversations of the great. Certain coffee houses were frequented by people in various walks of life; there were the political coffee houses, literary coffee houses, musical coffee houses, and there people could congregate and join in discussions on their favourite topics. Sometimes well-known men of wit and erudition frequented them. In his day Samuel Johnson had held court at the Turk’s Head or the Bedford or Cheshire Cheese; and Walpole and Addison had rivalled Congreve and Vanbrugh at the Kit Cat.

The coffee house we chose was only a few steps from the mercer’s. It was Benbow’s—named, I heard, after its founder, who had made a fortune at the gaming tables. At this hour of the day there were no wits present and I imagined the house was probably used by people like us who merely wished to stay for as long as it took to drink our coffee or chocolate.

When we went in we were effusively greeted by the owner. He knew who my mother was and she told me afterwards that she had been in the place with Dickon on their last visit to London.

He ushered us to our seats. “Here in this little alcove you will view the company in comfort,” he added with a little wink.

“This is my daughter,” said my mother.

“I am delighted to make your acquaintance, my lady,” he said.

He bowed with great dignity and I said: “And I to meet you.”

We were drinking the excellent chocolate when my mother said suddenly: “Oh dear, I’ve left the ribbons at the mercer’s.”

“We must go back and get them when we leave here.”

“I’ll run back now. It won’t take long. You stay here.”

She rose and Mr. Benbow came forward.

My mother said, “I am going to the mercer’s just along the street. I have left a parcel there. My daughter will wait for me here.”

“I will take the utmost care of her in your absence, my lady.”

I laughed. “Oh dear. Is it so dangerous?”

He lifted his shoulders. “Not exactly dangerous, but with a beautiful lady, gallants can be tiresome. I will guard her with my life.”

“I hope that won’t be necessary,” said my mother with a smile.

I looked about the room as I finished my chocolate. A man came in and sat down. As soon as he did so I had a strange sensation. I fancied I had seen him before, but for a few moments I was at a loss. It must have been a long time ago. It would have been in France. But who? Where? My mind went back to the château. That was it.

I had it. It was the tutor who had come long ago to teach Charlot and Louis Charles. Or if it was not, it was someone very like him.

I had been young at the time but this man had created quite a stir. I remembered he had left suddenly to go and look after his aged mother. And much later, when my mother had gone back to France and was in such acute danger, she had discovered that he had been a spy in the château, and it was due to him that the Comte’s son, Armand, had been taken to the Bastille.

I must have been staring at him for he was looking at me now. Clearly he did not recognize me. I had been a small child when he was at the château. It was coming back vividly to me now. There could be no doubt. He was the spy-tutor and his name was… I racked my brains. Then it came to me in a flash. Léon Blanchard.

I felt very uneasy. He had been a revolutionary. An agitator. Then what could he possibly be doing in Benbow’s Coffee House?

My heart gave a lurch, for someone else had come in. I almost cried out. It was Alberic.

He went straight to the table at which Léon Blanchard was sitting. He sat down and said something. For a few seconds they talked and then Alberic looked up and saw me.

I called: “Alberic…”

He rose. “Miss—Claudine—” he stammered. He was obviously shaken. “I—I—am doing a commission here for Mademoiselle d’Aubigné. Are—are you alone?”

“No, my mother is here. She will come in a few minutes.”

Léon Blanchard had risen. He moved towards the door.

“I must go,” said Alberic. “Good day, Miss Claudine.”

He followed Léon Blanchard out of the coffee house.

They had not been gone more than a minute or so and I was still sitting there in a state of bewilderment when my mother came in clutching the ribbons.

“I have just seen something rather strange,” I blurted out. “Alberic came in here. He was meeting a man. I thought I recognized him. I’m almost sure. It was Léon Blanchard, the tutor. Alberic left in a great hurry. They both did.”

My mother turned pale.

“God help us,” she murmured under her breath. Then she said: “Léon Blanchard… and Alberic. That can mean only one thing. I think we should go back without delay. Dickon must know of this at once.”

By great good fortune, Dickon and Jonathan were in the house, though just about to go out.

Breathlessly my mother explained what had happened.

Dickon was dumbfounded.

Jonathan looked at me incredulously. “Are you sure…?”

“Sure it was Alberic, of course,” I replied. “He spoke to me. The other one… Well, I was puzzling over him and then it suddenly came to me.”

“It makes sense,” said Dickon. “And there isn’t a moment to lose. Now… how best to act.” He looked at Jonathan and went on: “They’ll both go into hiding. Alberic must have had a shock to see Claudine, and Blanchard will be afraid that she has recognized him. He was obviously scared of being seen by Lottie. Then there would have been no doubt. It may be that Alberic will try to get to France.”

“Taking information with him, no doubt. He must be stopped.”

“And what of Billy Grafter in our own household… recommended by Alberic. We’ve had them both under our roof. That explains the visit by the Cardews. We know what they got away with. God, how careless we’ve been.”

“No use going over that now,” said Jonathan. “How best to act is the point.”

“You should leave for Eversleigh right away. Alberic may have certain things to clear up there. He may even have left something in Enderby. He’ll have to warn Grafter. There’s a possibility that he’ll have to go back to do that. On the other hand he may stay in hiding here in London.” He was thoughtful for a second. “Yes, Jonathan, you go back to Eversleigh. I shall have to stay here for a while. We’ve got to find him. If we can, it might lead a trail to the rest of them. I’d like to get Blanchard. But there is a possibility that Alberic will try for France. He is thoroughly identified now. What fools we were to be deluded by that old émigré story. How soon can you leave?”

“In half an hour.”

“And er—take Claudine with you.”

“But why?” I asked.

“I don’t know how long I shall be here. Lottie naturally will stay with me. It would arouse comment if you stayed on with us after David is back at Eversleigh. No, this is the best. There’s no time for discussion. We have to act quickly. I’ll take care of these things, and if he’s not here we’ll scent him out. He’s got to be stopped getting back to France.”

Jonathan said crisply: “I’ll see that the horses are made ready. Claudine, be ready in half an hour.”

I was bewildered. My mother came to my room to help me prepare.

“It seems so… dramatic,” I said.

“It is. I accept it. I was caught up in France, remember. That man Blanchard went round the country inciting the French to revolution. He and his kind were responsible for my mother’s death. I narrowly escaped through Dickon’s courage and resourcefulness. What happened in France must not happen in England, and that is what men like Blanchard and Alberic are trying to bring about. We have to help. We have to do all we can, and if we don’t always understand at the time, we have to wait for explanations later.”

I could not believe that only yesterday I had been sitting on a riverbank watching the water flow by, philosophically talking to Jonathan.

The horses were waiting for us. “You should get a good way by tonight,” said Dickon. “Then go to an inn and rest for a few hours, but be off with the dawn, and you might with luck reach Eversleigh by early afternoon. He can’t get there much before you.”

We went through the city, past the Tower—grey, gloomy and menacing; then we were away. Jonathan looked different, very determined. It was fortunate that I was a good rider. The bantering mood of yesterday was gone and in its place was one of intense seriousness. He was going to get Alberic… if that young man had decided to return to Enderby.

All through the afternoon we rode, stopping only to slake our thirst and eat a little cold lamb and bread. Then we were off again.

It was about ten o’clock that night when we pulled up at an inn. Our horses were flagging and I wondered if Jonathan was as tired as I was.

They had only one room. At any other time I should have protested, but we had to eat and sleep if we were going to make the long journey next day.

We ate in the inn parlour. As it was late, there was only cold food—mutton pie—and ale to drink. It was enough, and I was almost asleep over it.

There was only one bed in the room. I took off my boots and fully dressed lay down on it and was immediately fast asleep.

I was awakened by a light kiss on my forehead. Jonathan was standing over me.

“Wake up,” he said. “Time to be off.”

Then I remembered where I was and sprang up.

“We won’t stop for food,” he said. “We’ll try to snatch something on the way.”

We went out to the stables; our horses had been fed and watered and were rested. They were as frisky as ever.

As we rode out, Jonathan laughed heartily. I asked what was so amusing.

“It has just occurred to me. I have often thought of spending a night with you… to find you lying there beside me when I awoke. I’ve imagined that often enough, and when it does happen, all we did was sleep. It’s funny, you must admit. Come on. With luck we’ll make it by early afternoon.”

The journey was long and arduous. Twice we stopped for light refreshment but mainly to rest the horses. It must have been two o’clock in the afternoon when we reached Eversleigh.

“First,” said Jonathan, “we’ll go to the stables and get fresh horses. These have done enough. Then we’ll go to Enderby. I want you to find out whether Alberic is back. It will come better from you. Don’t let them know we want to see him urgently. There may be others of his friends in the neighbourhood. We don’t want them warned.”

“Don’t you think he would have got away by now?”

“He might. But he hasn’t had much time. He couldn’t have beaten us here by much, even if he left immediately after seeing you in the coffee house. Come on.”

We went through the gate and into the stables.

One of the grooms came out to greet us.

“We want fresh horses, Jacob,” said Jonathan. “Quickly, these are tired. We have to go out immediately.”

“Yes, sir. You’ve come back and, master…”

“Never mind now. Get the horses and see to these two… They’ve had a pretty long ride.”

“Shall I tell the household you’ve returned?”

“Do that. Is Billy Grafter about?”

“I’ll see, sir.”

“If he’s there, make sure he doesn’t go away. I want to talk to him seriously… but not now.”

“Right, sir.”

“Make sure you have him ready for me. Lock him in one of the rooms so that he doesn’t stray.”

All the servants at Eversleigh had learned to obey Dickon without question, and I could see the same applied to Jonathan.

Twenty minutes later I rang the bell at Enderby and one of the servants opened the door.

“Oh, Mabel,” I said. “I’m not calling to see my aunt. I just wanted a word with Alberic.”

“You’ve just missed him, Mrs. Frenshaw.”

“Missed him! He’s back from London then?”

“Only just a little while ago. He’s been in and out again.”