Chapter Thirty #3
He had just attained that door and reached out with his hands to grasp the handle when a shaft of light flooded through the dismal air and a gust of wind hit his face.
“Are you well, sir?” A very young soldier stood before him, his greatcoat swirling with his movements.
“Your man just now rode off the with cart. We’ve been watching all along; Mr. Bennet sent word as soon as you had gone off with that one, and we set up our watch.
” As he spoke, he pulled out a blade from some pouch, and with swift slashes, rendered the restraining ropes to ribbons.
“We have a wagon not far from here if you can walk; we will get you to Colonel Hastings’ rooms at once. He’ll want a word with you.”
Darcy stretched out his legs and rotated his ankles, then did the same with his arms and wrists.
He had not been tied up for so long; the only real injury was to his dignity.
His headache was still present, but not so threatening as it had been before.
He rubbed the back of his neck and massaged his temples.
“Did he make his escape?” he asked of the young lieutenant.
“Aye, that he did, sir.”
“Good. Now let us go to your colonel, for we have much to discuss.”
Hastings welcomed Darcy into his lodgings with a pot of hot tea and a glass of strong port. Darcy, pleased to be inside and no longer in danger, gladly accepted a seat by the fire and asked if there were any willow bark tea, which Hastings was happy to provide.
“This little charade is over, then,” Hastings raised his glass of port in a toast. “Well done. I shall send off a note to your cousin forthwith; he is continuing to talk to the Benoit cousins to see what other information they might have for us. They seem to trust him implicitly, probably due to his fluency in French. He will be pleased to hear that we can set the next stage of our trap into effect.” He sipped at his own black tea as Darcy accepted the cup of willow bark tea from a young soldier.
Hastings spoke on. “You played your part exceedingly well, even if events were a little less civilised than we had hoped. Stanton is on his way with the code machine and the counterfeit discs, and as soon as he decyphers the message and approaches our man with the password, the noose will begin to tighten. We have someone in London who will watch him as well, the better to find out who his associates are.”
Darcy shivered despite the fire and sipped at the bitter tea.
He had not grown so very cold in the cabin that he worried about taking ill, but the fear that had overtaken him still chilled him to the bone.
“I fear it was more than a routine assignment for me, Hastings. At any moment he might have decided his safety was worth more than my life and discharged that pistol. I have never been so close to the muzzle of one, and I hope never to be again. It is not a pleasant perspective.”
Hastings stretched in the firelight. The sun was starting its descent, and the room relied more now on the flames from the hearth and the lamp upon the table than on the waning light from the outside sky.
“That I can believe, Darcy. I have been there one time too many myself, and it is not an experience to be cherished. But be assured, you were never in danger.”
Darcy’s brows rose on his forehead. His expression must have been most eloquent, for Hastings continued, “The cabin was, of course, under surveillance the entire time. Everything that Stanton told you has been overheard and noted down by three of my best officers.”
“That’s all very well for you; you would then have had ample evidence to convict him of the attack and my murder, but I would still be dead. That displeases me, as you might imagine.”
“One of the men hidden in those gorse bushes is a most accomplished marksman. He would have fired the moment Stanton shifted his position to fire the trigger.”
“And still, I was a few short feet away; the bushes are a hundred yards distant and more. At that distance, his shot would have hit me as easily as Stanton. Even our most advanced firearms are inaccurate at that distance. Furthermore, at the sound of the weapon being fired, he would surely have discharged his own and directly towards me!” How could Hastings have acted so callously?
Darcy’s heart pounded heavily in his veins at the very thought of it.
“Ah, but Darcy, Jennings wielded a weapon that in the right hands is both deadly accurate and all but silent.”
Darcy gaped at his friend. “What new marvel of technology is this? I cannot conceive of such a thing!”
Hastings chuckled. “That is where your modern thinking has held you back. Jennings had his eye trained upon Stanton all the while, but his weapon is a longbow!”
Stress, anger, fear, worry and now relief were all churning within Darcy’s breast, and this last comment, so simply offered and unexpected, brought these varied emotions to the fore in a barrage of laughter so violent it was almost crying.
He laughed until his sides hurt, then released a tear or two that would never be attributed to any such unmanly sentiment as panic, and then laughed some more, until his body could withstand no more and his eyes had released all their liquid under the guise of extreme mirth.
“Forgive me, Hastings. That outburst was inexcusable. I was taught better regulation than that.” He pushed his hair back from his forehead as he calmed himself, but the air of unbridled mirth remained. It was most welcome after the day’s events.
“Think nothing of it, Darcy. We all respond differently to such events, and the idea of an ancient longbow besting a modern pistol is rather humorous, ironic in the most absurd way.”
Completely serious now, Darcy asked the one question that still weighed upon him.
“Stanton mentioned that his man—to use his own expression—was stationed within the militia units here, which is how he was able to observe us without anybody noticing an unexplained stranger in the area. Your men will have heard his account of it. Do you have any notion who this might be? I believe he was one of Forster’s men. I know him by sight but not by name.”
Hastings levelled his grey eyes on Darcy’s. “He definitely was not one of mine. Each was specially selected by me for such special assignments as this. I have known them all for a very long time or have had them thoroughly investigated. I would swear he is none of my men.”
“Then he must indeed be in Forster’s regiment.
That crew is made of whoever enlisted or could afford a commission.
It would be easy enough to purchase some lieutenant’s stripes with Stanton’s wealth.
And Stanton said he had heard of my skill at drawing from somebody who knew me in my youth.
.. Oh Lord!” He collapsed back into his chair as the world swam again before his eyes. “Not Wickham!”