Page 243 of The Armor of Light

‘The enemy was almost on us. The wounded man’s comrades had no time to console him – they were firing their muskets and reloading and firing again as fast as they could. I knelt beside him and told him he was going to heaven. He spoke, and I had to put my ear to his mouth to hear his words, because of the crash of the muskets and the boom of cannons. “Heaven?” he said. “Am I, really?” and I answered: “Yes, if you believe in the Lord Jesus.” Then I suggested we should say the Lord’s Prayer together. “Don’t worry about the noise,” I said. “God can hear us.” That was when he told me he did not know the words.’ Tears came to Kenelm’s eyes as he remembered. ‘Can you imagine?’ he said. ‘He couldn’t say the Lord’s Prayer.’

Elsie could imagine it. New children coming to Sunday school sometimes did not know who Jesus was. It was unusual, but not unknown.

‘I held his hand and said the prayer for him, and by the time I got to “Thine is the kingdom, the power and the glory,” the boy had left this world behind, and gone to a place where there is no war.’

‘May his soul rest in peace,’ said Elsie.

*

Spade was bowled over by the Passage des Panoramas in Paris. There was nothing like it in London. It was a walkway, paved and glass-roofed, lined on both sides with shops selling jewellery, lingerie, bonbons, hats, writing paper and more. It ran from the boulevard Montmartre to the rue St-Marc. At each end stood a burly man in uniform – in England he might have been called a beadle – to keep out ragamuffins and pickpockets. Elegant Parisian women, and many from other countries too, could shop without getting their hair wet in the rain or their shoes muddy from the tons of muck on the streets. An added attraction was a rotunda featuring panoramic paintings of famous cities including Rome and Jerusalem.

Arabella was enchanted. She bought a straw hat, a scarf and a box of sugared almonds. Spade led her into a shop selling luxury fabrics: silk, cashmere, fine linen and mixtures, in many colours and patterns. He took from his pocket a stiff card that said, in French, that he was a manufacturer of exceptional cloth for high-end gowns and he would be glad to show the manageress some samples at a time of her convenience.

She replied in rapid French. Abe, who was fifteen and learning French at Kingsbridge Grammar School, asked her to repeat what she had said but slower, and then he translated: ‘She would be pleased to see you tomorrow morning at ten.’

Spade bowed and thanked her in French. His accent was terrible but he gave his most charming rueful grin and she laughed.

When they stepped outside the arcade Spade sensed a change in the atmosphere on the street. Some people strolled idly along, but others were deep in excited conversation. Not for the first time, he wished he understood the language.

They passed a woman sitting at the roadside by a table loaded with newspapers for sale. Spade’s eye was caught by a headline that said:

NAPOLÉON A FUI!

He asked Abe: ‘What does that say?’

‘I don’t know. Bonaparte did something, obviously, but I don’t know what.’

‘Ask the vendor.’

Abe pointed at the headline and said: ‘Madame, qu’est-ce que ça veut dire?’

‘Il a échappé,’ she said. Seeing that they did not comprehend, she tried several times more. ‘Il est parti! Il s’est sauvé! Il a quitté son prison!’

Abe said to Spade: ‘I think he’s escaped.’

Spade was astonished. ‘From Elba?’

The newsvendor nodded frantically. ‘Oui, oui, oui!’ Waving a goodbye hand, she said: ‘Au revoir, Elba! Au revoir!’ Then she cackled.

They knew what that meant.

Spade said: ‘Ask her where he’s going.’

Abe said: ‘Où va-t-il?’

‘Il est déjà arrivé en France! Au Midi!’

Spade bought the paper.

Arabella looked distraught. ‘How could this happen? I thought he was guarded!’

Spade shook his head, baffled and worried. Surely the man could not make a comeback? ‘Let’s return to our lodgings,’ he said. ‘Someone there may have more news.’

They were staying at a boarding house run by a French man with an English wife, and therefore popular with English tourists. When they arrived, everyone was in the sitting room, talking animatedly. Spade showed them the paper, saying: ‘Can anyone read this?’

The landlady, Eleanor Delacroix, picked it up and scanned the story. ‘This is extraordinary!’ she said. ‘Somehow he managed to assemble a small fleet of ships and an army of a thousand men!’

Spade said: ‘There was an Englishman who was supposed to guard him.’