‘We succeeded in stopping the French advance, if you call that winning,’ said Kit. ‘But the Prussians didn’t do quite as well, and they’ve marched away. That freed Bonaparte to come at us sideways.’
‘Yeah, but what’s the point of running? He’ll only chase us.’
‘True. But we’ll turn and fight, eventually. It’s just that Wellington wants to choose the battleground.’
‘Hmm.’ Jarge thought about that for a minute, then nodded. ‘Makes sense.’
They were marching north up the coal road, but the retreat was threatening to turn into a stampede. In Genappe, a village with narrow streets, the ambulances going back to Brussels had collided with artillery and food wagons heading for Quatre Bras. To add tothe confusion, panicked local residents were fleeing towards Brussels, driving their cattle before them.
A lieutenant and thirteen grenadiers cleared the traffic jam by emptying the food wagons, throwing the supplies away, and sending the wagons back to Brussels loaded with wounded men.
Sal wondered what they were going to eat when they got to Mont St-Jean. As a precaution, she retrieved a discarded fifty-pound sack of potatoes from a ditch and tied it to her back.
Soon after midday the rain started again.
*
In Brussels the rain came down in torrents. Amos pulled his hat down low to keep the water out of his eyes; still he had to wipe his face with his handkerchief constantly, otherwise he could hardly see. The roads were jammed with carts, some bringing wounded men to already overcrowded hospitals, others loaded with ammunition and other supplies and trying to leave the city to reach the army. Ambulance drivers unable to get through the traffic around the hospitals just dumped the wounded on the elegant streets and squares, and Amos had to pick his way around the bodies, some still alive, some dead, as rain washed their blood into the gutters. Residents of the city panicked, and as he passed the Hôtel des Halles he saw well-dressed men fighting for tickets on barges and coaches leaving the city.
He went to Jane’s house, intent on renewing his plea to her to take Hal back to England. His visit was unnecessary: she was packing her trunks, wearing an old dress, her hair tied up in a scarf. ‘I have a carriage and horses in the stable here,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave as soon as Henry gives me the word – if not sooner.’ She did not seem frightened so much as cross, and Amos guessed she was sorry to be leaving her young beau. Trust Jane to see the war principally as an irritating interruption to her romance. Amos remembered how muchhe had adored her, and for how long, and it now seemed to him incomprehensible.
He went from Jane’s house to Elsie’s. He hoped to find Elsie doing the same as Jane, packing to leave. He could hardly bear to think about the danger she was in. He wanted her to leave this nightmare city today.
But she was not packing. A council of war was in session in the drawing room. Elsie, Spade and Arabella looked solemn, anxious. Amos said immediately: ‘You must go, Elsie. Your life is in danger.’
Elsie shook her head: ‘I can’t leave. My place is with Kenelm, and he’s risking his life a few miles from here.’
Amos despaired. Elsie did not love her husband, he knew; but he also knew that she had a very strong sense of duty. He admired that in her, but now it might cause her to risk her life. He feared she was determined to stay. ‘Please, Elsie, reconsider,’ he said.
She looked at Spade, her stepfather.
Amos wanted Spade to exert his authority as head of the family and insist that Elsie leave. But he knew that was not Spade’s way.
He was right. Spade said to Elsie: ‘You must follow your heart.’
‘Thank you.’
Arabella was on Amos’s side. She said: ‘But what about the children – my grandchildren?’ There was fear in her voice.
Elsie said: ‘They must stay with me. I’m their mother.’
‘I could take them back to Kingsbridge.’ Now Arabella was pleading. ‘They’d be safe with me and David.’
‘No,’ Elsie said decisively. ‘We’re a family, we’re better off together. I can’t let them out of my sight.’
Arabella turned to Spade. ‘What do you think, David?’
‘I’m sorry to repeat myself, but I think Elsie must follow her heart.’
‘In that case, I’m staying here too. But you could leave, David.’
He smiled. ‘I’m not leaving you,’ he said in a voice that did not invite argument. ‘I must follow my heart, too.’
There was a long moment of silence. Amos knew he had lost.
Then Elsie spoke. ‘So that’s that,’ she said. ‘We all stay here.’
*
