She smiled, then turned to rescue her bonnet from the attentions of a floppy-eared goat.
After repelling the goat and his two friends, Diana took note of the children’s delight as they examined the animals nearest them—the goats, three cages of colorful chickens, and five young lambs.
Having been deprived of the ribbons on her bonnet, the goats had noticed Toby and were eyeing him with rather pointed interest. In return, he appeared to be doing his best to ignore them.
Her lips curving, she nudged his shoulder. “I believe you have a story about goats to share.”
He threw her an exasperated look, but the children had heard and demanded to be told all.
Their entreaties drew a heavy sigh from Toby, then he embarked on a long and involved story about his adventures when helping his cousin corral a herd of goats that had invaded a hop field.
Captured by the cadence of his storytelling voice, the five other children who had been traveling with their farmer parents crept closer.
Noting their interest, Toby paused in his telling to recap from the start in Italian, then continued with the tale, describing each action initially in English, then switching to Italian.
Soon, it wasn’t only the children listening, enthralled, and judging by the universal laughter that greeted the triumphant end of his story, Toby had succeeded in entertaining everyone in the carriage.
Several farmers had questions about goats and hops and, Diana thought, about the goats in England.
Feeling even more pleased with the outcome of her strategy, she leant against the wooden panel at her back, and when, with the farmers’ curiosities finally satisfied, Toby leant back beside her, she caught his eye and let her appreciation of his performance show.
Almost reluctantly, he smiled back. “At least those damned goats have proved useful for something.”
* * *
The afternoon was fadinginto evening when the train pulled into Cuneo station. As that was the end of the line, there was no frenetic rush to disembark before the train rolled on. People took their time gathering their luggage and descending to the platform and, in leisurely fashion, making their way through the gate.
Toby was relieved and a little amazed that they’d reached Cuneo without attracting the notice of either Heinrik or the Prussians. He was further reassured to learn that, as when boarding at Torino, those in the livestock carriage were expected to remain aboard until all the other passengers had disembarked and left the station.
“So that we do not discommode them, you see,” one of the farmers’ wives explained.
After his tale of woe with goats had so convincingly broken the ice, he’d relaxed and, courtesy of his customary easygoing nature, had made several new friends. In that, he’d been ably assisted by the children, and by the time they’d reached Cuneo, the entire human contingent in the livestock carriage had become firm supporters.
Along with everyone else, Toby remained seated and, safely screened by those on the platform side of the carriage, kept watch on the travelers leaving the train. Heinrik and Eva were among the first to pass through the gate, their movements unhurried but purposeful, as if they knew where they were going. In contrast, the Prussians appeared furtive and careful as they left the station fifty or so yards behind Heinrik and Eva.
The sight made Toby narrow his eyes. It seemed clear that the Prussians were still following Heinrik and Eva, and Toby wasn’t at all certain that Heinrik was aware of that.
The traitor at the Austrian headquarters might still be active.
Diana jogged his arm and murmured, “What of our pursuers?”
He explained what he’d seen. “They weren’t looking for us.” He was quite sure of that. “I suspect they hope they’re ahead of us and we haven’t yet made it as far as Cuneo.” He met Diana’s eyes. “Heinrik must have guessed—as I’d rather expected him to—and gone to Genoa.” He grimaced. “I’d thought he would have realized more quickly that we hadn’t gone that way, but it seems that he did eventually, and so he’s come here, knowing that Marseille is the next most obvious port for us to make for in order to board an English ship.”
He thought, then ruefully shook his head. “Given how long he’s taken, he must have gone all the way to Genoa, to the docks, and asked around before learning what I assumed he would have more quickly realized, namely that, in the circumstances, Marseille is the obvious port for us to make for.”
She frowned. “Why? You originally thought of going to Genoa yourself.”
“Only fleetingly, because to board a British ship at Genoa, we’d almost certainly have to wait days for a suitable vessel to come in, while British ships are in and out of Marseille every day. I thought Heinrik would have known that and realized more quickly, then gone to Marseille and not found us there, after which he would have rushed north.”
“Ah. So Heinrik and Eva—and therefore the Prussians who are following them—are now working on the assumption that we’re going to be heading to Marseille?”
“Most likely. But what they don’t know is that we’ve arrived in Cuneo. Their first move will be to ask around in the town—it’s not that big—to find out if we’ve been seen, but from the lack of urgency Heinrik and Eva displayed, I strongly suspect Heinrik believes, correctly, that we went to ground somewhere, and he’s assumed they’re now ahead of us. He’s not expecting us to be here, essentially arriving with him.”
“So what now?”
He met her eyes. “Now, we’re not going to stop in town but move on with all speed.”
He thought for a moment, then turned to their new friends and explained their need to leave for France immediately on quitting the station.
