The Song of the Siren

Sometimes I went riding with Hessenfield right out to the barriers which marked the boundary of the city. They were made of pine wood and iron and there were sixty of them enclosing Paris and there were customhouses at the river’s edge.

The days began to pass and all that time I was aware of Hessenfield’s eagerness to learn that his business was satisfactorily completed. He was not generally one to doubt success so I gathered that this was an operation of paramount importance. I did not mention that I noticed his preoccupation. I was determined that we should share that immense joy which I found in his company and which did not decrease as the weeks passed.

One day we had been with Clarissa in the carriage and had been out beyond the city into the countryside. It had been a very happy day. Clarissa scarcely mentioned Benjie now. She was as entranced by the new life as I was.

We arrived at the hotel in the late afternoon. One of the servants met us in some agitation.

There was a gentleman from the Court who urgently desired to see milord.

Hessenfield pressed my hand. “Take Clarissa up to the nursery,” he said.

I went.

In a few minutes he was up there. He said: “I have to go to St. Germains at once.”

I nodded.

“I don’t know how long I shall be. Back tomorrow, I expect.”

He was back the next day.

It was late afternoon. I heard him arrive and went down to meet him. I saw at once that something was wrong.

We went straight up to our bedroom. He shut the door and looked at me.

“Disaster!” he said. “What?” I stammered.

“Our men went right into a trap. They were waiting for them when they landed. Everything is lost ... men, arms, ammunition ... all.”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“How ... ?” I began.

“Yes,” he said fiercely. “How! How did they know the exact spot where they were to land? Somebody betrayed them.”

“Who could?”

“That’s what I have to find out.”

“Was it someone in England ... someone pretending to be with you while working against you?”

“It was a spy, all right. But not over there, I think.”

“Then where?”

“Here.”

“Here! But nobody knew. Who could possibly? You did not even tell me. It must have been someone over there.”

“I think it was someone here.”

“But who?”

“That is what I am going to find out.”

The following day Hessenfield went back to St. Germain-en-Laye. I tried to behave as though nothing had happened but I could not stop thinking of those men who had walked into a trap and were now probably in the Tower or some prison awaiting sentence, which would certainly be death. I was concerned for Hessenfield, who had cared so passionately that the arms which he had been given by the King of France should have been lost, but what was most disturbing was that some of their most gallant men had been taken.

I had never seen him so sad before. It was a new side to this character.

I went to the nursery.

“Where is my father?” asked Clarissa. She always called him my father. I think it implied that she had only recently acquired him.

I said, “He has gone to see the King.”

“He left in rather a hurry,” said Mary Marton.

“Oh, yes,” I answered. “Important business.”

“He looked a little distrait, I thought,” said Mary.

I lifted my shoulders.

Clarissa said: “Where are we going today?”

“I want to buy some lace,” I said. “Mademoiselle Panton”-she was my couturiere-“wishes to trim a dress with it and for once she is most anxious that I should choose the colors.”

“I expect it is unobtainable,” said Mary with a laugh, “and she will want to blame you because you will have to take a substitute. ‘It was of Madame’s choosing,’ “ she said, imitating Mademoiselle Panton to perfection.

“Mary can be Mademoiselle Panton and Jeanne and me ...” said Clarissa looking with admiration at Mary.

We all went to choose the lace. We came back to dinner, and then in the afternoon Clarissa slept and I rested in my bedroom, reading. It was the quiet hour when everyone was either eating or digesting what they had eaten. By five o’clock the streets would be noisy again.

I wondered what Hessenfield was doing and what measures he would take to find out who had betrayed them. It was disconcerting to discover that there were spies in our midst.

It was a lonely evening. It was at times like this that I realised how much I missed him.

I was now deeply in love with him. Our union seemed to be perfect; he was what I had always wanted; I believed I was the same to him.