Page 28 of The Count’s Charade

Wooferton exchanged a glance with Mayberry, who coughed in an embarrassed fashion and stepped in. “Now, Miss Grace, you know as well as I that if the fellow is a Frenchie, it’s more than Wooferton’s job is worth not to take him in.”

“But he is an invalid! How will you care for him? Where will you put him, Mr Wooferton? In your upstairs room, where the noise and bustle from downstairs must disturb him? Perhaps you have the intention of handing him over to those dreadful Frenchmen!”

The excise officer looked pained. “Now, Miss Grace, I never said as I’d do that.”

“But you wish to arrest him,” she persisted. “Upon what charge? He has done nothing. You would be better employed in arresting those horrid men who are undoubtedly to blame for his condition.”

“Be that as it may —”

“Well, he can’t do that, Miss Grace.” Mayberry thrust out his head. “They’ve got papers as gives them immunity. I seen them. Nor I can’t arrest them on suspicion of attempted murder, much as I’d like to, without evidence. If this here Frenchie was to identify them, mind —”

“He won’t do that.” Grace did not add that Henri knew them of old, and had once called them his friends. By the same token, she was sure he would not betray them to a foreign law. “Where are they, by the by?”

“At the Black Horse,” replied Wooferton.

“And you think to take Henri there? How, pray, will you prevent them from killing him?”

Both Mayberry and Wooferton eyed her, the latter in surprise, the former with suspicion.

“Is that his name?” asked the parish officer. “You never said it before, Miss Grace. Nor you never told me he was French.”

“Because I knew this would happen,” said Grace with defiance. “Yes, I concealed his nationality, Mr Mayberry, and I don’t care if you arrest me for it. I wanted to ensure he had a chance to recover his strength.”

Mayberry took on an avuncular manner. “Now, Miss Grace, did I say as I blamed you for it? There ain’t no question of arresting you, even if you was impeding an officer of the parish in his duty. Only now the feller is known to be French —”

“You don’t care whether he’s well enough to be dragged from his sickbed or not, is that it? Pray, Mr Mayberry, have a little compassion! You saw his wound. You know how much blood he lost. He can barely stand on his own two feet, let alone walk.”

The two men again exchanged glances, this time of exasperation. Grace pursued her advantage.

“What do you propose to do, take him out of here in full sight of that Frenchmen outside, whom we know to be searching for him? You will make us both out to be liars, Mr Mayberry, for you allowed my tale he had left that first night to stand. Worse, you will let those murderers know his whereabouts and make of him a target. Do you wish his death on your conscience?”

“But he’s French, Miss Grace,” came in protest from the parish officer.

“Who’s to say he ain’t a spy?” challenged Wooferton.

“He may as easily be an émigré,” Grace pointed out. “Indeed, if the French authorities are after him, it is only too likely.”

Balked, the officers stared at her. It was evident this had not occurred to Mayberry. But Wooferton looked interested. “Has he said anything? Does he speak English?”

“Yes, but he will tell me nothing,” Grace said truthfully.

“Seems to me as I’d best interrogate the man,” decided Wooferton.

“You may do so to your heart’s content, but only when he is well enough to answer your questions.”

“Which might be when he’s good and gone?” suggested Mayberry with a touch of irony.

Grace eyed him narrowly. “Would you care to explain what you mean, sir?”

The parish officer ran a harassed hand over his face. “Lookee here, Miss Grace. If it were down to me, I’d say let the feller go and welcome. I’d stake my oath you ain’t one to misjudge a feller and I dessay there ain’t no harm in him. Only it ain’t down to me. There’s Sir James to be thought on, along o’ Mr Wooferton here. And I had ought to’ve told Sir James at the start. I ain’t got no choice now I know as he’s French.”

“But I have,” said Grace. “This is my house, and Henri Rousselle is my guest. You will not remove him, either of you, until I am assured of his safety. Is that understood?”

Wooferton sighed. “Thing is, Miss Grace, as you ain’t got no choice in the matter, if’n I bring a warrant.”

Grace put up her chin. “Then get one, Mr Wooferton. You will not take him else.”

The excise officer threw up his eyes. “It’s right stubborn you are, Miss Grace. Very well then. But it’s only fair to warn you as you’d best not let him escape afore I have a chance to question him.”