Caprice and Rondo - Dorothy Dunnett [333]
Then the early darkness had arrived, and the lanterns were lit, and the uneasiness concealed by the glittering lights communicated itself to the children of the Hof Charetty-Niccolò, so that Tilde’s baby screamed, and her five-year-old banged a plate until it broke, and Jodi, Who had been excruciatingly active all day, threw a fit of temper more to be expected from Lucia than from a trainee swordsman of eight. Mistress Clémence, with his mother’s leave, took the boy out to the back yard, which gave access to the stables, and Catherine’s optimistic herb garden, and eventually to the canal gate, for which she had providently brought the key. It seemed to Clémence that a courteous host might lend his barge to a convalescent who had paid him a visit. Doctors seldom gave thought to such things.
So it was with no surprise that, after the ice-breakers had gone, and a vicious competition with snowballs had palled, and close acquaintance with an angry swan had been discouraged, Jodi’s attention had been attracted to the sound of a boat crackling up to the bank, to the accompaniment of pleasant men’s voices. Then the boat, a private one, drew away, and uneven footsteps began to approach. Jodi said, ‘Who is it? Is it the dog-catcher?’ His voice was strong now, and not at all shrill. The steps slackened.
Mistress Clémence said, ‘It might very well be the dog-catcher. Are you catching dogs, sir?’
It was a clear night. Light from the handsome houses that lined the canal pooled on the towpath and wharves, and bridge lanterns created uncertain scallops in the dark water. The disembarked man was tall, cloaked, and wore a fur hat which shadowed his face. He said, ‘If I caught one I’d eat it, I’m so hungry. No, demoiselle. I’m a soldier.’
‘From the Lorraine wars?’ said Clémence with interest. ‘You weren’t at Nancy?’
Jodi had become very still. He said, ‘My father fought at Nancy. The other boys say he didn’t.’
‘Maybe I saw him,’ said the man. He had come to rest, his face still in shadow, his head a little inclined. ‘My troops were in the centre, in the battle-corps of the Duke. We did our best, but we were beaten.’
‘The other side had twice as many,’ said the boy. ‘So I heard.’
‘But we should have done better. Do you live near here?’
‘Up that lane. It leads to the back. Don’t you know?’ Jodi said. Clémence smiled, saying nothing.
‘I haven’t been here for a long time,’ the man said. ‘You get to know other places well, even though you’d rather stay at home. Then you forget.’
‘Shall I take you?’ said Jodi. Clémence’s smile broadened.
The man said, ‘If you want.’ He paused, and added, ‘I haven’t forgotten you.’ They were moving slowly into the lane. Clémence walked ahead.
Jodi said, ‘You were away a long time.’
‘I know. I won’t do it again. Do you think they’ll want me back?’
‘I can hunt,’ Jodi said.
‘That’s what I thought,’ the man said. ‘I’m not bad, myself. I do remember this gate. Jodi, I’m afraid to go in.’
‘Why?’ said the boy. He turned, and the light from the house fell on the faces of the boy and the man. The eyes of both, which were of the same colour, were shining.
Jodi said, ‘I’ll take you. They won’t be angry. They’ll be glad to have you back.’ He caught the man by the arm, and started to run, exhorting breathlessly still. He ran to the house, passing Mistress Clémence and bursting through the back door, dragging the man stumbling with him.
‘Maman! Maman!’ bellowed Jodi. ‘Papa’s back!’
PAPA WAS ALLOWED to be back, it transpired, for one night. How much longer depended on the discussion — the examination — the trial — his former partners wished to hold forthwith, it appeared.
Nicholas had agreed to it. After his precipitate entrance, he had managed some social exchanges: a few words with Clémence; a few more with Catherine and Tilde, who had greeted him with a solicitude which might have been genuine, and a caution which certainly was. Gelis was allowed a little longer.
He always knew where she was in a room: it was like surf reforming into a wave. Her face had turned the