A Prisioner in Paris Read online

  “As it happens, my Lord, there’s a man downstairs, one of them foreigners, who says he’s come to see you on very important business.”

  “A foreigner!” Lord Lanwood exclaimed. “That sounds odd. And I was not expecting anyone, what do you think he wants?”

  “He says it be of great importance, my Lord, and, although he’s a bit difficult to understand, as he speaks a foreign language, I thought as how he was serious in what he was sayin’.”

  “Then, of course, I must see him,” Lord Lanwood said. “I can only hope he does not keep me long because I need some fresh air and exercise.” Yates smiled, although he did not reply.

  As he was helping his Master into his clothes, he was thinking it was always the same when his Lordship had an evening with some beautiful lady.

  He was later getting up, but more eager than usual for his exercise and fresh air.

  It was almost, he thought, although he did not say so, as if his Lordship wished to sweep away the memory and the excitement of the previous night and take himself back, as it were, to what was routine and less absorbing.

  ‘It’s what I used to feel like myself, when I was young,’ Yates thought as he helped his Master into his coat and handed him a clean handkerchief to put in his pocket.

  Without saying anything Lord Lanwood walked out of the room and down the staircase.

  The butler was waiting in the hall and before Lord Lanwood could ask him where the man who wanted to see him was, he said,

  “The caller’s waiting for you in the servants hall, my Lord. Shall I bring him into the study?”

  This told Lord Lanwood without further words that the man was of servant class and therefore not allowed to wait in one of the front rooms, but in his rightful place which was with the servants.

  Wondering who this man could possibly be, Lord Lanwood said briefly,

  “Bring him to me, Ancaster,” and walked towards the study.

  He was thinking as he did so that he had no wish to have a long interview with a stranger when he wanted to be riding.

  He knew by this time that his grooms in the Mews would have been notified that he was dressing and his best stallion would have been brought round to the front door, saddled and bridled.

  He only had to wait a few seconds before the butler opened the door and a man came into the study.

  The sun was streaming in through the windows and his Lordship, standing with his back to the fireplace, was astounded to see that the caller was a rough-looking man with shabby bad-fitting clothes and was obviously foreign.

  A mere glance at his face told his Lordship that the man was in fact French.

  The stranger crossed the room to him.

  Only when he was standing directly in front of Lord Lanwood, did he feel in the pocket of his coat and bring out a crumpled piece of paper.

  “I were told if I gave you this, my Lord, you’d reward me for bringin’ it to you across the sea as quick as any man could come.”

  He spoke in French and Lord Lanwood knew that it was the French of the gutter and he had some difficulty in understanding what the man was saying to him.

  He took the piece of paper from him.

  Opening it, he saw with startled surprise that it was from his nephew, Charles, whom he had not seen for quite a while.

  He was the only child of his elder sister, who had died several years ago and he had, almost as soon as he left school, started to travel as his father had done and which had eventually caused his death.

  Lord Lanwood had been very fond of his sister even though there had been several years difference in their ages.

  He had therefore looked after her son as best he could.

  The boy went to Eton where he insisted on studying languages instead of enjoying the game of cricket as his uncle had done.

  But he had a wandering spirit that he had inherited from his father and it made him spend every holiday, when he might have been riding his uncle’s horses, climbing up mountains or travelling in what Lord Lanwood considered were low-class ships.

  To his delight they took him to different places on the Continent and later to the East Indies.

  By the time Charles should have been enjoying the Social life of London, he was invariably in some obscure part of the world accompanied by strange beings who had no conception or interest in the Society into which he had been born.

  Why he was so different from the other boys, Lord Lanwood had never been able to find out.

  But by now at the age of eighteen Charles and his uncle had little in common and they seldom met.

  In fact, now he thought about it, Lord Lanwood had not seen Charles for almost a year.

  He had paid his school fees and had given him a large allowance that he thought was very generous of him.

  Otherwise he had little or no interest in whatever Charles did or did not do.

  Yet now he had written to him –

  When he read what was scribbled on the piece of paper, he was astounded.

  Charles had written,

  “Dear Uncle Lionel,

  I am being kept prisoner by some very unpleasant robbers who are plotting how they can steal from your home the paintings and other valuables that they have read about in the newspapers.

  They are forcing me to give them descriptions of where these treasures are kept in The Castle and I have to do what they tell me as they are threatening to kill me if I don’t.

  I beg of you to rescue me and I have bribed the man, who will bring this to you, by telling him that you will give him two hundred pounds in French money.

  You will then be able to further bribe him to bring you to where I am being kept prisoner.

  I beg of you to come as quickly as possible.

  Your nephew,

  Charles.”

  Lord Lanwood read the letter once again in sheer astonishment.

  He wondered if it was some extraordinary joke that was being played on him.

  Then, as he looked at the man standing in front of him, he knew that it was impossible not to believe that he was, as he indeed appeared, a shady and rather unpleasant Frenchman.

  “Do you know what is in this letter?” he asked him in French.

  The man shook his head.

  “I no speak English,” he said, “and no read.”

  “The writer,” Lord Lanwood said, speaking slowly in French, “tells me to give you a large sum of money. But he also wants you to take me to the young man who has written it.”

  The Frenchman nodded.

  “I promised much gold,” he said, “and I take you to France, but it very dangerous.”

  He spoke in such a strange way that it was difficult to understand the exact meaning of anything he said.

  He was using a French that had certainly not been taught to Lord Lanwood at school, which he thought was very likely that of the lower classes, especially those who were robbers and felons.

  Speaking very slowly and repeating almost every word several times before the Frenchman understood, he learnt that he had come from Paris and from the poorest part of the City where, when he had been in France, he had always felt obliged to avoid like the plague.

  “First,” he said, “it will take me some time to find the money you want, which, of course, you would wish to have in your own currency. Secondly I am not certain how it will be possible for me to come with you to where you have to go.”

  It took almost ten minutes to make the Frenchman fully understand what he was saying and the one thing that he wanted to be really sure of was that he would have the money he was promised.

  It seemed to Lord Lanwood an enormous sum to give.

  At the same time he was aware that Charles would not have sent him such a strange and peculiar message if there had been a chance of getting in touch with him in any other way.

  He asked the Frenchman to explain to him what the people were like where he had come from and what was their occupation.

  But his French was too good for the F
renchman to understand it and what he said in return was even more difficult.

  Yet there was no doubt that the note had come from Charles and that Charles was in trouble.

  ‘I really have to do something,’ Lord Lanwood now told himself.

  He recognised that he had to save his nephew, but at the same time he had no idea how he could do so.

  Of one point he was quite sure and that was that it would be useless to involve the Police or for that matter the French Embassy.

  He knew enough of the lower side of life in the great Capital Cities of Europe to know that the first person to suffer if he made any fuss would be Charles.

  Because he would speak against them, they would undoubtedly kill him.

  He had heard a great deal at one time or another about the gangs in Paris who preyed on the big houses of the rich.

  A friend of his had had one of his most cherished paintings taken from his house when he was away and his servants, who had tried to prevent the robbers from doing so, had all been wounded. One in fact had died from the injuries inflicted on him.

  Aloud Lord Lanwood said,

  “You shall have the money as soon as I can obtain it from the Bank, but you have to take me to France to find the writer of this letter and I must take someone with me who can speak your language more fluently than I can.”

  It took some time to make the Frenchman fully grasp what he wanted.

  When he did, he nodded his approval.

  “Good! Good!” he replied. “Must be very careful otherwise robbers will be angry and kill us.”

  It was what Lord Lanwood thought really might happen, but it was a shock to hear it put into exceedingly common French.

  It was undoubtedly true and there was no argument to disprove it, so he had to think quickly and was well aware that Charles was not exaggerating when he said that they might kill him.

  He went to his desk to sit down to write a letter to his Bank asking them to provide him with two hundred pounds in French currency in one packet and one thousand pounds for himself in another.

  He then called for his secretary and sent him off hurrying to the Bank, giving him no explanation of why he wanted the money.

  As soon as he had done so, he told his butler and his valet that he was leaving immediately for the country and his castle.

  And he needed his chaise with his fastest team to convey him there.

  Lanwood Castle, which was justly famous for its magnificent treasures had been built in the reign of Queen Elizabeth and was in the County of Sussex not that far from the main road to Dover.

  Lord Lanwood was going there not only because it was the best way he could start on his journey to Paris but also because he wished to discuss the whole matter with the one person he could really trust not to gossip about him.

  He knew without being told that that the French he had learnt at Eton, which was certainly good enough in Society circles, would be of very little use to him when he confronted the robbers.

  He guessed that the man who had brought Charles’s letter was more coherent and maybe a better character than those who had forcibly made Charles their prisoner.

  He thought that the man was getting on in years and had thought it a clever idea to help the Englishman, rather than bully him as the rest of the French robbers were doing into telling him where and how they could loot Lanwood Castle.

  There had been burglars in the past.

  But, as far as Lord Lanwood could remember, there had never been a large contingent of robbers forcing their way violently into The Castle, fighting and perhaps killing those who opposed them.

  Now he thought of it, he would have supposed that his ancestors would have been aware that it might happen and so had taken sensible precautions at the time.

  It was something he now intended to take, even if it was somewhat late in the day.

  It was only when, two hours later, he drove his own chaise and an excellent team of thoroughbred horses out of London, did he think that in the rush he had forgotten to notify the Countess Yvette that he would not be with her tonight.

  ‘I will make my apologies when I return,’ he told himself.

  He knew that it was too late now to write to her or even send a messenger to tell her that he had gone abroad.

  *

  As he was a brilliant driver and his horses were the envy of all his friends, Lord Lanwood reached The Castle in four hours.

  The Frenchman sitting beside him on the journey had been, at first, as Lord Lanwood was aware, somewhat nervous at the speed they were travelling.

  Then, as he realised, as so many other people had before him, that Lord Lanwood was a magnificent driver, he sat back comfortably on the seat and apparently enjoyed the journey.

  Although they were routinely used to their Master’s unexpected movements, his servants at The Castle were astounded when he finally drove up outside the front door.

  There was just a slight pause before the grooms came running from the stables to take over his horses.

  His Lordship, having put down the reins, stepped out of the chaise.

  “I will require a second team after luncheon to take me to Dover,” he told the Head Groom, who stared at him in surprise.

  “Your Lordship be a-goin’ to Dover tonight?” he questioned.

  “Yes, indeed, Ben, and please make sure that the horses can travel as quickly as this team have. I think we have made another record time from London.”

  The Head Groom grinned.

  “Your Lordship never fails to astonish me.”

  Then he looked in surprise at the Frenchman, who was clambering out slowly on the other side of the chaise.

  Entering The Castle, Lord Lanwood gave orders for the Frenchman to go to the servants hall and be given some food.

  “I shall want the same,” he said, “and please send someone immediately to the Vicar to say that I want to see him as soon as he can make it.”

  Without waiting for an answer, he walked up to his bedroom and washed the dust from his face and hands.

  When his valet, who always looked after him in the country, joined him, he said,

  “I want the oldest and most disreputable clothes I have, Jenkins.”

  The man looked at him in complete surprise and he explained,

  “I am going somewhere in disguise and I want to look as poor and as disreputable as the man I have brought with me from London. Take a quick glance at him while he is eating his luncheon and see that I will not look any different from the way he is.”

  Jenkins gave a little gasp, but he was too well trained to argue.

  He then asked,

  “Surely you are takin’ me with you, my Lord?”

  “No, Jenkins. I will find someone there to look after me,” Lord Lanwood replied, “and I will not be away for long.”

  Feeling cleaner but hungry, Lord Lanwood went downstairs.

  He then entered the dining room where a place was already laid for him and a bottle of champagne had been opened.

  He had only eaten one course when the Vicar came into the dining room looking perplexed.

  “I thought you were in London, my Lord,” he said. “But I understand that you have come here unexpectedly and will be leaving almost immediately.”

  “I want your help,” Lord Lanwood told him. “Join me in a glass of champagne, while I tell you all about it.”

  The Vicar sat down at the table and the champagne was poured out.

  “I wish to talk privately,” Lord Lanwood began, “and I will ring the bell, when I am ready for the next course.”

  The butler and two footmen, who had been waiting on him, then left the room.

  As the door closed behind them, Lord Lanwood felt in his pocket and brought out Charles’s letter.

  “Read this,” he said to the Vicar, “and then you will appreciate why I am here and what I am going to do.”

  It took the Vicar a moment to put on his glasses and, after he had read the letter, he said,
/>   “Surely this is a matter for the Police, my Lord.”

  “I am quite sure,” Lord Lanwood replied, “that, if the Police interfere in this affair, Charles will be wounded or perhaps even killed.”

  The Vicar drew in his breath.

  “I never thought of that, my Lord, so you intend to save him?”

  “I want to do so,” Lord Lanwood answered, “but I need to go with someone who is really fluent in French. As you know I can speak ordinary French, but not enough to deceive the robbers into thinking I am one of them. Or to make them understand that I will pay them for Charles or perhaps make them think I want to join in the robbery of my own house.”

  “You must be careful, very very careful,” the Vicar warned him. “From all I have heard of these sort of men, who are looking for big money, they can be exceedingly dangerous if they are opposed in any way.”

  “I have heard that too,” Lord Lanwood replied, “and I hope never to meet them. But apparently they have set their minds on coming here to The Castle to steal and will undoubtedly do so unless I take all possible measures to prevent it happening.”

  “Then surely, my Lord, you only have to have the Police or perhaps members of the Army on duty, who will shoot them down or capture them when they appear.”

  “What do you think will then happen to Charles if he is still with them, as he surely will be?” Lord Lanwood asked.

  The Vicar spread out his hands.

  “I had not thought of that. Of course you are right. You have to rescue him before they come over here.”

  “That is exactly what I intend to do, Vicar, and I need your help. You taught me languages brilliantly when I was a little boy and my German and Italian are indeed excellent.”

  He paused for a moment before he continued,

  “I can also speak the best Parisian French, but I do not understand it very well and they will most certainly not understand me when it comes to the poor and uneducated parts of Paris.”

  “I realise what you are saying,” the Vicar replied thoughtfully. “But, of course, if I came with you, I dare say I could manage to understand such people and make them follow me.”

  Lord Lanwood laughed.

  “I am sure you would. At the same time you are too old and look too benevolent!”