This was not a lie. Apart from Emilia, her mother, and Father Gordon, Adam had met several people of education and culture whom he admired and respected very much, but he loved the ordinary people too.
“About those men you wanted.” Cuthbert’s gray eyes were troubled. “I cannot give you Englishmen, as that would be treason, but I have a friend who once fought with the French forces against England. He is an excellent man in a battle, a seasoned soldier. He can command about sixty men.”
“That is more than enough for our purposes!” said Adam excitedly. “How soon can they get here?”
Cuthbert held up his hand in a warning gesture. “They are mercenaries, Adam. They want to be paid first.”
Adam cursed, then sat chewing his lip for a moment. “How much do they want?”
Cuthbert mentioned a sum and Adam’s eyes widened. He could only get the full amount by selling some of his most costly possessions. However, he reckoned that he could lay his hands on quite a bit of it straight away if he gave them everything he was carrying at that moment. He told Cuthbert, who said nothing.
“Then I can pay them the rest later,” Adam proposed, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice.
Cuthbert, who loved his cousin but considered this a reckless and foolish venture, sighed and shrugged. “I can ask him,” he said. “But I still think you are mad.”
“How long will it take?” Adam asked anxiously.
“I will ask him to come tomorrow and tell you,” Cuthbert replied. “But he may not be prepared to agree to your plan.”
“I will make him agree,” Adam said determinedly.
“A toast to that!” Cuthbert cried, smiling. He took out a bottle of brandy and poured a glass for Adam and one for himself. “To the plan!”
“To the plan!” Adam echoed. “Sláinte Mhath!”
Cuthbert looked at him, aghast. “Do not let anyone else hear you saying that!” he warned. “It is extremely dangerous.”
Adam laughed. “I am still a loyal Englishman, Bert, but I have Scottish friends. That does not make me a traitor.”
“Please let it stay that way,” Cuthbert warned. “I would not like to see your head and your body in two different places!”
Christophe Meunier was a short, dark, stocky man, but what he lacked in height he made up for in ferocity. He had the deepest, blackest eyes, a big hooked nose like a falcon’s beak, and a pair of savage black eyebrows that stuck out a full inch from his face. Adam thought he was one of the ugliest men he had ever seen. He tossed back a glass of brandy as if it were water then scowled at Adam.
“He speaks very little English,” Cuthbert informed him.
“Je parle un petit peu de Français,” Adam offered, smiling.
Christophe immediately smiled widely and Adam began to explain to him in French what he had in mind.
“I think we can accommodate each other,” said Christophe in his gravelly voice. “My men will be glad of the action—and the money of course!”
They laughed, although Adam’s laughter had a hollow ring.
“You say that you will pay us the rest upon completion of the mission,” Christophe said suspiciously. “How do I know you are not lying?”
“Because you know me, Christophe,” Cuthbert cut in suddenly. “You know my word is my bond, and my cousin is the same.”
Christophe nodded, and Adam breathed a sigh of relief.
Adam smiled, then turned his attention back to the Frenchman. “How long will it take to gather them all?” Adam asked, trying not to let his anxiety show in his voice.
Christophe thought for a moment, closing his eyes in concentration and counting on his fingers. “No more than five days,” he said at last.
Adam did the calculation. Five days plus six days to travel. They are few, so it would not take longer that six days to travel the distance he did in less than four. So eleven days in total! That would mean they would arrive before the date that McElwee had proposed that he and Adam would discuss their “plan.” It was all working out perfectly.
“Then I will meet you here in five days’ time and we can travel together,” Adam suggested.
“Excellent,” the little Frenchman said, and bowed. “It has been a pleasure doing business with you, monsieur. Au revoir!”
