The Juncto.

The Commerce of the World, especially as it is now carried on, is an unbounded Ocean of Business; Trackless and unknown, like the Seas it is managed upon; the Merchant is no more to be follow'd in his Adventures, than a Maze or Labyrinth is to be trac'd out without a Clue.

-DANIEL DEFOE, A Plan of the English Commerce

Dundalk, Ireland.

6 SEPTEMBER 1689.

To Eliza, Countess de la Zeur From Sgt. Bob Shaftoe From Sgt. Bob Shaftoe Dundalk, Ireland Dundalk, Ireland 6 September 1689 6 September 1689 My lady, My lady,I am speaking these words to a Presbyterian scrivener who followed our regiments down from our points of disembarkation around Belfast, and has hung out his shingle on a hut near Dundalk camp. From this, you may draw what conclusions you will concerning which matters I will address straightforwardly, and which I will speak not of.A queue of soldiers begins at my left shoulder and extends out the door and down the lane. I rank most of them, and so could keep the scribbler busy all day if I chose, but I will address important matters first and try to conclude our business directly so that the others may send greetings to their mums and mistresses in England.Your letter of June 15th reached me just before we embarked for Belfast, and was read to me aboard ship by a chaplain. It is well that I made your acquaintance and took your measure in the Hague, or I would have dismissed its contents as idle and womanish chatter. Your stylings are finer than the discourse that one is accustomed to hearing aboard a troop-ship. All the blokes who overheard it were gobsmacked that such pretty phrases had been directed to one such as me. I am now reputed to be a man of parts, and a fellow with many high and mighty connexions.Upon listening to certain phrases for the third and fourth time, I collected that you had run afoul of a French count by the name of d'Avaux, who had obtained some knowledge of you that put you in his power. The Revolution in London had caused this d'Avaux to be recalled suddenly to France. Later the unfortunate Count was despatched to Brest, the remotest port of France, and loaded aboard ship in company of none other than Mr. James Stuart, who was formerly known as James II by the Grace of G.o.d of England, etc., King.Off they sailed to the sophisticated metropolis of Bantry, Ireland. Later you had news that they had a.s.sembled an army of Frenchmen, Irish Catholics, and Jacobites (as we now refer to James's supporters in Merry England) and established themselves in Dublin.You are too courtly, my lady, ever to come out and say what you mean directly, and so the exact meaning of your letter was unclear to me and is unclear still. As I was situated in London, and your letter was addressed thither, you cannot have known that I'd have it read to me during a pa.s.sage to Ireland. during a pa.s.sage to Ireland. Or perhaps you are so clever and well-informed that you antic.i.p.ated this. Surely it could never have been a request for my help? For how could I give you any aid in such a matter? Or perhaps you are so clever and well-informed that you antic.i.p.ated this. Surely it could never have been a request for my help? For how could I give you any aid in such a matter?Brother Jack begat two sons by a strapping Irish la.s.s named Mary Dolores Partry-he must have told you. She died. The boys have been raised by the kin of their late mum. I have made efforts to know them and to tender such support as I might-for example, by recruiting a few of their uncles and cousins into our Regiment. My life as a soldier has made me a poor uncle indeed. But the boys, who have inherited their dad's weakness to impulses of a perverse kind, and who have been raised by Irishmen to boot, seem to respect me all the more, the more I neglect them.Last year, Jim Stuart, then King, conceived a malignant distrust of his very own English regiments, and brought in several Irish ones to put down our Revolution (which he styled an uprising). These were phant'sied, by ordinary Englishmen, to be Crusaders, ten feet tall, bearing French bayonets red with English blood, led by Jesuits, controlled directly from Rome, yet just as wild in their ways as Irishmen ever were.My Presbyterian scrivener is giving me the evil eye now, for making light of them. His folk have oft felt besieged in various corners of Ulster by such-by your leave, sir, put it down just as I have spoke it.'Twas an even worse time than usual to be Irish in England, so all the kinfolk of Mary Dolores, including Jack's boys, took pa.s.sage on the first ship they could find that was Ireland-bound. This happened to set them down in Dublin-the wrong part of the island by far, as the Partrys are Connaught folk and seafarers. But Dublin they found more to their liking than they had foreseen. They'd raised two generations in London and grown used to city ways. During the same interval Dublin had grown to thrice its former size. Now these people, and Dublin, suited each other.No sooner had they established themselves than James arrived with his motley Court, and his French generals began offering gold coins to any man who would join the Jacobite army. They had recruited a horde of naked bog-trotters whilst sloshing across the island and were calling them an army. Imagine, then, how pleased they were to encounter these fellows who had served in a Guards regiment, learnt to fire muskets, and fought in battles! Those fellows-not my in-laws, since Jack and Mary Dolores never married, but, if you will, my out-laws-were not merely accepted but embraced into James's regiments, and made sergeants on the spot. They were quartered in the houses of the Protestant gentry of Dublin, who by this time had already fled to England or America.So now the Partrys and I are ranged on opposing sides of the battle-front, which is a sleepy one at present. If I survive, and if they do, I am invited to join them over pints of black beer and to have strange, rousing yarns related to me of Dublin under the Jacobites, and of how one Connaught family made themselves at home there.Now during the past summer, the Ulster towns of Derry and Enniskillen were put under siege by elements of this queer French-Irish army. James's eagerness to score victories for the Pope exceeds his intelligence by an amount too great to measure. So on two occasions he dashed out of Dublin on short notice with all his entourage in the hopes of making his way north to Ulster and planting the Crusader-flag on the ruins of a Presbyterian church or two. The poor roads and scarcity of bridges hindered the royal progress, and the disinclination of the besieged Scotsmen to surrender might have balked him in any event.My scrivener, who is at this moment glowing with pride and sniffling with emotion, will perhaps append a few lines extolling the manliness of the defenders of those two towns.When d'Avaux-who had no choice but to accompany James on these excursions-returned, he was given the unwelcome news that some enterprising Dubliners (described by witnesses as a pair of towheaded lads) had climbed up some vines and a drain-pipe, entered his house through a window, and stolen everything that was of value, as well as a few items that were of no use to anyone but himself.I will leave it to you, my lady, to guess whether there may be any connexion between these events, and a letter I had sent to my Dublin out-laws a few weeks previously, in which I had described this d'Avaux, and mentioned that he was now residing across the square from the house where their company had been quartered.Not long after, I received a nocturnal delivery of papers, written out in what I am a.s.sured, by learned men, is the French language. Though I cannot read, I can recognize some of the words, and I half phant'sy I see your name in some of them. I have enclosed them in this packet.During our memorable meeting in the Hague, you voiced sympathy for my problem, namely, that my true love, Miss Abigail Frome, was made a slave, and given to the Earl of Upnor. You seemed to doubt that I could ever be of use to you. Perhaps it is time for a new reckoning.I attempted to settle the issue personally on the day of the Revolution but was baffled-you may hear the story from my lord Upnor if you care to know it.This concludes my letter. You may direct any response to me at Dundalk. I am here with a stew of English, Dutch, Huguenot, Ulster, Danish, and Brandenburg regiments, enlivened by a sprinkling of unreconstructed Phanatiques whose fathers came over with Cromwell, conquered this island, and were paid for their work in Irish land. Now the Irish have got it back, and these hectical Nonconformists are disgruntled, and undecided whether they should join our army and conquer it anew, or sail to America and conquer that instead. They shall have a good eight or nine months to make up their minds, as Marshal Schomberg-the general whom King William has put in charge of this army-is desultory, and intends to tarry here in Dundalk for the entire winter.So here is where I may be reached, if I am not killed by pestilence, starvation, or boredom.Your humble and obedient servant,Bob Shaftoe

The Dunkerque Residence of the Marquis and the Marquise d'Ozoir.

21 OCTOBER 1689.

BONAVENTURE R ROSSIGNOL HAD MANY eccentric traits, even by the standards of cryptologists; but none more striking than his tendency to gallop into town alone when most needed and least looked-for. He had done it thirteen months ago, knowing (for he knew everything) that Eliza was in peril on the banks of the Meuse. The four-month-old infant she now carried was evidence of how it had wrought on her pa.s.sions. Now, here he was again, wind-blown, mud-spattered, and horse-scented to a degree that was incorrect and absurd for a gentleman of the King's court; yet suddenly Eliza felt as if she had just sat down in a puddle of warm honey. She closed her eyes, drew a breath, let it out slowly, and dumped her burden into his arms. eccentric traits, even by the standards of cryptologists; but none more striking than his tendency to gallop into town alone when most needed and least looked-for. He had done it thirteen months ago, knowing (for he knew everything) that Eliza was in peril on the banks of the Meuse. The four-month-old infant she now carried was evidence of how it had wrought on her pa.s.sions. Now, here he was again, wind-blown, mud-spattered, and horse-scented to a degree that was incorrect and absurd for a gentleman of the King's court; yet suddenly Eliza felt as if she had just sat down in a puddle of warm honey. She closed her eyes, drew a breath, let it out slowly, and dumped her burden into his arms.

"Mademoiselle, I had held, until this moment, that your recent letter to me was the most exquisite flirtation that could be devised by the human mind," said Rossignol, "but I perceive now that it was merely a prelude to the delicious torment of the Three Bundles."

This snapped her head around-as he'd known it would-because it was a sort of riddle.

Rossignol had coal-black eyes. He was gaunt, and held to be unattractive by most of the ladies at Court. He was as lean as a riding-crop, which made him look awkward in court-dress; but bulked up in a ca.s.sock and flushed from the breeze off the sea, he looked well enough to Eliza. Those black eyes glanced briefly at the blanket-wrapped object she had dropped into his arms, then flicked up to a side-table where rested a packet of moldy tent-cloth, tied up in twine. Two tight little bundles. Then, finally, his eyes locked on Eliza's for a moment-she was looking back over her shoulder at him-and traveled slowly down her back until they came to rest on her a.r.s.e.

"The last last time you galloped to my rescue thus," she said, "there was only time you galloped to my rescue thus," she said, "there was only one one bundle to contend with; a simple matter, therefore, which you were man enough to handle." Her eyes now jumped down to the bundle in Rossignol's arms, which urped up some curdled milk onto his sleeve, coughed, and began to cry. "As we grow older the number of bundles waxes," she added, "and we must all become jugglers." bundle to contend with; a simple matter, therefore, which you were man enough to handle." Her eyes now jumped down to the bundle in Rossignol's arms, which urped up some curdled milk onto his sleeve, coughed, and began to cry. "As we grow older the number of bundles waxes," she added, "and we must all become jugglers."

Rossignol stared, with a kind of Natural-Philosophick detachment, at the viscous streak of baby-vomit probing a fold of his sleeve. His son let out a howl; the father winced and turned his head away. A door at the other end of the room was ripped open, and a woman pounded in, already cooing for the baby; then, seeing a strange man, she drew herself up and looked to Eliza. "Please, mademoiselle, be my guest," said Rossignol, and extended his arms. He had never seen the woman before, and had no idea who she was, but it did not require a Royal crypta.n.a.lyst to read the situation: Eliza, despite being trapped and detained in Dunkerque with no money, had not only figured out a way to move into this vacant chateau, but had also managed to retain at least one competent, loyal, and trusted servant.

Nicole-for that was this woman's name-did not move until she had seen Eliza nod. Then she stepped forward and s.n.a.t.c.hed the infant away, glaring at Rossignol-who responded with a grave bow. By the time she had reached the room's exit, the baby had stopped crying, and as she hustled him off down the corridor he began to make a contented "aaah."

Rossignol had forgotten the baby already. The bundle count was down to two. But he had the good manners not to pay undue attention to the packet on the side-table, even though he knew it to be filled with stolen diplomatic correspondence. All his attention, for now, was fixed on Eliza.

Eliza was accustomed to being looked at, and did not mind it. But she was preoccupied now for a little while. Rossignol had no feelings whatsoever for the baby. He had not the slightest intention of being its father. This did not surprise her especially. If anything, it was simpler and easier that way. He wanted her for what lay at either end of her spinal column-it was not clear which end he favored-and not for her spiritual qualities. Certainly not for her offspring.

King Louis XIV of France had found it convenient to make Eliza a Countess. Among other privileges, this had granted her admittance to the Salon of Diana in the royal chateau at Versailles. There she had noticed this bored and lonesome man studying her. She had been every bit as bored. As it had turned out, they had been bored for the same reason: They both knew the odds of these games, and saw little point in staking money on them. But to talk about talk about the odds, and to speculate as to ways of systematically the odds, and to speculate as to ways of systematically beating beating such games, was absorbing. It had seemed unwise, or at least impolite, to hold such conversations around the gaming-tables, and so Eliza and Rossignol had strolled in the gardens, and had moved quickly from the odds of card-games to more elevated talk of Leibniz, Newton, Huygens, and other Natural Philosophers. Of course they had been noticed by gossips looking out the windows; but those foolish Court girls, who mistook fashion for taste, had not considered Rossignol desirable, had not understood that he was a genius, unrecognized as such by the savants of Europe. such games, was absorbing. It had seemed unwise, or at least impolite, to hold such conversations around the gaming-tables, and so Eliza and Rossignol had strolled in the gardens, and had moved quickly from the odds of card-games to more elevated talk of Leibniz, Newton, Huygens, and other Natural Philosophers. Of course they had been noticed by gossips looking out the windows; but those foolish Court girls, who mistook fashion for taste, had not considered Rossignol desirable, had not understood that he was a genius, unrecognized as such by the savants of Europe.

At the same time-though she had not realized this until later-he had been observing had been observing her her even more shrewdly. Many of her letters to Leibniz, and Leibniz's letters back to her, had crossed his desk, for he was a member of the even more shrewdly. Many of her letters to Leibniz, and Leibniz's letters back to her, had crossed his desk, for he was a member of the Cabinet Noir, Cabinet Noir, whose purpose was to open and read foreign correspondence. He had found her letters to be curiously long, and filled with vapid chatter about hairstyles and the cut of the latest fashions. His true purpose in strolling with her in the gardens of Versailles had been to determine whether she was as empty-headed as she seemed in her letters. The answer, clearly, was no; and moreover she had turned out to know a lot about mathematics, metaphysics, and Natural Philosophy. This had sufficed to send him back to his family chateau at Juvisy, where he had broken the steganographic code that Eliza had been using to correspond with Leibniz. He could have destroyed, or at least damaged, her then, but he had lacked the desire to. For a kind of seduction had taken place between the two of them, which had not been acted upon until thirteen months ago. whose purpose was to open and read foreign correspondence. He had found her letters to be curiously long, and filled with vapid chatter about hairstyles and the cut of the latest fashions. His true purpose in strolling with her in the gardens of Versailles had been to determine whether she was as empty-headed as she seemed in her letters. The answer, clearly, was no; and moreover she had turned out to know a lot about mathematics, metaphysics, and Natural Philosophy. This had sufficed to send him back to his family chateau at Juvisy, where he had broken the steganographic code that Eliza had been using to correspond with Leibniz. He could have destroyed, or at least damaged, her then, but he had lacked the desire to. For a kind of seduction had taken place between the two of them, which had not been acted upon until thirteen months ago.

It would have made matters a good deal simpler if he had fallen in love with the baby and proposed to elope with her, and him, to some other country. But this, as she now saw clearly, was unthinkable in so many different ways that to dream of it any more was a waste of time. Oh, well (she thought), if the world were populated solely by persons who loved and desired each other symmetrically, it might be happier, but not so interesting. And there would be no place in such a world for a person such as Eliza. During her weeks in Dunkerque, she had gotten better than ever at making do with what Fortune sent her way. If there was to be no doting father, so be it. Nicole was an ex-wh.o.r.e, recruited from one of Dunkerque's waterfront brothels. But she had already given the baby more love than he would get in a lifetime with Bonaventure Rossignol.

"Now you show up!" she said finally. you show up!" she said finally.

"The crypta.n.a.lyst to His Majesty the King of France," said Rossignol, "has responsibilities." He was not being arch-merely stating facts. "Things are expected of him. Now. The last last time you got into trouble, a year ago-" time you got into trouble, a year ago-"

"Correction, monsieur: the last time you know about. you know about."

"C'est juste. On On that that occasion, war was brewing on the Rhine, and I had a plausible reason to go that way. Finding you, mademoiselle, in a most complex predicament, I endeavoured to a.s.sist you." occasion, war was brewing on the Rhine, and I had a plausible reason to go that way. Finding you, mademoiselle, in a most complex predicament, I endeavoured to a.s.sist you."

"By impregnating me?"

"I did that out of pa.s.sion-as did you, mademoiselle, for our flirtation had been lengthy. And yet it did did militate in your favor-perhaps even saved your life. You seduced etienne d'Arcachon the very next day." militate in your favor-perhaps even saved your life. You seduced etienne d'Arcachon the very next day."

"I let him believe he was seducing me," Eliza demurred.

"Just as I said. Tout le monde Tout le monde knew about it. When you turned up pregnant in the Hague, everyone, including knew about it. When you turned up pregnant in the Hague, everyone, including le Roi, le Roi, and etienne, a.s.sumed that the baby was the sp.a.w.n of Arcachon; and, when it was born healthy, this made it seem that you were that rarest of specimens: one who could mate with a scion of the de Lavardac line without pa.s.sing on its well-known hereditary imperfections to the child. I did as much as I could to propagate this myth through other channels." and etienne, a.s.sumed that the baby was the sp.a.w.n of Arcachon; and, when it was born healthy, this made it seem that you were that rarest of specimens: one who could mate with a scion of the de Lavardac line without pa.s.sing on its well-known hereditary imperfections to the child. I did as much as I could to propagate this myth through other channels."

"Are you referring to how you stole, and decyphered, my journal, and gave it to the King?"

"Wrong on all counts. Monsieur le comte d'Avaux stole it-or would have, if I had not galloped post-haste to the Hague and co-opted him. I did not decypher decypher it so much as produce a fictionalized version of it. And since the King owns me, and all my work, I did not so much it so much as produce a fictionalized version of it. And since the King owns me, and all my work, I did not so much give give it to his majesty as direct his majesty's attention to it." it to his majesty as direct his majesty's attention to it."

"Couldn't you have directed his majesty's attention elsewhere?"

"Mademoiselle. You had been witnessed by many Persons of Quality carrying out what was obviously a spy-mission. D'Avaux and his minions were doing all in their power-and they have much power-to drag your name through the muck. To direct the attention of le Roi le Roi elsewhere would have booted you nothing. Rather, I produced for his majesty an account of your actions that was tame compared to the fabrications of d'Avaux; it deflated that man's pretensions while cementing the belief that the baby had been fathered by etienne de Lavardac d'Arcachon. I was elsewhere would have booted you nothing. Rather, I produced for his majesty an account of your actions that was tame compared to the fabrications of d'Avaux; it deflated that man's pretensions while cementing the belief that the baby had been fathered by etienne de Lavardac d'Arcachon. I was not not trying to rehabilitate you- trying to rehabilitate you-that would have required a miracle-only to mitigate the damage. For I feared that they might send someone to a.s.sa.s.sinate you, or abduct you, and bring you back to France." would have required a miracle-only to mitigate the damage. For I feared that they might send someone to a.s.sa.s.sinate you, or abduct you, and bring you back to France."

And now he stopped because he had talked himself into a faux pas, faux pas, and was mortified. "Er..." and was mortified. "Er..."

"Yes, monsieur?"

"I did not antic.i.p.ate this. this."

"Is that why it took you so long to get here?"

"I have already told you that the King's crypta.n.a.lyst has responsibilities-none of which, as it turns out, place him in Dunkerque. I came as soon as I could." of which, as it turns out, place him in Dunkerque. I came as soon as I could."

"You came as soon as I incited your jealousy by praising Lieutenant Bart in a letter."

"Ah, so you admit it!"

"I admit nothing, monsieur, for he is every bit as remarkable as I made him out to be, and any man in his right mind would be jealous of him."

"It is just so difficult for me to follow," said Rossignol.

"Poor Bon-bon!"

"Please do not be sarcastic. And please do not address me by that ridiculous name."

"What is it, pray tell, that the greatest crypta.n.a.lyst in the world cannot follow follow?"

"At first you described him as a corsair, a boca-neer, who took you by force..."

"Took the ship I was on the ship I was on by force-pray watch your language!" by force-pray watch your language!"

"Later, when it was to your advantage to make me jealous, he was the most perfect gentle knight of the seas."

"Then I shall explain it, for there is no contradiction. But first take off that ca.s.sock and let us make ourselves more comfortable."

"The double entendre is noted," said Rossignol crisply, "but before I become dangerously dangerously comfortable, pray tell, what are you doing in the residence of the Marquis and the Marquise d'Ozoir? For that is where we are, to judge from the scutcheon on the gates." comfortable, pray tell, what are you doing in the residence of the Marquis and the Marquise d'Ozoir? For that is where we are, to judge from the scutcheon on the gates."

"You have decyphered the coat of arms correctly," said Eliza. "Fear not, the d'Ozoirs are not here now. It is just me, and my servants."

"But I thought you were under arrest on a ship, and had no servants...or did you write those things solely to make me come here the faster?"

Eliza clamped a hand on Rossignol's wrist and dragged him through a door. They had been conversing in a foyer that communicated with the stables. She took him now down a corridor into a little salon, and thence into a larger drawing-room that was illuminated by several great windows facing toward the harbor.

At some point in its history, Dunkerque must have been an apt name for this place. For it literally meant Dune-church, and one could easily see it, some centuries back, as a dune with a church on, below, or near it, and nothing else, save an indifferent creek that reached the sea there, not so much impelled by gravity as blundering into it by accident. This stark dune-church-creek-scape had over ages been complicated, though never obscured, by the huts, houses, docks, and wharves of a modest fishing-and smuggling-port. More recently it had come to be thought of as a strategic a.s.set, and been juggled back and forth between England and France for a while; inevitably Louis XIV had made it his, and begun to aggrandize it into a base navale, base navale, which was a little bit like mounting cannons and armor-plates on a fishing-boat. To anyone approaching the place from England, it looked fearsome enough, with a ma.s.sive stout rubble-wall along the sh.o.r.e for cannonb.a.l.l.s to bounce off of, and divers fortifications and batteries set up wherever the sand would bear their weight. But seen from within-which was how Eliza and Monsieur Bonaventure Rossignol were seeing it-the place looked like a perfectly innocent little port-town that had been hurled into a prison, or had had a prison erected around it. which was a little bit like mounting cannons and armor-plates on a fishing-boat. To anyone approaching the place from England, it looked fearsome enough, with a ma.s.sive stout rubble-wall along the sh.o.r.e for cannonb.a.l.l.s to bounce off of, and divers fortifications and batteries set up wherever the sand would bear their weight. But seen from within-which was how Eliza and Monsieur Bonaventure Rossignol were seeing it-the place looked like a perfectly innocent little port-town that had been hurled into a prison, or had had a prison erected around it.

All of which was to say that it was not and never would be a place for a great lord to pile up a brilliant chateau, or a great lady to spread a fragrant garden; and while those dunes might be speckled with watch-towers and mortar-batteries, no grand marechal marechal would ever make them terrible with a high citadel. The Marquis and the Marquise d'Ozoir had had the discretion to know as much, and so had contented themselves with acquiring a compound in the middle of things, near the harbor, and improving it, building up rather than out. The exterior of the main house was still old Norman half-timbered style, but one would never know it if all one saw was the interior, which had been remade in Barock style-or as close to it as one could come without using stone. Much wood, paint, and time had been devoted to fashioning pilasters and columns, wall-panels and bal.u.s.ters that would pa.s.s for Roman marble unless you went up and rapped on them with a knuckle. Rossignol had the good grace not to, and attended, instead, to what Eliza wished to show him: the view out the window. would ever make them terrible with a high citadel. The Marquis and the Marquise d'Ozoir had had the discretion to know as much, and so had contented themselves with acquiring a compound in the middle of things, near the harbor, and improving it, building up rather than out. The exterior of the main house was still old Norman half-timbered style, but one would never know it if all one saw was the interior, which had been remade in Barock style-or as close to it as one could come without using stone. Much wood, paint, and time had been devoted to fashioning pilasters and columns, wall-panels and bal.u.s.ters that would pa.s.s for Roman marble unless you went up and rapped on them with a knuckle. Rossignol had the good grace not to, and attended, instead, to what Eliza wished to show him: the view out the window.

From here they could see most of the ship-basin: a pool, deepened by dredging, and a-mazed by moles, causeways, wharves, sea-walls, &c. Beyond it the view was chopped off by the rectilinear bluff of the fortress-wall. Eliza did not have to explain to her guest that part of the basin was still used by the ordinary sea-faring folk who had always dwelled here, while another part was for the Navy; as much was obvious from looking at the ships.

She gave him a moment to take this in, then said: "How did I end up here? Well, once I had recovered from childbirth-" then she caught herself short, and smiled. "What a ridiculous expression; I see now that I shall be recovering until the day I die."

Rossignol ignored the remark, and so, blushing slightly, she went back to the main thread: "I began to liquidate all of my short-term positions in the Amsterdam markets. It would be impossible to manage them from across the sea during a war. This was done easily enough-the result was a pretty h.o.a.rd of gold coins, loose gemstones, and vulgar jewelry, as well as Bills of Exchange payable in London, and a few payable in Leipzig."

"Ah," said Rossignol, drawing some connexion in his mind, "those would be the ones that you gave to Princess Eleanor."*

"As usual, you know everything."

"When she turned up in Berlin with money, people there gossiped. It sounds as though you were most generous."

"I booked pa.s.sage on a Dutch ship that was to take me, along with several other pa.s.sengers, from the Hook of Holland to London. This was early in September. We were baffled by strong winds out of the northeast, which prevented us from making any headway towards England, while driving us inexorably south towards the Straits of Dover. To make a long, tediously nautical story short, we were captured off Dunkerque by-voila!"

Eliza gestured toward much the finest ship in the basin, a Ship of Force with a sterncastle magnificently sculpted, and spread thick with gold leaf.

"Lieutenant Jean Bart," Rossignol muttered.

"Our captain surrendered immediately, and so we were boarded without violence by Bart's men, who went through and confiscated everything of value. I lost all. The ship itself became Bart's, of course-you can see it there if you care to look, but it is not much to look at."

"That is putting it kindly," said Rossignol after he had picked it out among the warships. "Why on earth does Lieutenant Bart suffer it to be moored so close to his flagship? It is like an a.s.s sharing a stall with a cheval de bataille. cheval de bataille."

"The answer is: the innate chivalry of Lieutenant Bart," said Eliza.

"How does that follow?"

"After we had surrendered, and during the time that we were en route hither, one of Bart's petty officers remained on board to keep an eye on things. I noticed him talking to one of the other pa.s.sengers at length. I became concerned. This pa.s.senger was a Belgian gentleman who had boarded this ship at the last minute as we made our way towards the breakwater at the Hook. He had been paying me a lot of attention ever since. Not the sort of attention most most men pay to me-" men pay to me-"

"He was a spy," said Rossignol, "in the pay of d'Avaux." It was not clear whether he had guessed this, or already knew it from reading the man's mail.

"I had guessed as much. It had not troubled me at all when I had thought I was going to end up in London, where this man would be impotent. But now we were on our way to Dunkerque, where the pa.s.sengers would be left to shift for themselves. I could not guess what sort of mischief might befall me here at this fellow's hands. And indeed, when we reached Dunkerque, all of the pa.s.sengers except for me were let off. I was detained for some hours, during which time several messages pa.s.sed between the ship I was on, and the flagship of Jean Bart.

"Now as you may know, Bon-bon, every pirate and privateer has lurking within him the soul of an accountant. Though some would say 'tis the other way round. This arises from the fact that their livelihood derives from sacking ships, which is a hurried, disorderly, murky sort of undertaking; one pirate may come up with some gentleman's lucky rabbit's foot while the fellow on his left pulls an emerald the size of a quail's egg from a lady's cleavage. The whole enterprise would dissolve into a melee unless all the takings were pooled, and meticulously sorted, appraised, tallied, and then divided according to a rigid scheme. That is why the English euphemism for going a-pirating is going on the account. going on the account.

"The practical result in my case was that every one of Bart's men had at least a general notion of how much had been pilfered and from whom, and they knew that the gold taken from my strong-box and the jewels plucked from my body were worth more than all the other pa.s.sengers' effects summed and multiplied by ten. Bon-bon, I do not wish to boast, but the rest of my story will not make any sense to you unless I mention that the fortune I had lost was really quite enormous."

Rossignol winced. From this, Eliza knew that he must have seen the figure mentioned somewhere.

"I have not dwelled on it," she went on, "because a n.o.blewoman-which I purport to be-is not supposed to care about anything as vulgar as money. And when Bart's men took the jewels away from me I did not feel any different from the minute before. But as days went by I thought more and more about the fortune I had lost-enough to purchase an earldom. The only thing that saved me from going mad was the blue-eyed treasure I cradled in my arms."

She purposely refrained from saying our baby, our baby, as this sort of remark only seemed to make him restive. as this sort of remark only seemed to make him restive.

"In time I was put aboard a longboat and taken to the flagship. Lieutenant Bart emerged from his cabin to welcome me aboard. I think he was expecting some dowager. When he saw me, he was shocked."

"It is not shock," Rossignol demurred. "It is an altogether different thing. You have witnessed it a thousand times, but you'll go to your grave without understanding it."

"Well, once Captain Bart had recovered a little from this mysterious condition that you speak of, he ushered me into his private cabin-it is the one high in the sterncastle, there-and caused coffee to be served. He was-"

"Here I beg you to skip over any further adoring description of Lieutenant Bart," said Rossignol, "as I got quite enough of it in the letter that caused me to wear out five horses getting here."

"As you wish," Eliza said. "It was more than simple l.u.s.t, though."

"I'm sure that's what he wanted you to think."

"Well. Let me jump ahead, then, to review my situation briefly. I am rated a Countess in France only because le Roi le Roi decided to make me one; he simply announced one day at his levee that I was the Countess de la Zeur-which is a funny French way of denoting my home island." decided to make me one; he simply announced one day at his levee that I was the Countess de la Zeur-which is a funny French way of denoting my home island."

"I wonder if you know," said Rossignol, "that, by doing so, his majesty was implicitly rea.s.serting an ancient Bourbon claim to Qwghlm that his lawyers had dredged out of some pond. Just as his majesty has made a base navale base navale here, to one side of England, he would make another like it in Qwghlm, to the opposite side. So your enn.o.blement-startling as it might have been to you-was done as part of a larger plan." here, to one side of England, he would make another like it in Qwghlm, to the opposite side. So your enn.o.blement-startling as it might have been to you-was done as part of a larger plan."

"I'd expect nothing less of his majesty," said Eliza. "Whatever his motives might have been, the fact is that I had repaid the favor by spying on his army and reporting what I saw to William of Orange. So le Roi le Roi had reason to be a bit cross with me." had reason to be a bit cross with me."

Rossignol snorted.

"But I had done so," Eliza went on, "under the aegis of Louis's sister-in-law, whose homeland Louis was invading, and continues to ravage at this very moment."

"He does not ravage, mademoiselle, but pacifies it."

"I stand corrected. Now, William of Orange has secretly made me a d.u.c.h.ess. But this is like a bill of exchange drawn on a Dutch house and payable only in London."

This commercial metaphor made Rossignol confused, and perhaps a little queasy.

"In France it is not honored," Eliza explained, "for France deems James Stuart the rightful King of England and does not grant William any right to create d.u.c.h.esses. Even if they did, they would dispute his sovereignty over Qwghlm. At any rate, these facts were all new to Lieutenant Bart. It required some time for me to convey them to him, for, of course, I had to do so diplomatically. diplomatically. When he had absorbed all, and pondered, and finally made to speak, the care with which he considered each utterance was extraordinary; he was like a pilot maneuvering his vessel through a harbor crowded with drifting fire-ships, pausing every few words to, as it were, take soundings or gauge the latest shift in the wind." When he had absorbed all, and pondered, and finally made to speak, the care with which he considered each utterance was extraordinary; he was like a pilot maneuvering his vessel through a harbor crowded with drifting fire-ships, pausing every few words to, as it were, take soundings or gauge the latest shift in the wind."

"Or maybe he is just not, in the end, very intelligent," Rossignol suggested.

"I shall let you be the judge of that, for you shall meet him presently," Eliza said. "Either way, my my situation is the same. Let me put it to you baldly. The money that Bart's men had stripped off my person was situation is the same. Let me put it to you baldly. The money that Bart's men had stripped off my person was gold gold or, as some name it, or, as some name it, hard money, hard money, spendable anywhere in the world for any good or service, and extremely desirable on both sides of the English Channel. Such is terribly scarce now because of the war. Living so near Amsterdam and dealing so rarely in hard money, I had quite lost sight of this. As you know, Bon-bon, Louis XIV recently had all of the solid silver furniture in his spendable anywhere in the world for any good or service, and extremely desirable on both sides of the English Channel. Such is terribly scarce now because of the war. Living so near Amsterdam and dealing so rarely in hard money, I had quite lost sight of this. As you know, Bon-bon, Louis XIV recently had all of the solid silver furniture in his Grands Appartements Grands Appartements melted down, literally liquidating 1.5 million melted down, literally liquidating 1.5 million livres tournoises livres tournoises in a.s.sets to pay for the new army he is building. At the time I heard this story, I had dismissed it as a whim of interior decoration, but now I am thinking harder about its meaning. The n.o.bles of France have h.o.a.rded a stupendous amount of metal in the past few decades, probably banking it against the day Louis XIV dies, when they phant'sy they may rise up and rea.s.sert their ancient powers." in a.s.sets to pay for the new army he is building. At the time I heard this story, I had dismissed it as a whim of interior decoration, but now I am thinking harder about its meaning. The n.o.bles of France have h.o.a.rded a stupendous amount of metal in the past few decades, probably banking it against the day Louis XIV dies, when they phant'sy they may rise up and rea.s.sert their ancient powers."

Rossignol nodded. "By melting his own furniture, his majesty was trying to set an example. So far, few have emulated it."

"Now, my a.s.sets-all in the most liquid possible form-had been seized by Jean Bart, a privateer, holding a license to plunder Dutch and English shipping and turn the proceeds over to the French crown. If I had been a Dutch or an English woman, my money would already have been swallowed up by the French treasury, and available for the controleur-general, controleur-general, Monsieur le comte de Pontchartrain, to dispense as he saw fit. But since I was Monsieur le comte de Pontchartrain, to dispense as he saw fit. But since I was arguably arguably a French countess, the money had been put in escrow." a French countess, the money had been put in escrow."

"They were afraid that you would lodge an objection to the confiscation of your money-for how can a French privateer steal from a French countess?" said Rossignol. "Your ambiguous status would make it into a complicated affair legally. The letters that pa.s.sed back and forth were most amusing."

"I am glad you were amused, Bon-bon. But I was faced with the question: Why not claim my rights and demand the money back?"

"It is good that you have posed this question, mademoiselle, for I, and half of Versailles, have been wondering."

"The answer is, because they wanted it. because they wanted it. They wanted it badly enough that if I were to put up a fight, they might turn against me, denounce me as a foreign spy and a traitor, void my rights, throw me into the Bastille, and take the money. Put to work in the war, it might save thousands of French lives-and balanced against that, what is one counterfeit Countess worth?" They wanted it badly enough that if I were to put up a fight, they might turn against me, denounce me as a foreign spy and a traitor, void my rights, throw me into the Bastille, and take the money. Put to work in the war, it might save thousands of French lives-and balanced against that, what is one counterfeit Countess worth?"