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Tristan did not turn around. “And so I take it Citoyen Simon’s wishes trump Citoyen Robespierre’s.”
“No, of course not.” The captain was before Tristan now, his expression all amicability. “There is no need to interrupt Robespierre. If you are willing to wait for just a little while, Citoyen Simon will return—”
“No.” Tristan gestured to the darkening sky. “The curfew will be in effect soon. If I wait, I will be breaking it. I don’t have to tell you, Captain, the importance of following the rules of our new republic. They are intended for the safety of every citizen.” He sincerely hoped the captain didn’t point out that if Tristan fetched Robespierre and returned, then he’d still be breaking the curfew.
The captain glanced at his men and lowered his voice. “I would only ask you keep this to yourself. If Citoyen Simon discovers what I have done, he will be most displeased.”
“I have no reason to speak to Antoine Simon of this.” He’d done it. He would be escorted inside. The mission was far from complete, but at least now it was underway. Tristan had to work to appear calm and to keep the smile from his face.
“You will be quick, citoyen?”
“Of course. As I said, I would like to be home long before the curfew.”
The captain blew out a breath. “Then follow me.”
Tristan entered the Temple through the same door he had before. The guards stationed throughout were alert and attentive. It would not be easy to slip the boy past them. Fortunately, that was not his task. As he climbed higher and deeper into the Temple, he thought of Alexandra scaling the outside wall and hoped she had already made it to the top. He could only stall the captain so long before the man would be suspicious.
Finally, the captain reached the level where the boy was imprisoned. As before two guards stood outside the boy’s door.
“How is he?” the captain asked.
“Quiet, sir,” one of the men replied.
“Would you like to see him?” the captain asked.
“I would.”
The captain gestured and one of the guards slid back the rectangular viewing plate. Tristan stepped forward and removed his notebook with the worn blue cover. “If you do not mind, I would like a few moments of privacy to make my notes.” Because he expected a protest, he said, “Captain, you may stay, but I would ask you to stand over there so as not to distract me.”
The guards looked at each other and then the captain, who nodded. “Take a short break.”
“Yes, sir.” The two men departed, and the captain leaned against the wall at the far end of the corridor.
Tristan peered through the opening in the door. The small, thin form of the boy lay on the pallet on the floor. He faced away from the door.
Tristan’s gaze slid to the padlock on the door. It would probably pose no real difficulty for Leroy, but Leroy needed to get inside.
Hurry, Alexandra,he thought as the moments flew by.
***
ALEX SHIFTED HER WEIGHTuntil she landed with a hard thud against the stone of the building, the drainpipe still clenched between her knees. Her head swam, and her heart pounded. That had been far closer than she would have liked. She didn’t know how long she had been at this, but she knew time was of the essence. She could afford no more close calls, no more errors. Taking the time to wipe the blood from her hands again, she grasped the drainpipe and began to climb.
Pull. Slide. Pull. Slide.
She muffled a cry of pain as a rough piece of metal stabbed at her skin, but she ignored it and continued to climb. She could see the wall of the walkway around the Temple roof now. Five feet, then four. Her arms shook and her muscles threatened to give in to fatigue. She fought the impulse and put every last ounce of strength into pulling herself up one more time. Then one more.
Her shaking hand grasped the stone wall. She had intended to use the drainpipe to climb over it and drop down, but she hadn’t counted on how hard the climb up would be. She feared if she didn’t take hold of the wall, she might never make it. She placed both hands on the edge of the wall and used her legs to push off the drainpipe and lever her body up. Her legs, though tired, were not as spent as her arms. She was able to hook her elbow over the wall, climb over, and tumble down onto her back.
The rampart was narrow, but she could lie on her side. She closed her eyes and took several breaths, then she climbed awkwardly to her feet. She didn’t want to use her aching hands. Keeping low, she began to run the length of the walkway, in the direction of the park, where Leroy and Montagne hid among the trees. By now, they would be in position and waiting for her to admit them. The barbican to the Temple was the opposite direction, and she hoped Tristan had made it inside.
Montagne had told her each turret had a door that opened onto the rampart. Then spiral stairs led down to landings where doors opened to the various levels. The turret stairs were old and dilapidated. It was more likely those inside the Temple would use the internal stairs between levels. Still, there was the chance she might come face-to-face with a guard coming up the stairs as she ran down. Alex removed the dagger from the sheath she’d tied to her belt and held it at the ready.
Ffoulkes wanted no interaction with any of the guards. He did not want them to know the boy was gone until morning, if at all possible. Once the boy’s escape was known, he would be pursued, and the gates to the city closed. It was imperative that the league was out of Paris before then.
Alex rushed down the stairs, narrowly avoiding rotting floorboards and scurrying mice. Fortunately, it did appear the stairs were rarely used. At the lowest level, she paused at the exit door. This door opened into a room used to store dry goods, like flour and potatoes. The cooks and maids should be gone for the day, but there was always a chance one had stayed a bit late to clean up or prepare for the following day.
Alex listened at the door for what felt like an hour, but was probably only three or four minutes.
