The Countess Walewska might have feared worse, had she endured such a dream, for it was in fact her own bouquet that was tossed from the carriage window. And, indeed, the dream would have proven prophetic; months later and pregnant with the Emperor’s illegitimate son, she waited in vain for Bonaparte to send for her in Warsaw, while instead he set about in earnest search of a worthy wife among the royal families of Europe. But neither the Countess Walewska nor the Empress Josephine could really claim the dream. In truth, the dream was Napoleon’s. It was he who’d conquered their sleep.

HIGHWAY ROBBERY

There was the carriage driver and Mr Hendrik, Wesley Lewis Jr and the Prussian, Krüger, who’d come along at the last.

They got to Oschersleben easily enough, but a few miles short of Wolfenbüttel (it was dusk, foggy) they were held up by bandits.

Four men with pistols rode out of the trees and surrounded the carriage. The chestnut gelding and the mottled grey mare reared and sent everyone inside lunging suddenly forwards and then backwards. They were summoned from the carriage and directed to kneel on the ground.

‘Move swiftly,’ one of the bandits said, pointing his pistol. A red kerchief hid his face (the others wore kerchiefs in different colours). He remained on his horse while his colleagues dismounted and patted down the prisoners for wallets, weapons and blades. They found nothing but the driver’s apple knife and his sad little pigskin of small silver and coppers (they completely missed Mr Hendrik’s knife, the sheath tucked up in his armpit). Then they climbed up onto the carriage and threw the luggage down from the roof, opened the trunks and tore through the bags and spilled everything over the ground. They unhitched the two horses as well and led them away.

Wesley Lewis Jr watched as one of the bandits used the hilt of his sword to break the lid of the smallest chest. It had been under the seat in the carriage with them. The bandit tore the splintered wood away and tipped everything upside down. It was the chest with the false bottom, where Mr Hendrik had hidden their travel money for the way over and now the money for the electrical eels, all of Claus von Rolt’s beautiful shiny gold coins. Captain van der Velde had given it to them at the start of the journey, showed them how it worked. The false bottom came away as the bandit cracked the chest against the ground, but he didn’t notice; and, anyway, there were no gold coins in there. He threw the shattered timbers away, went to work on another of the trunks.

Where was the goddamn money? Wesley Lewis Jr turned to Mr Hendrik. ‘You black son of a bitch.’

The man on the horse said, ‘Shut it!’