‘To my humble home, Mademoiselle, of course. I shall have the honour of your presence until matters with the Portuguese, and your accommodation, become a little clearer.’

Their luggage was loaded into the cart and the two Indians began to pull and the three of them followed behind as it moved off, wheels grinding and wobbly. Girodet offered Elisabeth an umbrella for shade, but she declined.

‘Do you know,’ the doctor said, opening the umbrella above his own head, ‘the blade in that large crate right there took the heads of King Louis and Queen Marie Antoinette?’

Bergerard looked over at Girodet.

‘The very blade,’ the doctor said. ‘Incredible, no?’

‘My father was there,’ Bergerard said. ‘At the place de la Révolution.’

‘Truly?’ Girodet smiled, showing small bright teeth. ‘But that is wonderful!’

FLUSHING FEVER

On the evening of 14 August 1809, the British navy (commanded by Sir Richard Strachan, 6th Baronet) resumed an intense bombardment of the Dutch port town of Flushing, where a significant portion of Bonaparte’s navy was stationed. That same night, under the smoke and flash and boom of their guns, with the town in flames and the French retreating and much confusion in the streets, Johannes Meyer slipped away from his regiment.

He reached the banks of the River Scheldt just before dawn and found a small raft normally used for poling cargo to and from the riverboats. He dragged it into the water and then, staying as low as possible on his knees, he poled the raft across the river to the island of Walcheren. The British were stationed there, with an army of forty thousand men.

As he neared the island, Johannes slipped into the water and waded through the freezing river to the shore. He walked a short distance, and when he saw the British soldiers he put his arms in the air and called out to them.

‘I’m Prussian!’

The soldiers fired at him (twice; the shots thumped into the sand to his left and right) and then they rushed Johannes and held him at bayonet point. They searched him roughly, pushed him around a little, gave a jab to his kidneys and then walked him up to the main encampment. He was placed under guard in a small wooden shelter.

Men, cannon, equipment, wagons, horses, everywhere Johannes looked. There were ships anchored out in the deeper part of the estuary, sails tucked away, and further behind there was Flushing, on fire, pouring thick smoke into the air.

Johannes emptied his boots of water. He waited. Soon he noticed there were lots of men being carried around on stretchers, arms hanging limp off the sides. They moaned and looked feverish. Some of the men on the stretchers were silent and their faces were covered with tunics.