“I know you’re in such pain, Claude,” I whispered as I stroked his forelock. “But you won’t need to be brave for much longer. I promise you, when they come for you, no matter how much it breaks my heart, I will stick by you. I’ll be with you in the end. I promise, I promise …”

Footsteps outside in the corridor! Alexandre’s voice and that of the vet and another man. I knew him by sight when the three of them appeared. He was the Maître de Chevalier. The Horse Master of the Célestins.

“Please …” I was about to beg them for more time, for one more chance to change things. But before I could, Alexandre was telling me something, words that took a moment to register.

“We’re not here to harm him, Maisie. There has been word from above, from no less than the President of France himself. We’ve been instructed that Claude is to be taken immediately to the vet hospital and all their resources are to be placed at our disposal. The horse is to be saved at any cost.”

I couldn’t believe it. The publicity around the auction must have worked.

“Are you serious?” Tears were running unchecked down my cheeks. “Alexandre, is this for real?”

Alexandre dried my eyes, helped me up from the floor.

“It’s for real,” he said. “You did it, Maisie. You and Nicole and that journalist at the International Tribune.”

He smiled at me. “Claude is a symbol of Paris now. Our eternal flame. And this is the will of the people of Paris. Claude must survive.”

Chapter 16: Gardians of the Camargue

When the seawater had reached my waist, and the waves that kept coming now struck me as high as my chest, I became so cold that I couldn’t feel my fingers any more. And the rain! It had been torrential before, but now it was driving down in a bleak grey cloak that smothered us. The rush of the wind and the roar of the sea was so loud that it filled my ears. So much so that I truly didn’t hear the horse galloping hard towards us until it was almost too late. Then my ears pricked at the sound of the hoof beats and the cries calling my name, straining against the wind, Pierre’s voice anguished and grief-stricken.

“I’m here!” I called back. “I’m alive! I’m here!”