The old man was a gnome with a bent back and a face creased like linen. ‘Sorry, Madame, we’ve not had any ready water for the past week. The rope in the well snapped. The bucket’s down at the bottom. My wife’s had to walk a kilometre to the stream to fetch water for cooking.’

‘So mend the rope, stupid man.’

The gardener sighed. ‘I’m too old to go climbing down wells, Madame. Sorry, but if I went down I wouldn’t be able to get back up.’

‘Then it’s just as well I have a fit young boy with me.’ She turned to Marius. ‘You, boy. Go down the well and fetch the bucket to the top. And you, girl,’ she said to Aimee, ‘take a pail to the stream for some fresh water. We crossed it on the way up here.’

Since they’d left Attilly over a month ago, they were rested and well fed. Marius would soon be home and it seemed the war would be over before Christmas. They didn’t mind repaying Madame Clare with a little help before they left.

Marius went across to the well and found there were iron rungs hammered into the inside wall. Aimee hurried down to the bottom of the hill where a stream ran across the road. The men riding down the far bank looked at first like two soldiers as they wore heavy British greatcoats. One man was wearing a pair of gloves. The other needed only one glove. He didn’t need one on his hand of silver.

As soon as she saw them, Aimee dropped the bucket and sprinted back up the hill. The horsemen kicked their horses into a trot and followed. Aimee ran through the front gate, looking around wildly for Marius. Madame Clare came out of the front door and snapped, ‘Where’s the pail of water?’

‘Where’s Marius?’ Aimee demanded.

‘Getting the bucket out of the well,’ the woman said sourly.

‘Two men on horses... looking for us... don’t tell them where we are. Say we ran off into the woods,’ the girl panted before she raced to the back of the house. She ran across to the well and called down, ‘Marius? Hurry. Silver Hand is here.’

‘How near?’

Aimee could hear the clatter of the hooves on the front path. ‘Twenty seconds at the most.’

‘Then I can’t make it. Save yourself,’ Marius shouted back.

‘I’ve come this far,’ Aimee said. ‘I’m not leaving you now. She climbed on to the wall of the well and began to go down the iron rungs. ‘He’ll never find us in here,’ she said. ‘Once he’s ridden off we’ll get out and escape,’ she whispered. The whisper echoed around the stony walls of the well.