“Ah, a mere ruse,” Franklin assured him. “I know who the spy is, you see! Despite the revolution, I’m afraid there are those in our ranks who remain Anglomanes. I’ve had this particular gentleman recalled to America more than once, but our Congress keeps sending him back. I wasn’t surprised that he left our company so abruptly today—off to send a message to his friends across the channel, no doubt!”

“You mean Adams?” whispered Beaumarchais in amazement.

“Please don’t share it with a soul,” Franklin said. Then he turned to Mme Helvetius, a short distance away. “A game of chess before my siesta, my dear?”

Midnight in the Gardens of Le Valentinois

The gardens were beautiful by night, thought Franklin. “Canonical hour!” He laughed to himself at his own cleverness. It was the best time to be abroad in the world. Beneath the star-filled August sky, a breeze ruffled the citrus trees. Moonlight drenched the pools and fountains a milky white. In the distance, the river Seine snaked across the land like a serpent of liquid silver.

At first sight, no one would imagine that this fairyland was only a short carriage ride from the steaming streets of Paris. Franklin knew he was fortunate, indeed, to have a host like Chaumont. When it came to intrigues and money, the man was a true rapscallion, but he wasn’t the worst of his lot.

As he strolled along the promenade, Franklin took Mme Helvetius’s arm.

“You did well this afternoon, my friend,” Franklin told his companion. “I refer not only to your prowess at chess, but to your flair for intrigue.” He paused to sniff at her clothes, and added, “I’ve become quite attached to that fragrance. Might we send your milkmaid by some afternoon to share tea with me in my boudoir?”

“Vieux cochon,” Mme Helvetius replied with a naughty smile. But as she glanced over the railing into the lower gardens, she tensed. “I thought everyone had long gone. Who are those men down there by the pool?”

Far below, at the edge of the cliff that rose from the Seine, was the large, octagonal pool designed by Donatien le Ray de Chaumont, with its famous, water-driven carillon of bells, which struck the hours. Close together at the pool’s edge, two figures were sitting in shadow.

“It is Jefferson and John Quincy Adams,” Franklin explained. “I asked them to stay on and meet me here to watch the show. They told the boy’s parents he’d be staying in town at Jefferson’s rooms. Come, let’s descend to join them.”

“But isn’t it dangerous to involve others?” asked Mme Helvetius.

“Just as dangerous as a game of chess,” Franklin replied. “And very like it. Young Quincy wants to learn the art of encryption and decryption. What better opportunity than tonight?”

When they reached the spot, Jefferson and young Adams rose to greet them.

“Dr. Franklin,” said Quincy. “I believe we’ve broken most of your code, and Mr. Jefferson’s headache has quite vanished in the process. But we’ve still a few questions.”