Clara and Sam exchanged looks.

The Sparrowhawk left the convent within the hour, waved off by the nuns.

Because she loved Sister Monique and now wouldn’t drink anything but goat’s milk, they left the little puppy Delphine behind, as a token of their thanks.

PART V

Chapter Thirty-Five

Ever since the Sparrowhawk left, visits to the convent had not stopped.

The first to come, on the morning after her departure, was a grumpy Englishman, completely bald under his flat cap, and wearing an ancient patched jacket. He came by the river on a small, Belgian-registered motorboat, and he spoke no French. The nuns took him to the Reverend Mother, who spoke to him in private, then Sister Véronique accompanied him back to the river and stayed to wave goodbye.

Next, a few hours later, came Henri de Beauchesne, roaring up on Madame Royère’s cousin’s motorbike. He did not even enter the convent, but spoke to a gaggle of nuns out in the courtyard. Had the English travelers come? They had? And left one of the puppies? Goat’s milk! How extraordinary. And had they found the English boy’s brother? A gardener! It was like a miracle. Captain de Beauchesne could hardly believe it. And they had received his telegrams? And had she—they—all of them—returned to England? No? Did the good sisters know, by any chance where she—they—all of them—had gone? He had to find her, he said, finally giving up all pretenses that what he cared about more than anything in the world was Clara. He could not live without her! He roared off again as soon as he had his answers, waved on his way by an admiring crowd.

The good sisters felt no concern about either of these visitors, knowing they meant the travelers well.

But now there was this English policeman.

Henri de Beauchesne, when Albert visited him in Paris, had been very apologetic but completely unhelpful. He remembered the Sparrowhawk, of course—such an odd boat, who wouldn’t?—but he had not seen her since Calais. After leaving Henri’s apartment, Albert had walked for a long time through Paris, thinking. With no knowledge of where the Sparrowhawk was, he asked himself why she was in France. What had possessed Ben and Lotti to undertake such a perilous journey? In Albert’s experience, the two most common reasons for such extreme behavior were fear, and love. You didn’t need to be a detective to work out what Albert’s fugitives were afraid of: Ben was afraid that his lie would be found out, and Lotti (understandably, thought Albert) was afraid of her uncle. But why France?

Love, love, love …

Ben has gone to look for his brother, John Snell had said. Could it be that …

Albert Skinner sent a telegram to his colleagues in Great Barton:

WHERE DID SAM LANGTON GO MISSING?