They returned to La Belle Ecluse laden with parcels for the journey, and spent the rest of the day working on the Sparrowhawk. By the time Henri de Beauchesne returned late in the afternoon, the narrowboat’s interior was gleaming again, and the clean bedding was drying on the hotel’s washing line. Lotti and Ben were scrubbing the outside, watched from the roof by Federico, and by red-eyed Clara from the steps of the hotel. They all gathered on the towpath to hear what the captain had to report, Lotti noting with interest that Clara stood a little apart.

“After much discussion with various parties,” said Henri, “I have worked out the route you must take which will bring you closest to the site of the bombed hospital at Buisseau.”

He produced a copy of the same map Ben and Lotti had bought in town that morning, and showed them his proposed route. It was identical to the one Ben had worked out, except for its final destination.

“I had thought to bring the Sparrowhawk right up to the hospital site,” Ben said. “Nathan wrote in his letter that barges went there.”

“Unfortunately, I have been informed that the river to that site is now unnavigable. Which is why I suggest this …” Henri pointed again at the map. “Here, at the intersection of these two rivers, there is a convent where the religious sisters nursed many soldiers during the war. They are good women, and I am sure they will help us. By my calculations the convent is a little more than a day’s journey away from here by boat. Then it is about twelve miles to Buisseau by train from the local station of St. Matthieu.”

Lotti, irritated, admitted to herself that this was helpful.

Henri turned to Clara. “I will ride ahead, Mademoiselle Clara, and alert the good sisters of your arrival.”

Now was the moment, thought Lotti.

“Tell them,” she whispered to Ben. “Say we don’t want them to come!”

“Why me?” he whispered back.

“It’s your boat!”

“I don’t know what to say.” Ben was gazing at Captain de Beauchesne in stupefaction. “He’s so … efficient.”

“All right,” said Lotti. “I’ll do it.”

But she didn’t have to.

“Captain,” said Clara, in a voice that only shook a bit. “Could we talk?”

Henri and Clara walked together along the towpath away from the hotel.

“You are so kind,” Clara said, when they were out of hearing of the Sparrowhawk.

“I’m not sure I am,” Henri replied honestly. “I’m not sure I should be encouraging Ben to search for his brother. It seems to me a quite hopeless endeavor. What is your English expression? A needle in a haystack.”

“Yes,” said Clara. “You’re right, of course. But I’m awfully afraid he needs to find this out for himself.”