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important event had just occurred and it had constitutional significance. They’d openly defied the wishes of their sovereign and won a victory.
    Harley was mortified. He could only sit there in hurt silence and reflect that, for once, his trickery had woefully miscarried.
     
    Daniel Rawson’s second visit to Holywell House was in marked contrast to the first one. He’d left on that occasion in a mood that bordered on despair but he now returned with alacrity. He was shown into the library and found Marlborough there, talking with his private secretary, Adam Cardonnel. They looked up as Daniel entered.
    ‘Come in, come in,’ said Marlborough, affably. ‘Yourhonour was but lately in our thoughts.’
    ‘I rode here as soon as I received your letter, Your Grace,’ said Daniel. ‘Let me congratulate you on being restored to the command that you should never have relinquished.’
    ‘It was very gratifying.’
    ‘A gross injustice has been righted.’
    ‘I agree with you, Daniel,’ said Cardonnel. ‘Her Majesty has been saved from making the most calamitous mistake of her reign.’
    ‘And there have been a few of those,’ said Marlborough under his breath. ‘But don’t just stand there, man. Take a seat.’
    ‘Thank you, Your Grace.’
    Daniel sat down opposite them. Delighted to find Marlborough in such high spirits, he was also pleased to see Cardonnel again. The secretary was a vital member of the captain general’s staff. A neat, handsome, engaging man, Cardonnel was a model of efficiency. He was also tireless, tactful and intensely loyal. He and Daniel had something in common. Both were refugees. In 1685, when Daniel and his mother fled after the battle of Sedgemoor, Cardonnel and his Huguenot family hastily left France to avoid the slaughter that followed the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes.
    ‘Order and common sense are restored,’ observed Cardonnel.
    ‘They should never have been abandoned in the first place,’ said Daniel. ‘What on earth persuaded Her Majestyto dispense with her acknowledged champion?’
    ‘Someone whispered in her ear, Daniel.’
    ‘Who was that?’
    ‘It matters not. He’s been summarily dismissed now.’
    ‘It’s no more than Robin the Trickster deserves,’ opined Marlborough, ‘but he wasn’t the only villain here. A maggot had wriggled its way into the royal apple. It goes by the name of Abigail Masham, one of Her Majesty’s bedchamber women. My dear wife will tell you all about that devious little baggage. Suffice it to say that we are – if not exactly in favour again – firmly in charge of operations.’
    ‘Those are the best tidings I could wish to hear, Your Grace.’
    ‘Thank you, Daniel.’
    ‘What are my orders?’
    ‘I’ll come to those,’ said Marlborough. ‘First, I wish to tender my apologies for sending you away so brusquely when you last called. I’ve now read the correspondence you brought and it’s been enlightening.’
    ‘There was another matter I’d hoped to raise with you.’
    ‘Speak on. This is your opportunity.’
    ‘It concerns a harrowing incident, Your Grace.’
    Daniel told them about the destruction of the farm and the murder of its occupants. Marlborough was aghast when he heard that it was the work of British soldiers.
    ‘Are you sure about this, Daniel?’ he asked, bristling.
    ‘The farmer was very precise.’
    ‘No soldiers under my command would dare do such a thing.’
    ‘I can only report what I saw and heard.’
    ‘This is outrageous,’ said Marlborough, slapping his thigh. ‘I’m grateful that you brought this to my attention. I’ll institute a search for these devils at once. When you return to Flanders this week, you can bear a letter on the subject to General Cadogan.’
    ‘I’ll gladly do so, Your Grace,’ said Daniel, ‘and I’ll pursue the matter on my own account as well. I have a strong personal interest in seeing these men caught and hanged. Wearing our uniforms, they behaved like