She marvelled at his apparent imperviousness to the heat. Just as he reached them, the Comte de St Erme drew Valade a little apart and began to converse with him in rapid French. ‘Gabbling and muttering in a foreign tongue, that’s what I heard, sir,’ had declared the gap-toothed ancient, when he told them of the initial foray he had made, sneaking around the house in the dark. Blank it was, except for a gate near the bridgehead. Rushing towards the entrance of the well-hole, Blueskin touched the secret spring. ‘Wait! No time for that.
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