Read Online Ramage's Devil by Dudley Pope - Free Book Online Page A

discreet knock on the door. He excused himself and inspected Sarah closely. Finally he said: “The shoes, milady … they are most important.”
    Sarah gestured to the pair of wooden clogs. “And they are most uncomfortable!”
    â€œYes, milady, but you must wear them so that they seem natural. We are extremely lucky that Estelle had a pair which fitted you, even if those that Louis found for …”
    â€œEven if Louis has enormous feet and I feel as though I’m wearing a couple of boats,” Ramage grumbled.
    â€œYes, sir, but the socks?”
    â€œThe extra socks do help,” he admitted. “I had to put on three pairs, though.”
    â€œBut the coat and
pantalons—
perfect. You have adopted to perfection the, how do you say, the
stance,
of a man of the fields.”
    Ramage glared, defying Sarah to make a facetious comment.
    Gilbert himself was dressed in black. The material of the trousers was rough, a type of serge; the coat had the rusty sheen denoting age and too much attention from a smoothing iron. He looked perfect for the role he was to play, the employer of a young couple who was taking them to market.
    He was carrying a flat canvas wallet, which he unbuttoned as he walked over to the table. “Will you check through the documents with me, sir? From what Louis reports, we might have to show them half a dozen times before we get back here.”
    With that he took out three sets of paper and put one down on the table as though dealing playing cards for a game of patience.
    â€œThe
passeports,
” he explained. “Foreigners need one type, and every Frenchman visiting another town needs a different sort: he has to get it from the local Committee of Public Safety, and it is valid only for the journeys there and back. Now, milady, will you examine yours.”
    Sarah picked it up. The paper was coarse and greyish, and at the top was printed the arms of the Republic. The rest comprised a printed form, the blank spaces filled in with a pen. She was now Janine Ribère, born Thénaud in Falaise, wife of Charles, no children, hair blonde, complexion
jaunâtre.
(
Jaunâtre?
She thought for a few moments, combing her French vocabulary. Ah, yes, sallow. Well, certainly Gilbert was not trying to flatter her!) Purpose of journey: multiple visits to Brest to make purchases of food from the market. She nodded and put the page down again.
    Gilbert gave her another which had a seal on it and a flourish of ink which was an unreadable signature. It was smaller, had a coat of arms she did not recognize, but bore the name of the department beneath it.
    â€œThis, madame, is a certificate issued in Falaise, and saying, as you can see, that you were born there, with the date. And beneath the
préfet
’s signature is a note that you removed to the province of Brittany on your marriage. And beneath that the signature of the
préfet
of Brittany.”
    â€œAll these signatures!” Sarah exclaimed. “Supposing someone compares them with originals?”
    Gilbert smiled and took the sheet of paper. “If he does he will find they are genuine.
Préfets
sign these papers by the dozen and leave them to underlings to fill in the details.”
    â€œBut how did you get them?”
    â€œThat’s none of our business,” Ramage said. “Where did we get them from officially?”
    â€œMadame had this issued to her by the
mairie
in Falaise and it was signed in Caen (the
préfet
gives the name). Then she had the addition made at the
préfecture
here. The
passeport,
too, comes from the
préfecture
in Brest. I shall point it out to you.”
    He took a second set of papers. “These are yours, milord. The same kind of documents but you see there is one extra—your discharge from the navy of France. Dated, you will notice, one month before your wedding. The ship named here was damaged in a storm at Havre de Grâce and is still there.