‘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 Majesty to 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.’