"WE HAVE nothing! " Lucille insisted, "other than what you see." Maitre Lorcet took no notice of her protest. "The value of the gold amounted to 200, 000 francs, I believe?" Sharpe laughed. "Your friend Ducos spent half of that!»

"So? 100, 000 francs, " Lorcet said equably, as well he might, for the halved sum was still close to 50, 000 pounds, and a man could live in luxury on 200 pounds a year. "I wasn't alone when I took that gold, " Sharpe told the lawyer.

"Ask your friend, Sergeant Challon, " he jerked his head at the big man. "I was with General Calvet. You think he didn't want some of the gold? " Challon nodded confirmation, but Lorcet merely shrugged. "So you divided the treasure, " he conceded, "but you must have some left, surely?" Sharpe was silent. "I'11 hit him, Maitre, " Challon offered. "I detest violence, " the lawyer said. "Come, Major, " he pleaded with Sharpe, "you have surely not spent it all?" Sharpe sighed as though surrendering to the inevitable. "There's 40, 000 left, " he confessed, and heard Lucille's gasp of surprise. "Maybe a bit more, " he admitted grudgingly. Henri Lorcet smiled with relief for he had feared there would be nothing at the end of his long quest. "So tell me where it is, Major, " he said, "and we shall take it away and leave you in peace." It was Sharpe's turn to smile. "It's all in a Bank, Lorcet. It's in Monsieur Plaquet's bank in the rue Deauville in Caen. It's in a big iron-cornered box, locked in a stone vault behind an iron-ribbed door and Monsieur Plaquet has one key to the vault and I have the other." Sergeant Challon spat at the stove, then twisted and untwisted one of the long pigtails that framed his face.