Gideon the Cutpurse (15 page)

* * *

"Was that Lord Luxon?" asked Peter.
"It was he. He saved me."
"He can't have been that bad if he'd do a thing like that."
"On that day and on many others I saw him display great character. When I asked him afterward why he had shown me such kindness, he told me, 'Any fool could see you were starving. I do not condemn you for trying to keep alive even though there are those who would.' I have never forgotten it. It is one of the sorrows of my life to have witnessed how Lord Luxon squandered the fine qualities he was born with."
"Were you badly injured by the dog?" asked Peter.
Gideon pulled down a stocking for Peter to see the scars running like white rope up his calf.
Peter gulped. "That's bad. That's really bad. You're braver than me. I couldn't have stood that."
"No. Physical pain is over as soon as it stops. Other things take longer to heal."

* * *

The three spires of Lichfield Cathedral rose up majestically above green meadows. They rode past the cathedral pond and onward toward the George Inn. As they rode into the yard, Kate ran out to greet them. "The parson's just returned with the news. Ned Porter escaped from the magistrate's cellar during the night!"
I WAS STARVING. I HAD NEVER KNOWN HUNGER LIKE IT BEFORE OR SINCE. ANYONE WHO HAS NOT FELT HUNGER CLAWING AWAY AT HIS ENTRAILS UNTIL HE FEARS HE WILL GO MAD WILL NOT COMPREHEND WHAT I FELT. I BELIEVE I WOULD HAVE DONE ANYTHING FOR A MOUTHFUL OF THAT BEEF PIE. I KNEW IT WAS NOURISHMENT PREPARED BY A STRANGER'S HAND AND NEVER INTENDED TO SUSTAIN ME, BUT THE TEMPTATION WAS TOO GREAT.
I HAD NOT THOUGHT OF MY MOTHER IN ALL THE DAYS SINCE I HAD RUN AWAY, AND YET IT WAS THEN THAT HER FACE APPEARED TO ME. IN ANOTHER MOMENT, I SAID TO MYSELF, I SHALL BE A THIEF, LET THE LORD FORGIVE ME. AND THEN I REMEMBERED JOSHUA AND I ATE.
I HAVE OFTEN WONDERED SINCE, WHAT MY FATE WOULD HAVE BEEN HAD I RESISTED, FOR THAT FIRST CRIME LED TO OTHERS. WOULD I HAVE DIED THAT BITTER WINTER OR WOULD I HAVE LED A BETTER LIFE?

--THE LIFE AND TIMES OF GIDEON SEYMOUR,
CUTPURSE AND GENTLEMAN,
1792

TWELVE
A Parliament of Rooks
In which Detective Inspector Wheeler is perturbed by a photograph, Kate talks to a famous scientist, and Peter sees something very shocking

Peter's mother was talking to the head of the Hollywood film studios that were financing the film she was working on. Mrs. Schock told him that she would not be returning to California until Peter was found. She listened to what he had to say and then put the phone down slowly with a quiet click.

* * *

Peter's father was waiting for her in their car outside the hotel, the engine running. They were due to see Detective Inspector Wheeler at the Dyers' farm at half past two.
"How did he take it?" Peter's father asked as he drove off.
"Well, he made the right kind of sympathetic noises but the delay in shooting has already cost them a quarter of a million dollars. It sounds like there's already a long queue of people willing to step into the breach."
"I bet," said Mr. Schock. "I thought it wouldn't be long before the vultures started to circle overhead."
The narrow road clung to the shoulder of a high peak, and suddenly a magnificent vista swept into view. The previous night's snow still clung to the high ground despite the sunshine, and a bitter cold wind buffeted the car. Mr. Schock tried not to think about Peter and Kate being caught out in these conditions--or worse.
"He said that as I'd lived and breathed this film for five years, no one could really replace me. Which hasn't stopped him terminating my contract. He's appointing another producer this afternoon."
"I'm so sorry," said Mr. Schock, resting his hand on hers.
"Are you? I didn't think you would be. I'm not. You can replace a producer, but you can't replace a mother. The film as good as robbed Peter of his mother from the age of seven." She tried hard not to cry but the tears came anyway. "I wish I'd stayed at home with him; I wish I'd walked him to school; I wish I'd invited his friends over for tea and made them chocolate brownies, and now...and now I might never see him again to say that I am sorry for being a bad mother."
The tires squealed as Mr. Schock pulled over to the side of the deserted road and switched the engine off.
"Don't say that!" he shouted at his wife. "We are
not
going to give up hope. Peter's out there. I don't know where, but he is. And you are
not
a bad mother. Sure, your career hasn't made things easy for any of us, but you've only got one life and if you'd have stayed at home with Peter, I believe you would have gone mad. Don't torture yourself like this--neither of us is a perfect parent, but we love him and we've done the best we can in the circumstances. I know he misses you but he's
proud
of you too. You
will
see Peter again, and when he grows up he
will
understand."

* * *

Beneath an overcast sky Parson Ledbury and Gideon talked earnestly in the cobbled courtyard behind the George Inn. Peter and Kate were each perched on a dolphin--a low post to which horses could be tethered at the entrance to the narrow alley that led from the courtyard into Bird Street. The three spires of Lichfield Cathedral could be seen towering above the rooftops. Peter had been telling Kate about the footpads' abandoned camp, and then Kate had told Peter how the magistrate had arrived with the shocking news of the highwayman's escape minutes after Gideon and Peter's departure.
"So how did Ned manage to get out of the cellar, then? There weren't any windows, were there?"
"No, and the trapdoor was padlocked from the outside. The magistrate took the only key to bed with him. It's a total mystery," said Kate.
"Didn't they hear anything?"
"No."
"If we were locked up, I bet we could blur our way out," remarked Peter.
"You're right! That'd be so cool! I'm going to try it out when I get the chance.... By the way, you haven't blurred since the supermarket car park, have you?"
"No," replied Peter.
"No, neither have I," said Kate. "It's weird because I was beginning to think it only happens when you are either about to fall asleep or about to wake up. But it didn't happen to me last night or this morning."
"Have you tried to blur again on purpose?" asked Peter.
"No, there's always been someone around. I just hope we can manage to blur our way out of this without the machine, because I'm telling you, I don't want to meet the Tar Man again if I can help it."
"When we get back to our time, do you think we'll start blurring back to the eighteenth century?" said Peter.
"Ooh," said Kate. "I hadn't thought of that."
"It'd be great in history lessons," said Peter. "'Who can tell me the date of the French Revolution, boys?' 'If you'd just give me a moment, miss, I'll go back and check. Anything else you'd like to know while I'm there?'"
Kate suddenly looked serious. "What do you think would happen if we let slip what we knew was going to happen in the future? I mean, do you remember the way Mrs. Byng talked about America, like it was this unimportant, wild country. She said the best thing about America was that it saved money on prisons--you could just transport criminals there to work on the plantations."
"I thought they sent prisoners to Australia," said Peter.
"They did but I don't think Captain Cook has discovered Australia yet. Can you imagine what the Byngs would say if we told them America was going to become a superpower and send men to the moon and be the richest country on earth? They'd faint."
"Parson Ledbury wouldn't believe us," said Peter. "I heard what he thinks about America." Peter imitated the parson's deep, booming voice: "'That bothersome little colony is more trouble than it's worth. King George may be monstrous attached to it, but I say the day America amounts to anything I'll eat my hat!'"
Kate laughed. "Is that what he said?" she asked, a grin spreading over her face.
"Yes."
"Oh, I wish we could tell him! It'd be so cool to see the expression on his face."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about the future at all," said Peter. "If we did say something, they'd only think we were mad--but who knows what effect it could have."
"Yeah," agreed Kate. "We'd better keep our mouths shut. It's tempting, though."
Oh, no,
thought Peter guiltily,
maybe I shouldn't have told Gideon about telephones and police cars and stuff. Oh well, it's too late now.
Hannah appeared presently, coming out of the stable door at the rear of the inn, Jack trailing behind her. She was carrying a basin.
"Ah, you're back, Master Schock," she said with a friendly smile, "just in time to eat some pork pie with us." Hannah looked at the contents of the bowl and then looked back at Kate and Peter.
"I do hope you two children do not have delicate stomachs. Perhaps it's best you look away, for the good doctor has seen fit to bleed Sidney and the driver."
Hannah walked over to the gutter at the bottom of the yard. After what she'd said, Peter, Kate, and Jack trooped after her, of course, as she tipped the basin and poured quantities of dark red blood into the stagnant rainwater in the blocked gutter. Dozens of wasps and flies seemed to appear out of nowhere and buzzed around it.
"He bled them?" Kate exclaimed in disgust.
"He did it as a precaution on account of both them having had hard blows to the head. Better to be safe than sorry. Jack held the bowl for the doctor, didn't you, my little master?" asked Hannah.
"He pricked their vines until their blood fell
plop
,
plop
,
plop
into the basin," commented Jack, his face very proud and serious. "I held Sidney's hand."
"They are called veins, not vines, Master Jack, veins like weather vanes," explained Hannah.
"Oh, that is so gross," exclaimed Kate, her voice echoing around the courtyard as she watched the blood flowing down the slimy gutter. "What an awful thing to do to someone who's already feeling ill. Is he a proper doctor?"
Peter tugged on Kate's sleeve. She turned to look at him and he gave a slight backward nod with his head.
Parson Ledbury and Gideon were standing with a plump, youngish gentleman in a heavily powdered wig and snowy white shirt. He was wiping his hands with a cloth, and he gave off an air of quiet calm and competence.
"I hope you will excuse my young charge's impertinence," said Parson Ledbury. "She does not understand how honored we are by your attendance on us."
"I assure you I take no offence, Parson Ledbury," replied the gentleman. "The sight of blood is always alarming to those unused to it."
"Master Peter Schock, Mistress Kate," announced Parson Ledbury grandly, "this gentleman is none other than Dr. Erasmus Darwin, whose medical prowess is such that even the King of England would have him as his physician."
Gideon, who stood behind the doctor and the parson, gestured to Peter to bow, which he did. Kate, though, stood there openmouthed and neither curtsied nor said a word.
"I am happy to make your acquaintance, children, and can assure you that young Sidney and your driver are perfectly comfortable and, after another hour or two's rest, will be ready to resume their journey."
"You are Dr. Erasmus Darwin?" asked Kate incredulously.
Bemused, the doctor nodded his head and smiled. "I am none other."
"Oh, how my parents would love to meet you! We have named a cow after you on our farm, sir," she said, which made both the parson and the doctor laugh out loud.
"Now that is indeed an honor, is it not, Parson?" said Dr. Darwin. "I trust she is a good milker!"
"And," continued Kate, "you will become a great scientist and inventor and your grandson, who will be called Charles, will discover something that will change the world forever."
"Uh-oh," said Peter under his breath. "Now she's done it."
Dr. Darwin stopped laughing and, rather taken aback, looked searchingly into Kate's face. The parson, unusually, was at a loss to know what to say, but Gideon stepped forward.
"Some of the members of Kate's family have the gift of second sight. They can predict the future. Although I am sure Mistress Kate would be the first to admit their predictions do not always come to fruition."
Kate looked at Gideon and shook her head as if she had just woken up, and suddenly looked confused and embarrassed.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she said to Dr. Darwin. "Please take no notice of me. I didn't realize what I was saying. It's all nonsense."
Dr. Darwin smiled at her and to save her embarrassment knelt down next to Jack and started up a conversation with him.
"So, Master Jack, you hope to see the King and have him lay his hands on you to cure you of the scrofula?"
"Yes, sir, I have the King's evil."
Dr. Darwin gently felt Jack's neck while he spoke to him.
"You do, Jack, but I am happy to say it is not a serious case. I fancy you are resisting the infection. I attended the mother of Dr. Samuel Johnson, who lived in Lichfield until her death," said Dr. Darwin, "and she told me that her famous son also suffered from the King's evil as a child. But unlike you, Dr. Johnson suffered grievously from the infection. You cannot help but notice the scars he has carried from it for the rest of his life. When he was even younger than you, two years old or thereabout, his mother took him to London in order that Queen Anne could lay her hands on him. Her Majesty gave him a gold touchpiece, which he hangs around his neck to this very day. And look at Dr. Johnson now: a respected man of letters, the author of the first dictionary of the English language, and, according to some, although
I
remain to be convinced, London's greatest wit."
"So that's who Dr. Johnson was, is, I mean," whispered Peter to Kate. "He wrote the first dictionary. Margrit said if I found out what Dr. Johnson was famous for, she'd buy me a present."
"
Everyone
knows that," whispered Kate back.
"Oh yeah? Well, I might not know who Dr. Johnson is but at least I know when to keep my mouth shut," Peter replied.
Kate looked shamefaced. "I'm sorry; it just came out. It won't happen again. Anyway, I bet I know what present Margrit would give you."
"What?"
"A dictionary!"
Peter pulled a face.
Dr. Darwin was still talking with Jack, crouching down on the cobbles next to him. "Sidney says that the sweat of a hanged man would cure me too. He wants to go to Tyburn to get some," said Jack.
"It is not something I would recommend, Master Jack, neither for you nor for him. But by all means go to the Court of St. James. You will like King George, and I am quite certain that he will like you. You must tell him that Mistress Kate has named a cow after Dr. Darwin in Lichfield--it will amuse him. He is so fond of farming that some of his courtiers call him Farmer George."
"There, Master Jack," said Hannah, "you might tell King George about your cabbage patch and how you and your mama frightened away the rabbits." Then in a lower voice so Jack might not hear, she asked, "How ill is he, Dr. Darwin?"
"The swellings in his neck are small and there is no sign of ulceration. He has good color, nor is he too thin. Let him eat well, retire early, take moderate exercise and, if he can be persuaded, cold baths. If he suffers too much from night sweats, you should have him bled. Nothing is certain in this life, but the King's evil does not seem to have the better of young Jack."
"Did Queen Anne's touch cure good Dr. Johnson like it did Mrs. Byng's own father?" Hannah asked.
"I cannot say for certain, my dear," replied the doctor. "Although I do know it gave Mrs. Johnson great comfort. In any case, as the whole world knows, even with a scarred face and blind in one eye and deaf in one ear, Samuel Johnson has achieved more in one lifetime than most men would in six--with or without the scrofula!"