Gideon the Cutpurse (20 page)

* * *

When Kate had finished speaking, Gideon declared that they would have to make their move quickly before Kate's absence was noticed. They were all crouching, huddled together about twenty feet behind the carriage. The bonfire crackled and spit, and its orange glow spread out toward them over the rough grass.
"Wait here," Gideon said softly. "I intend to recover Mrs. Byng's necklace."
Peter and Kate both looked alarmed.
"But it's you that they want, Gideon!" whispered Kate.
"Then they shall have to catch me first," he replied.
Peter and Kate watched Gideon as he headed for the far side of the great oak. Their argument was not forgotten, but this was not the time to pursue it. Gideon appeared to glide over the moonlit meadow. He did not make a sound. The children crawled nearer to the carriage on their hands and knees so they could follow his progress. A smell of fresh damp grass rose up from the cold earth.
Peter rubbed dirt onto his face. "Camouflage!" he whispered.
"You've been watching too many films."
"I'll be lucky if I see another one ever again."
"Keep your voice down!" whispered Kate. "Anyway, there's not much point me blacking my face when I'm wearing a great big flouncy dress like this."

* * *

Peter and Kate crept forward a little farther. Parson Ledbury was telling the footpads about the prodigal son, and snatches of his story floated toward them. Will and Stammering John hung on his every word, reprimanding the son and sympathizing with the father.
"Ay, 'tis a child's fate to stray and a father's to forgive," said Will.
"I n-n-never had a f-f-father," said Stammering John.
"Even the lowest, the most wretched, the most undeserving...the foulest smelling fellow," commented the parson, pointing up to the stars, "need never feel he is without a Father up in heaven."
Joe Carrick sucked on a rabbit bone, feigning indifference, but listened nonetheless. By now Will was slumped on the ground, insensible to everything. Opposite them Ned and Stinking John looked on. Neither had drunk any brandy. Ned's gaze rarely left Joe, and his hand rested on his pistol.
Will Carrick groaned and appeared to roll over into the dark shadows. None of the footpads noticed, but Peter did. He nudged Kate and pointed.
"What's Gideon up to?" he hissed.
Kate shrugged her shoulders. After a few seconds Will, his face scarcely visible under his hat, reappeared and stood up. Peter held his breath. An owl hooted.
"Brrrrr," Will said, and shivered. He turned up the collar of his jacket. "The ground is damp," Will continued, mumbling. He limped in front of the parson, so drunk he could scarcely keep upright.
"Pardon me, Parson!" he said, slurring his words. "Call of nature."
Will then proceeded to trip up, landing on the ground in front of Ned. He leaned heavily against him as he tried to pick himself up. The bonfire illuminated the handsome face of the highwayman. Ned heaved him off bad-temperedly, and Will grunted as he vanished into the darkness to do his business.
Moments later Gideon reappeared out of the night as if by magic. He sat down next to Kate and shrugged off Will's jacket and hat.
"It wasn't Will! It was you!" exclaimed Peter.
Then Gideon held up Mrs. Byng's necklace and released it, letting the rope of diamonds trickle onto Kate's lap. Kate picked it up and dangled it from her fingers. It was heavy and still warm from being in Ned's pocket. The diamonds sparkled blue and white in the light of the moon.
"For safekeeping," he said to her.
"Wow!" she replied.
"'Tis a pity I could not have taken his pistol, too, but he held it in his hand."
Peter could just make out Gideon's expression as he stood with his back to the moon, and he could see that his friend was allowing himself a broad grin of satisfaction.

* * *

Gideon did not need to tell Kate the story of his namesake, as she already knew it. If it were possible, he explained, to convince Ned and the footpads that they were surrounded and outnumbered, then they stood at least a chance of frightening them off without too much of a fight. Gideon would ride in circles around the encampment, galloping first this way and then that, blowing his horn, while the children would shout and make as much noise to startle them with whatever they found to hand.
Gideon gave Kate his knife.
"Crawl under the carriage, Master Peter, and stay there until the signal. Mistress Kate, you must cut through Master Sidney's bonds and tell him that help is at hand."
The children nodded and Gideon disappeared once more. Kate's dress made crawling impossible.
"Grrr! I am so
sick
of being a girl in the eighteenth century!"
Peter frowned at her and put a finger to his lips. Frustrated, Kate scowled back at him. Then she tried to gather up the full folds of her skirt and lift them above ground level, but when she did that she couldn't see in front of her and she put her knee on a dry branch, which broke with a loud crack. Both children froze and peered through the spokes of one of the carriage wheels at Ned and the footpads lounging around the fire. The parson had stopped speaking and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. Joe Carrick turned his head around lazily, half-conscious of a noise he could not explain, but then a gust of wind buffeted the oak tree and the fire crackled and spit and he turned back unconcerned. However, things did not remain calm for long.
"Where is it?" shouted Ned so that every face turned to look at him.
"What are you yelling about now?" growled Joe.
"Who has it? It is you, Will Carrick, is it not? You filched it not a moment past!"
"Quick! Cut Sidney loose!" whispered Kate urgently to Peter. She thrust the knife at him. "I can't move in this stupid dress. Something's going to happen. I know it is. We'd better be ready."
Peter gave Kate the thumbs-up and scampered to the far side of the cart. "Don't move!" he breathed into Sidney's ear. "Gideon's on his way."
Sidney nodded his head a fraction to show he had understood and braced his arms so that they did not spring apart when Peter had finished cutting the rope.
Ned leaped over the fire to where Will was snoring gently and kicked him in the ribs. Will cried out with the pain and shock of it and sat up with a start. He had pulled his knife out and brandished it in Ned's face even before he had come to his senses.
"Get away from me, you puffed-up peacock, or as God is my witness I'll take your eye out," he said.
Ned did not flinch. "Hand it over!"
"Hand what over?" asked Will, eyeing Ned's pistol.
"This is the last time I do a job with the Carrick gang. I'd sooner throw in my lot with a herd of pigs."
A shot rang out and there were gasps and stifled screams all around. Ned clutched his chest and swayed back and forth for a long moment. Joe's pistol smoked. Stammering John stepped forward, uncurled Ned's fingers from his pistol, and gave him the gentlest of pushes with the tips of his fingers. The highwayman crashed backward into the grass. A large dark stain covered half of Ned's sky blue jacket. No one spoke. The only sound, apart from the crackling of the fire, was the slow rhythmic snore of little Jack's miraculously untroubled sleep.
Parson Ledbury knelt down to see to Ned, who was barely conscious.
"You are determined to enter the gates of hell, I see," he said to Joe.
Stammering John crossed himself. Joe gave the parson a murderous look.
Oh, please don't provoke him!
said Kate to herself, willing him to keep quiet. Luckily for the parson, something distracted him. Fearing he was to be next on Joe's list, Stinking John shot up and made a dash for the horses.
"I'm not a squeaker!" he shouted as he mounted one of the horses. "You're welcome to my share of the rhino. Don't shoot me, that's all...."
Stammering John took aim with Ned's pistol and looked up at Joe for a decision.
"Save your powder," said Joe. "He won't cause us no trouble. He wouldn't dare. Stinking John always was lily-livered."
"Have you g-g-got the necklace, Will?" asked Stammering John.
"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied.
"I knew you had," laughed Joe. "There's no point denying it. You never could bear for anything to be taken off you. The way you forked him as if you was as drunk as a lord! Handsome!"
"Eh?"
Will was interrupted by Stammering John. "W-what was that?"
They all listened. Gideon's horn sounded in the distance--and then they could hear galloping that stopped abruptly only to start again a moment later. Then the horn sounded again, but this time it was nearer. Peter came to his senses, remembering what he was supposed to be doing, and sprinted out from under the carriage into the darkness. He kept on running, knowing he had to shout something, but couldn't think at first what it was Gideon had told him to say. Then it came to him. "Ahoy there!" he shouted. The phrase sounded a little on the nautical side, but that is what Gideon had said.
"Heave to, you slackers! My grandmother, God bless her soul, could walk faster than you landlubbers!" bellowed Gideon, sounding for all the world like a ship's bosun. "It's a fair old march to Lichfield and we have a dozen more shipmates to find before you can peel your boots off!"
Gideon's words rang out in the dark.
"By heaven, it's a press gang!" exclaimed Will under his breath. "There's a stroke of bad luck and no mistake."
"I d-d-don't want to serve in no navy," said Stammering John. "King George can keep his precious America--I don't want to d-d-die in some godforsaken land full of c-c-convicts and savages."
"No more do I," said Joe. "Sounds like there's a fair few of them. Fetch the prancers and be smart about it."
"Left, right, left, right, left, right..."
"Quickly, lads, they are almost upon us!"
Drunk and unsteady on their feet though they were, fear pushed the Carrick gang to career around the camp grabbing hold of their scattered possessions and the goods plundered from the carriage. Scarcely pausing to draw breath they shoved everything into saddle bags and threw them over the horses' backs. Will could find neither his jacket nor his hat and took out his bad temper on Tom, whom he cursed roundly. In the confusion Will and Stammering John bumped heads so hard they both fell over backward, howling in pain.
"Shut your faces, you numbskulls," growled Joe, "if you don't want to blow the widd."
Peter joined in with Gideon, making his voice as deep and rumbling as he could: "Left, right, left, right, left, right, me hearties!"
Peter's efforts brought a smile to Kate's face underneath the carriage. She was attempting to restrain Sidney, who was struggling to get up to show he was not afraid. She clung on to his hands.
"It's not worth it, Sidney," she said. "They'll be away in a minute. They've already knocked your teeth out. I don't want to see you hurt any more!"
At her words Sidney stopped struggling, and Kate felt his fingers squeeze hers. She gently but firmly pulled her hands away.

* * *

Parson Ledbury was straining to catch what Ned was saying to him and so did not even look up as the Carrick gang made off with his precious horses, nor did he notice Joe Carrick kicking Tom away as he attempted to clamber up beside him.
"I've had a belly full of your scrawny features," Joe shouted at Tom. "We've had nothing but bad luck since you arrived. Go on! Crawl back to the stinking 'ole you came from!"
When Tom hesitated, Joe slapped the side of his head so hard that he fell to the ground, rolling over and over in the dry leaves. When he came to a halt, he covered his head with his hands and didn't move. Then Kate watched, fascinated, as she glimpsed a small white mouse appear from under Tom's collar. He stroked it with one finger, then gently took hold of it and slipped it into his pocket.
"Parson," shouted Stammering John over his shoulder, "I can't see you t-t-taking to splicing the m-m-mainbrace. If I were you I'd m-m-make yourself scarce and be quick about it!"
Stammering John hesitated a moment before mounting one of the parson's chestnut mares. "Will you p-p-pray for us, Parson?"
"I shall not, you murderous coves!"
"N-n-no more than we deserve...Thank you, Parson..."
Joe grabbed hold of Stammering John's sleeve and slapped the flank of his horse.
"Move, you ninny, they are upon us!"
Joe cast a last look at the broken highwayman and spat at the ground. And with that the footpads rode off and vanished into the night.

* * *

After a moment Kate called out to everyone, "It's not a press gang! It's Gideon and Peter!"
"Thank the Lord!" exclaimed Hannah. "My nerves won't stand any more."
Sidney and Kate untied the driver, and Hannah ran over to help the parson with Ned. The parson knelt at Ned's side, puffing slightly with the effort of bending double.
"I did not imagine my life would be as it has been," Ned murmured. "Am I to die, Parson?"
"I am no doctor, Ned. But I think that you should make your peace with God."
Ned looked up at the stars twinkling through the leaves of the oak tree and let out a deep sigh.
"Are you in great pain?" asked Hannah.
"I feel nothing," he replied.
Hannah folded a handkerchief and placed it on the wound beneath his jacket. She bit her lip at the sight of the injury and pressed gently to try to stop the flow of blood.

* * *

Midnight's hooves announced Gideon and Peter's arrival. Parson Ledbury stood up and smiled broadly. He stepped forward and offered Gideon his hand, which he shook willingly.
"A press gang! An inspired notion, Mr. Seymour. Even footpads will go out of their way to avoid a press gang! I thank you, sir. I shall not forget this. You shall not go unrewarded."
Gideon inclined his head, suddenly unsure how to react to the parson. His gaze fell on Ned.
"To find everyone safe is reward enough, Parson. I heard the shot. I feared it was one of the party."
The parson turned to Peter and crushed his hand in his.
"Well done, my lad! I knew you would find out the meaning of bottom!"
"Parson Ledbury," said Kate, "Gideon stole back the necklace from Ned Porter."
She walked toward him, holding up the diamonds, which swayed and sparkled in the light of the fire. The parson gasped and then, grabbing hold of Kate's two hands, swung her round and round and did a little jig.
"Perhaps you would care to put on your jacket and trousers, Parson," suggested Hannah.
Kate laughed out loud.
"I feared it was lost forever!" cried Parson Ledbury. "I have been imagining the accusing expression on my dear cousin's face.... The necklace is quite irreplaceable, a family heirloom. Oh, happy day!"
With what strength he had left, Ned laughed, a little bitterly. He beckoned weakly to Gideon with one finger. Gideon knelt down next to Ned and took his hat off.
"So Will did not have the necklace. It was you, Mr. Seymour. I have taken this shot for nothing. You are a skillful cutpurse. It is no wonder that the Thief-taker does not wish to lose you."
"I have sworn an oath," Gideon replied. "I will neither betray Lord Luxon nor ever work for him again. He knows this."
An ironic smile passed over Ned's contorted features.
"I don't think he believes you, Mr. Seymour."
"Lord Luxon, a thief-taker!" exclaimed the parson.
Gideon stood up and walked away. He appeared angry with himself. Now Peter crouched down next to the highwayman.
"Why won't Lord Luxon let Gideon go if he's sworn not to betray him?"
Ned turned to look at Peter.
"Have you not heard tell of Mr. Seymour's skill? There is no one like him. He is Lord Luxon's favorite. He is more than his cutpurse--he is his conscience. The rest of the world might see Lord Luxon as the devil by any other name, but your Mr. Seymour is determined to see some good in him. Besides, a thief-taker can't let people walk away whenever they please--he is forced to make an example of him."
"I don't understand," said Peter. "What does Gideon know that makes Lord Luxon frightened to lose him?"
Ned laughed and then started to cough. A trickle of blood appeared at the side of his mouth.
"Master Schock, you must let him rest," said Hannah. "He has a grievous wound."
Ned, however, continued. "Your Mr. Seymour knows what every rogue in London knows--that nothing is stolen nor fenced, that no one is robbed nor killed, that no one squeaks on another nor pays the straw men to get 'em off, without the Thief-taker and his henchman getting to hear about it. Only for the rest of us, the Thief-taker is naught but a distant figure, an elegant gentleman in his fine coach. If you put us at the same table he wouldn't know us and we wouldn't know him. And as for the fops and lords and ladies that pay court to him--they don't know or even suspect the half of it. But Gideon--he's seen enough to have his master hanged at Tyburn ten times over. If I'd have been in Lord Luxon's shoes, your Mr. Seymour would have had his throat cut long ago."
Ned slumped back, exhausted, and Hannah motioned to Peter to leave before Ned was tempted to talk any more. She poured a little water into the highwayman's mouth. Ned's words horrified Peter. He glanced over at his friend, who was busy repacking the trunks whose contents were scattered all over the camp. Gideon was in even more danger than Peter had thought. It was easy to see why the Tar Man was so very determined to take him back to his master.
Peter walked over to join Kate, who was trying to persuade Tom to get up off the ground.
"We're not going to hurt you. We're not like the Carrick gang. We'll help you get home."
Sidney stood behind her. "Help this vermin!" he exclaimed. "Never!"
Kate lost her temper.
"Stop being such a pompous, stuck-up idiot!" she shouted. "Do you think you'd be any better than him in his shoes?"
Tom looked at Kate in wonderment through a crack in his fingers. Sidney seemed crestfallen. Peter could not help smirking, and Gideon, too, looked away for fear she would see his smile.
"Well," she continued hastily, giving Peter a cursory glance, "at least Sidney is brave--unlike some people who don't mind leaving their friends in the lurch--"
Kate stopped in full flow when she heard Hannah's gasp. They all looked over toward her, crouched down at Ned's side.
"The highwayman is dead," said the parson. He passed his hand over Ned's forehead and closed his eyelids.
It was at that moment that little Jack chose to wake up. He tottered sleepily over to Hannah. "I'm thirsty," he said.
"Oh, Master Jack," said Hannah. "Lord bless you!"
And she hugged him.