‘Oh no!’ said Kate. ‘That’s hundreds of miles away!’
‘Yes, Parson Ledbury said that it would take between two to three days to reach Northumberland, even if you changed horses frequently.’
This last news was too much for Peter. ‘He’s going to die!’ he wept. ‘Gideon is going to die because of us. And there’s nothing we can do about it! We shouldn’t have let him ride in that race!’
Kate put her arms around Peter and held him tight. She did not contradict him. After all, she thought sadly, if it wasn’t for Gideon helping them he would probably be back in Derbyshire by now, settled in Hawthorn Cottage and about to start a new life as the Honourable Mrs Byng’s new estate manager.
‘You found a true friend in Gideon, didn’t you?’ asked Dr Dyer.
Peter could only nod his head.
Sir Richard and Parson Ledbury worked tirelessly on Gideon’s behalf. They tried to see Lord Luxon at his London residence in Bird Cage Walk and were told that he had returned to Tempest House. So they rode on horseback to Surrey and presented their cards at the door. Lord Luxon refused to see them and when they tried to force their way in he had them thrown out. As they galloped away from Tempest House Sir Richard turned around and saw Lord Luxon observing their departure from the topmost balcony.
‘Murderer!’ he roared at him. ‘I knew your father – he would be ashamed! You condemn Gideon for being a better man than you!’
Lord Luxon turned his back on them and retreated into his mansion.
By nightfall Sir Richard and Mr Leche had put together a document which they hoped would prove Gideon’s innocence or at least put into doubt the court’s verdict. A messenger was sent with all speed after the King and Queen, with the instruction to go on to Alnwick Castle if King George had already left for Northumberland.
Now all they could do was wait. The following day was a Sunday and they heard that Gideon had attended a special service for the condemned in Newgate Chapel. The Ordinary, as the Newgate clergyman was called, preached a sermon while those who were shortly to die sat around a black coffin placed in the centre of the chapel. Gideon was not allowed visitors but Sir Richard sent food and wine to the prison twice a day and paid a turnkey handsomely to ensure that it was Gideon who got it.
When Dr Dyer saw how hard the children had taken the news about Gideon, particularly Peter, he was keen to distract them. The three of them went on long walks to explore the city. He bought a small leather-bound book in Fleet Street in which he made copious notes, and bemoaned his lack of a digital camera several times a day. He took enormous delight in the language and the food and the customs of the age. He liked to imitate the Parson: ‘Gadzooks, sir!’ he would say at every opportunity and, ‘Upon my word!’ and, to a waitress in a chop house recommended by Sir Richard, ‘Confound your Beef Tremblante, madam, I’m for plain eating. Bring me a pork pie and a tiff-taffety cream!’ which made even Peter laugh out loud. They sat in coffee houses and listened to wags and dandies exchanging witticisms and men of letters engaging in serious debate; they watched gentlemen take snuff and gesticulate with foamy, lace handkerchiefs, and saw ladies throwing seductive glances to their beaux over fluttering painted fans. They admired the extravagant costumes of the day and noted the stink of the people wearing them … They witnessed the life of the street from hackney coaches and once, thrillingly, from sedan chairs.
One evening, walking through the maze of narrow streets beyond St Paul’s Cathedral, they looked up, trying to get their bearings. Dr Dyer remarked on how many churches they could see.
‘All these spires rising towards the heavens … it’s all banks and insurance companies in our time. Thank goodness St Paul’s survived the Second World War …
‘I’m beginning to hate knowing what is going to happen,’ said Peter. ‘We did tell Parson Ledbury that America is going to be a superpower – it was worth it just to see his face! – and Kate let on to Erasmus Darwin that his grandson was going to go down in history … But thinking about the First World War and the Second and the Holocaust and Hiroshima … I really wish I didn’t know. And it makes you wonder if there’s any way you could stop it …’
‘Dad,’ said Kate, ‘do you think our time will be affected because we have come here?’
‘I don’t know. I guess we’ll find out when we get back. And there’s something that’s been really bothering me. You know how the poacher got transported to the twenty-first century on the day of the race, on July 26th?’
‘Yes. And …?’
‘Well, I arrived with the poacher on the 21st – and what’s bugging me is this: how many poachers and anti-gravity machines were there between the 21st and the 26th? Think about it.’
Kate and Peter stopped walking and looked at each other, frowning.
‘But that’s not possible. I mean, how could that be?’ asked Peter.
‘It makes my head hurt,’ said Kate. ‘Surely it must be against the laws of nature or physics or something …’
‘Well, I can only think of two explanations, neither of which makes me feel any better. The first possibility is that for five days there were duplicate poachers and anti-gravity machines. The second possibility relies on the Parallel Worlds hypothesis. Put simply, to avoid a time anomaly like this one, the universe splits at the point of conflict. In other words, by coming back in time with the poacher, I am responsible for the creation of a duplicate universe.’
‘You mean there’s one universe where Peter and I are still alone in 1763 without any hope of getting back and there’s this one where you’re here with the anti-gravity machine?’
‘Exactly.’
‘Then the same would be true of when we arrived!’ exclaimed Peter. ‘There’d be one universe where Kate and I left your laboratory and went back for lunch and another one when we were sent back in time …’
‘I know,’ said Dr Dyer. ‘But take your pick – duplicate poachers or duplicate universes. Although no doubt there’s an entirely different explanation we haven’t thought of …’
‘… And I woke up and it was all a dream …’ said Kate.
‘I wish!’ said Dr Dyer.
Peter liked Dr Dyer very much but he did not feel as easy being in this threesome as he did when it was just him and Kate. And, of course, the presence of Kate’s father highlighted for him the absence of his own. Although they kept so busy, for Peter the hours passed slowly, as if in a dream. There was always a part of him that was thinking of Gideon and hoping for the arrival of a messenger from the King, always a lingering feeling of guilt that somehow this was all his fault … Meanwhile Molly stuck to Kate like a limpet, never letting her mistress out of her sight, just in case she disappeared again …
It was during these long days of waiting that they decided to tell Sidney and Hannah the truth about who they were. They also told Jack but he did not really understand and soon went back to playing with the skittles his uncle had bought him. At first Hannah seemed to take the news in her stride then, after half an hour, she became hysterical. However, a glass of Sir Richard’s best Madeira wine calmed her down and she admitted that she always found Peter’s and Kate’s manners a little peculiar and, having seen both children’s trainers, said that she was disappointed that shoes in the future were quite so unsightly.
It took a long time to convince Sidney that they were telling the truth for he suspected that Peter was trying to make a fool out of him. Kate had to ask Sir Richard to confirm their story and when he did Sidney threw himself into a rage because he had not been told earlier.
‘Could I not have been entrusted with this secret? You have been toying with me, Mistress Kate! It cannot have escaped your attention that my affection for your person has been growing with every day. Why could you not have found it in your heart to tell me that I was scattering my hopes on barren ground!’
‘But I didn’t …’ protested Kate, taken aback by Sidney’s outburst. She watched him traipse tearfully off to Lincoln’s Inn Fields where he sat
alone on a bench.
‘Oh dear, poor, poor Sidney,’ said Kate, looking at him from the drawing room window. ‘I didn’t realise …’
Peter stood at her shoulder. ‘He’ll get over it,’ he said, a tad unsympathetically.
Dr Dyer looked over at Kate and Peter and smiled to himself.
When, eventually, Sidney returned to the house, Sir Richard had a quiet word with him in his study. When Sidney came out, he found Kate and apologised to her for his hasty words. He offered to do anything he could to ensure her safe return home.
‘Sidney’s not bad once you get to know him, is he?’ commented Kate to Peter once Sidney was out of earshot.
‘I suppose not,’ he replied.
On the evening of July 31st everyone gathered in the drawing room of Sir Richard’s house in Lincoln’s Inn Fields. They had to make a decision. Would they go to Tyburn to witness the hanging of Mr Gideon Seymour the following day?
They talked late into the night. If the King had decided to pardon Gideon, the messenger might well arrive too late. Everyone was of the same mind: they could not, they agreed, permit Gideon to die alone. They would not abandon him. They would all go to Tyburn, from the eldest to the youngest.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Tyburn
In which the party gather at Tyburn,
the Tar Man makes an unexpected appearance
and this story comes to an end
The day was too sunny for a hanging day, thought Kate as they set out for Tyburn in two carriages. Sir Richard rode on horseback behind them. In the distance the bells of St Sepulchre tolled for the condemned. The streets were thronged with people going to see the executions. It was a public holiday and the crowds were relaxed and loud and cheerful. There was much laughter and singing, and street hawkers sold their oysters and puddings and grey peas while people with tankards of ale gathered outside the numerous taverns that lined the route between Newgate and Tyburn. Suddenly, as the party were approaching the Oxford Road, the crowd started to roar behind them and the shouts reached their carriage like a tidal wave. The procession of carts that carried the condemned from Newgate to their place of execution – the day’s entertainment – was on its way. Sir Richard rode up to the carriage window which Peter, Kate and her father shared with Parson Ledbury and told them that he was going to ride back up High Holborn to meet the carts. He wanted to know if Peter would like to come with him. Peter did not need to be asked twice. He opened the door and clambered onto Sir Richard’s horse.
Before departing, Sir Richard rode alongside the carriage for a moment and addressed its occupants: ‘This will be an ordeal for us all. Hope for the best outcome but prepare yourselves for the worst.’
Sir Richard then rode on to speak to Sidney, Hannah and Jack.
‘We will meet again at Tyburn!’ he shouted. ‘May God be with us all this day!’
Then he turned his horse around and he and Peter set off in pursuit of Gideon, cutting a passage through the heaving mass of Londoners.
Peter could not distinguish Gideon at first. There were three carts, each one surrounded by half a dozen uniformed guards on horseback carrying pikes. The four highwaymen who were to be hanged alongside Gideon were tied up in pairs. Gideon had a cart to himself and, like the other prisoners, he shared it with his own coffin. His arms were tied with the rope he would be hanged with and he was facing backwards. The condemned men had all been given a loose linen shirt to wear over their clothes and a kind of soft cap. It was impossible for Sir Richard to get close to Gideon because of the guards and all the people pushing up against the cart. The leader of the gang of highwaymen was notorious but popular with the crowd and as the carts rolled slowly through the Oxford Road the condemned were cheered and weeping girls threw flowers at him.
‘Gideon!’ Peter shouted until he was hoarse. Eventually Gideon responded and scanned the crowd for a familiar face. When he spotted Peter his face lit up and he smiled and nodded, for he was unable to wave. Sir Richard forced his way closer to the cart.
‘Do not lose hope!’ shouted Sir Richard. ‘There is time for the King’s pardon to arrive yet! Do not lose hope – there is still time!’
Peter waved and waved and gave Gideon the thumbs-up sign and smiled as hard as he could even though he felt that his heart was breaking. Then Sir Richard was forced to fall back and they followed Gideon’s cart, always keeping him in sight so that he knew he was not alone. After an hour the procession stopped at a tavern so that the prisoners could have a last drink, and, as Sir Richard commented, any delay that would allow the King’s messenger to arrive in time was very welcome.
Then the carts set off on the last stage of their journey. Progress was slow through the packed streets. However, by half past ten they left London behind and the rolling hills of Middlesex came into view. By a quarter to eleven they caught their first glimpse of the place of execution: Tyburn.
Thirty thousand people were crammed around a simple wooden scaffold against a setting of green fields. The sun was now high in the sky and it was becoming uncomfortably hot. A single oak tree rose up against the horizon, offering some shade for those lucky enough to be able to sit beneath its branches. The crowd was chaotic. Soldiers and children jostled for a good spot with beggars and gentlemen. Some were on horseback and some were standing, packed like sardines, on carts and wagons. Children sat perched on their parents’ shoulders. Many carriages, including the two owned by Sir Richard, were scattered around the perimeter of the crowd. Those with money sat on specially constructed wooden stands called Mother Proctor’s Pews. Sir Richard rode to the back of the stands and pushed his way along the edge of them until they had a clear view of the scaffold.
When the carts arrived the crowd went quiet. Peter looked frantically around for any sign of the King’s messenger. How could he spot him? It was hopeless. They needed more time! Please let them have more time! He hoped the highwaymen would be hanged first to give the messenger a few more precious minutes to arrive. And then Peter realised what a terrible thing he had wished for and felt ashamed. He looked around him at the grotesque spectacle. It was shameful. Why were all these tens of thousands of people drawn here? Why were they compelled to look at another’s death? What did they get from it?
Peter looked over towards Mother Proctor’s Pews where Lord Luxon sat. He had hired, as was his custom, two full rows of seats at enormous expense. He was surrounded by pretty women dressed in white with flowers in their hair and by fops and macaronies, all of whom were in high spirits and eating chicken legs and gulping down wine from the bottle. Lord Luxon, too, was all in white. But he was not eating. Behind the forced smile of a gracious host at a social gathering, his fragile mask was beginning to crack. It seemed to Peter that his wild eyes revealed some of the guilt and horror he must now surely feel.
Sir Richard, too, was observing Lord Luxon. ‘That man,’ he said coldly, ‘will reap what he has sown in this world or the next …’
But it was not the highwaymen who were to be hanged first. Peter’s heart sank as he watched Gideon’s cart being guided underneath the gallows. The guards helped him to his feet, untied the rope that bound his arms, formed it into a noose and put it around Gideon’s neck. There was a murmur of excited anticipation from the crowd.
‘No!’ screamed Peter uselessly. ‘He’s innocent! You can’t do this!’
Sir Richard turned to Peter. ‘We must now despair of the King’s Pardon arriving in time. Are you ready to play your part?’
‘I am.’
The Newgate Ordinary climbed up beside Gideon and read from a small black Bible. Peter saw his friend’s lips move in prayer. Suddenly a slight young man with brown hair similar to his own pushed forwards towards the cart. Peter saw Gideon start at first in surprise and then put his arms around the weeping figure.
‘It’s Joshua, Gideon’s half-brother,’ exclaimed Sir Richard, tears welling in his eyes. ‘I must go to him. I visited Joshua two days ago on Gideon’s request to tell him that
he must on no account come to Tyburn and that he could rely on me to find him another position. I pity him for he has no one else in the world. Wait here while I fetch him – Joshua should not be alone and perhaps he can help us …’
Sir Richard dismounted and then seemed to change his mind.
‘Peter, I fear there may not be enough time … You must get to the carriage by yourself as quickly as you can. Are you able to ride my horse through this crowd?’
‘I’ll do my best, sir.’
‘Good.’
Sir Richard set off towards the scaffold, shoving people roughly out of his way in his haste. Peter watched Joshua clinging to his half-brother. He felt he should be up there with him, too. He wanted so much to say sorry for all of this – if it wasn’t for him and Kate and the stupid anti-gravity machine Gideon would be safe and sound in Derbyshire … He remembered Gideon telling the Honourable Mrs Byng at Baslow Hall that he should be happy if he did not see Tyburn again in his entire life … And here he was, scarcely two weeks later, with a noose around his neck … Gideon must not die! He must not die! Peter did not even notice that his own face was wet with tears. He looked over at Lord Luxon in Mother Proctor’s stands and a rush of hatred surged through him.
He wanted to drag him off the wooden stands and place him under the gallows instead. He wanted to …
‘Peter! Peter!’ It was Kate’s high voice that reached him across the crowds. ‘Move! Get here now!!!’
Peter did not need to be told twice – he urged Sir Richard’s horse forward, screaming at people all the while to get out of his way. It became easier as he approached the perimeter and the crowd grew less dense. Soon he managed to rejoin Kate and the Parson at the carriage and he clambered in. Kate took hold of Peter’s hand and together they watched through the window and waited.
Gideon the Cutpurse Page 31
