Black Hearts in Battersea (21 page)

The Duke looked quite bewildered at this tale—he always found it hard to take in many new ideas all at once—and as everybody was fatigued with emotion and excitement they decided to go to bed and leave the discussion of plans till next day.

All night the snow fell steadily, and by the morning it lay five feet deep in the castle court, and the drifts were three times the height of a man. From the embrasured windows nothing could be seen but a white wilderness in which the trees seemed to be standing waist-deep. But at dawn a pale sun rose, drawing brilliant sparkles from the icicles on the branches.

"Now," said Dr. Field, who was sitting with the Duke and Duchess at a late breakfast, "We have only two problems."

"What are they?" asked Sophie, pouring his chocolate.
She already felt a great confidence in his practical sense.

"You say that Cobb sent the Bow Street runners round to Rose Alley?"

"Yes, but I fear they will have found nothing. The Twites had been warned by Jem."

"There has been nothing about it in the papers," the Duchess put in.

"Neither Mr. Cobb nor the Bow Street officers knew that Buckle was involved?"

"No, for I overheard him plotting with Midwink
after
Mr. Cobb went to Bow Street."

"So Buckle at present thinks himself secure, and knows nothing of the loss of
Dark Dew
and
Dark Dimity.
Our two problems are to discover where the Hanoverians now keep their arms, and to reach London fast enough to take them by surprise."

"I have a very good notion of where the Hanoverians now put their arms," the Duke said. "Just before we left, Buckle asked me if he might house his fossil collection in Battersea Castle vaults. I said I had no objection, and gave him the key."

"Of course!" exclaimed Sophie. "That's why Midwink said, 'They'll never think of looking there.' You can enter the vaults from the tunnel, can you not? They could move the things in with very little risk of being seen."

"And as for traveling to London," pursued the Duke, "I have the most suitable equipage upstairs that could be devised—a strong, commodious, elegant air balloon, capable of carrying at least eight persons and their luggage for
hundreds of miles. Simon, my boy, which way does the wind blow?"

Simon, who had been gazing out of the window, deep in sorrowful reverie, jumped at being addressed, but replied readily enough, "It still blows from the north, your Grace."

"Nothing could be more convenient. I have been working on a steering device for the balloon, but I am not yet fully satisfied with it. A north wind, however, should blow us straight to London."

"Travel in a balloon!" exclaimed the Duchess, aghast. "William! Are you out of your mind? We should all be killed—blow away to the South Pole—starve—freeze to death—crash to the ground—stick in a tree—
oh,
the very idea gives me the vapors!"

"Nonsense, Hettie," said the Duke impatiently, as Sophie administered hartshorn and fanned the palpitating Duchess. "We shall be famously snug. We can take up a brazier to keep us warm, besides fur rugs and such gear, food, amusements, knitting, and so forth; then, if we want to descend, why, we merely pull the cord and slowly deflate the balloon. It's as simple as kiss your hand!"

Dr. Field was delighted at this plan.

"Besides," the Duke pursued, "have you forgotten the mince-pie ceremony on Christmas Eve? It is our loyal duty to be back for that."

"What is the mince-pie ceremony, your Grace?" inquired Dr. Field. "And where does it take place?"

"Why, you see," explained the Duke, "it is the hereditary duty of our family to furnish the King with mince pies, and the presentation always takes place in Battersea Castle on Christmas Eve. In fact we have the King to dinner, serve some mince pies at table, and give him a washbasket of 'em to take away afterwards, while the trumpeters blow a special tune called the Battersea Fanfare. If we start today—it's five days to Christmas—we ought to arrive in nice time for the ceremony."

Sophie, Simon, and Dr. Field looked at one another in dismay. With such a nest of vipers hiding under its roof, Battersea Castle seemed the most dangerous place in the world to invite King James III for a mince-pie dinner. Would there be time to clear out the Hanoverian conspirators beforehand?

"I daresay Buckle knows nothing about this ceremony?" Dr. Field said at last, hopefully.

"Pshaw, my dear fellow, he has made all the arrangements for years. Besides which, I wrote him by carrier pigeon last week, reminding him to have the mince pies baked in good time."

"This complicates matters," said Dr. Field, scratching his head. "As your Grace has pointed out, we must get going at once. We shall need plenty of food, charcoal, telescopes, a weapon or two—"

"Dominoes, playing cards, spilikins, billiard balls," noted Sophie, ticking them off on her fingers, "thank goodness, at least we need not fear wolves in a balloon—"

"But suppose there should be eagles!" cried the Duchess fearfully. "Oh, William! Need we really travel in this dreadful apparatus? I shall be unwell, I
know
I shall be unwell!"

"Smelling salts, hartshorn, spirits of wine," Sophie noted down.

"And, Sophie my dear, whatever else you put in, pray do not forget your Aunt Henrietta's embroidery!"

Four days later, on Christmas Eve, the great rose-colored balloon was drifting over the wooded heights of Hampstead.

Sophie, paying little attention to the snow-covered landscape as it passed slowly by beneath, was busily engaged with making a court dress for the Duchess to wear at the mince-pie ceremony; she sat in a whirlpool of apricot-colored velvet, which she was embroidering with topazes. Sometimes the Duke raised his head from the chessboard to say with a chuckle, "Bless me, Sophie, m'dear, it's fortunate that I built the car as big as I did; any smaller and, with all that stuff of yours, some of the passengers would have had to hang over the side!"

In fact, the wicker, galleon-shaped car, with its high-decked ends and low waist, was excellently adapted to their needs. Dr. Field and the Duke played chess at the forecastle end, Simon steered on the poop, directing the balloon's progress, when necessary, by means of a pair of dangling ropes, while Sophie with her dressmaking and
the Duchess with her patience occupied the central portion.

One night, when all the others were sleeping, snug under furs and sheepskin rugs, Simon had told Sophie the whole sad story of Dido's end, and his own grief and remorse that he had not been awake to stop her from trying to swim to shore.

"For I am sure that is what happened, and I should have saved her, Sophie."

"You must not think in that way, Simon dear, for it is wrong," Sophie said, affectionately clasping his hands. "You could do no more than you did—Mrs. Buckle has told me how ill you were. And—do you know?—somehow I cannot be sure that Dido is drowned. Somehow I believe that she is not."

"Why, Sophie, what else could have happened?"

"Oh, I do not know—perhaps a ship could have rescued her. I feel in my bones that we shall hear of her again. So do not grieve too much. You did all you could for her and were a deal kinder to her, I am sure, than any of her miserable family."

This talk with Sophie cheered Simon a great deal.

It was decided that, when they reached London, Simon should instantly repair to Chelsea Barracks, to enlist the help of the Yeomanry against the conspirators, while Dr. Field escorted the Duke and Duchess to Battersea Castle.

"For Buckle will scarcely try any of his villainy so long as he remains uncertain of Justin's whereabouts," he pointed out.

Justin had been offered a ride to London in the balloon, but had refused with horror; a sea voyage was quite bad enough, he declared. He was to remain at Loose Chippings with his mother, who would only come to London if it was needful to give evidence against her infamous husband.

"I will tell Dr. Furrneaux and the students that we are back, also," Simon suggested. "They are all good fellows who enjoy a fight and, being so close to the castle, they will be handy in case of trouble."

"You could arm them," Sophie observed, biting off a thread (she had completed the Duchess's gown and was now finishing one for herself, white tissue with gold ribbons). "If Uncle William has a spare key to the castle vaults on him, they could let themselves in and take some of the Hanoverians' Pictclobbers."

This sensible plan won instant approval and the spare key was handed to Simon.

The travelers were fortunate in the timing of their arrival over London. Snow had been falling all day, but toward dusk the clouds dispersed, drawing away westward in great high-piled crimson masses across which the balloon drifted south, inconspicuous against such a flaming background.

"We shall be able to take Buckle by surprise," Dr. Field said with satisfaction. "Good heavens," he added, looking down at the snow-covered city of London sprawling beneath them, pink in the sunset glow, "Wolves in Hyde Park already—before Christmas! I fear it is going to be a hard winter. Best prime your pistols, Simon; if they have
reached Hyde Park they may have reached Battersea Park; you may have to dash for it."

Soon they saw the Thames, a shining ribbon of ice that curled its way between Chelsea and Lambeth.

"There's Chelsea Hospital," Sophie said.

"Dear me! I had best reduce the pressure." The Duke gave a tug to the string which released the air valve; some air escaped, and the balloon's silken globe sank, crinkling and quivering, until they were barely above the rooftops.

"Oh, William! Pray take care!"

"I know what I am about, my dear," his Grace said testily.

In fact the Duke had misjudged his landing a little, but this turned out to be just as well, for he had proposed to alight in Battersea Park, which was full of wolves. Instead the balloon came to rest in Mr. Cobb's yard, where the proprietor was alone, greasing the runners of a high-perch phaeton sleigh.

"Weel I'll be drawed sideways!" he exclaimed. "If that ain't the neatest rig I ever did see! Simon, me boy! Well, I
am
pleased to see you! We'd given you up for lost, indeed we had—thought the wolves must 'a got you. And his Grace! And her Grace! And little Miss Sophie! Floss!" he bawled up the stairs, "here's our boy Simon back, safe and stout, wi' all the castle gentry! It be a proud day when your Graces sets foot in my yard!"

He helped the Duke and Duchess down, while Mrs. Cobb, and Libby with the kitten in her arms, came marveling out to gaze at the great rose-colored bubble that
had settled by their front steps.

"Thank'ee, thank'ee, Cobb, my man," the Duke said. "We should be greatly obliged if you could let us have a conveyance to take us to the castle."

"Why, your Graces can have thisyer phaeton sleigh, it's as sweet a little goer as ever slid, and I've a beautiful pair o' match grays, won't take but a moment to put them to. But that balloon! Dang me if that don't beat cockfighting, that do! I'll soon be in a new line o' business if sich things gets to be all the crack!"

He fetched a pair of horses and harnessed them to the sleigh, while Dr. Field helped the Duke and Duchess to their high-perched seats.

"Mr. Cobb," asked Sophie, climbing up behind them, "did the Bow Street runners find anything when they raided Rose Alley?"

"Nay, lass, the birds had flown. Someone must 'a peached, for never a soul was there, not so much as a grain of gunpowder. There, your Grace, that's all right and tight. Watch for the wolves in the park, sir, they be fair audacious. But these horses can show them a clean pair of heels. Is this gentleman a-going to drive?"

He handed the reins to Dr. Field.

"Much obliged, Cobb, thank'ee. Now, can you do us one more kindness? Can you ride like the wind to Bow Street and ask them to send some brisk, stout officers to the castle—we are expecting trouble, and his Majesty may arrive at any moment. Dear me, yes," the Duke said, inspecting his timepiece, "we must hasten. I hope Buckle
has everything in readiness; it was unfortunate that we were blown off course for two days. However I daresay all will be well—Buckle is such a capable fellow—in his way. Simon, my dear boy, we shall hope to see you at the castle directly you have informed Dr. Furrneaux and the Yeomanry."

With a creak and a jingle the sleigh sped away.

Mr. Cobb offered Simon a horse, or his own donkey, but he said that he could go faster on foot. He raced down to the academy where, most fortunately, Dr. Furrneaux was outside, superintending a snow fight between a dozen of his students on the frozen river, while the rest of them sat on the bank attempting with numb fingers to sketch the scene.

Dr. Furrneaux let out a cry of joy at sight of Simon, which, to anybody who did not know him, would have sounded more like a roar of fury.

"
Ah, scélérat, coquin, misérable! Méchant gars! Espèce d'espèce!
How do you dare to show your face, after being absent so many days and giving your poor old teacher so much worry! I will bastinado you, I will escallope you, I will use your head for a doorknob!" He hugged Simon and shook him with equal ferocity.

"It was not my fault, sir, I promise you!" Simon exclaimed, half laughing and half choking as he tried to escape from these signs of affection. "I have had such adventures—And, sir, I have found Dr. Field! He is back in London—he will come to see you very soon! But I must not stop to tell you now. Sir, his Grace the Duke asks a favor of
you. He has just returned to Battersea Castle, where there is a nest of Hanoverians. I am going for the Yeomanry, but meanwhile could some of the students station themselves near the castle—just to look out for trouble, you know?"

"
Entendu,
why certainly, nossing could be simpler.
Etudiants!
" roared Dr. Furrneaux, "away all, to Battersea Park, to sketch ze castle against ze sunset!"

"I say though, dear old sir," pointed out Gus, who stood nearby, "what about the wolves in the park? Know how it is when you're sketching—get absorbed—wolf sneaks up behind—poof, snip, snap, swallow!—and all your paint water's spilt."