Tom Brownings Schooldays

Tom Browning's Schooldays

By

Joel

Chapter SeventyFive

We must have been weary after all the excitement, plus the two glasses of claret and the glass of port we each had been given with no stinting. I think my father had instructed Jackson to make sure our glasses were filled as he knew that amount would help us to sleep. It must have been a little after five when Benjy came to waken us. He did this quietly and quite respectfully as he must have seen George's fair head on the pillow between us. He left the sconce of candles and went to fetch Eamonn and one of the kitchen-boys who would supply us with pitchers of hot water. Our faithful servants had risen early to speed us on our way.

We had slept well and George said he was ready for the journey as soon as he had breakfasted. Trust George to mention his belly! We made sure we used the new water closet before we washed and dressed. Each of us were clad in our school clothes, Robin and I in black cloth britches and jackets and George in his trousers and good tweed coat. All was quiet in the house as we made our way down to the breakfast-room. Mrs Gray had prepared the usual good things and I slipped down to the kitchen after to thank her. "Bring that dear boy back safely," was her heartfelt plea as the good woman hugged me as he had on many occasions over the years.

We collected our capes and hats and went to the side entrance. My father and Mr Jarvis were there inspecting the curricle with two grooms holding onto the two fine geldings already bridled and between the shafts. We were instructed only to take geldings on offer and to make sure they matched in size. This pair would take us fifteen miles if we did not try to race them. Mr Jarvis gave Robin a map with clear instructions of the route and named post-houses. He had marked the mileage between them as well. Other than this pair we should not attempt more than eight or so miles with any others. An hour's drive was the maximum and then change. George showed his new watch and said we would obey! We started off to good wishes and a safe journey.

I was in charge of the reins for this first stage. I let the pair start at a steady trot down the drive and through the village. We saw a few men going to their workplaces and got cheery waves as news of our proposed journey must have travelled. Once out of the village I set the pair to a canter and made sure the curricle kept to the centre of the road which had the best surface. It was still half-light but we were soon blessed with the sun shining. The road was dry and for a good distance was well-made. I drove for about three-quarters of an hour and the horses did not seem to tire. At a stream we allowed them to drink and George took over the reins. He showed he was a good master and we only had to slow when lumbering carts were being driven towards us. On the hour we approached an inn which had been indicated on our map. Thirteen miles was the annotation. George said we should change horses here as our pair were now sweating hard. The inn-keeper had two geldings supplied from our own stables so these were hired and we set off again with me driving again.

Our good fortune continued and at ten o'clock we had progressed some thirty-five miles. What we had not realised was there was a hamper of cold sausages, sliced meats and bread under Robin's seat. There were also two small flagons of small beer and as we waited for our next pair to be placed between the shafts we had a small repast. George delayed us for a minute or so as he needed to lower his trousers as the jolting of the vehicle had loosened his bowels so he told us. A thoughtful Robin had placed some soft paper in his travelling bag which George gratefully accepted. By midday we were within sight of Bedford so Robin announced. It was here we nearly had a catastrophe. We were bowling along most happily when a curricle like ours came towards us round a bend in the road and both stopped within inches of colliding. The horses were stamping and neighing and the driver of the other curricle set to swearing and shouting. George was expert in quietening our pair and with aplomb set us off again. It wasn't only the horses who were sweating after that incident!

We took advantage of the next coaching inn to change the pair. We heard our irascible possible nemesis was the son of the local squire who was renowned for his bad temper and his bad driving! We decided, come what may, to rest ourselves at two o'clock. Although the curricle was quite tightly sprung the ruts and poor condition of the road in many places made us judder and sway to quite an extent. It was not too bad when driving as one could see and gauge what was coming but for the others they had to try to counteract any violent saying to prevent us overturning. Robin was most adept at this but was tiring and I hoped would not be sick as Branscombe had been on his momentous journey by the racing chariot to Ashbourne.

We made good time through St Albans and the beginning of the road to Barnet but there was a press of carts and carriages and we did not dare to deviate from the main road and seek poorer roads through the villages and hamlets. It seemed almost a miracle that many coachmen realised we were not yahoos out to race and cause mayhem but drew aside to let us pass. Dusk began to fall as we reached Barnet but we had to carry on. We found two lanterns had been thoughtfully attached to the front stay of the curricle and once these were lit at least others were aware of our oncoming presence. Passing from somewhere near Finchley village onwards was most hazardous. At times we were slowed to a crawl with large coaches trying to overtake us as we were small fry. At last I could see the better gaslamps which lined the main thoroughfare. Our horses were tiring as we traversed the first part of the Finchley Road. I knew we did not have a great distance still to travel but a tired horse could easily fall so we stopped at the Swiss Cottage posthouse and were grateful to find one last pair of rested steeds. The horsekeeper was chary at first to allow three youths to carry off two spirited three-year-olds but my father's name was recognised even here! "Thass a foine stable he keeps," was the opinion to be conveyed back.

Our journey ended just shy of eight that evening. We caused some consternation in the mews as we clattered over the cobbles. Jacobson was supervising two grooms who were cleaning my Aunt Fanny's closed chaise. As I jumped off the seat I threw him the reins. "We must see my Uncle Digby," I shouted. He looked startled but set to quietening the mettlesome pair as I led George and Robin to the side door. Mr Pembridge, who was sitting in the alcove behind the door, was even more startled as I opened the door and burst through.

"Master Tom! What has happened?" he gasped as two others followed me.

Luckily there was plenty of light from the gas jets so he knew I wasn't a robber though I noted he had been cleaning a pistol. "Oh, Mr Pembridge, I must see my uncle. It is most important!"

No more questions were asked. Quickly he said my uncle was dining with my aunt in her parlour and he would take me there. Three dusty, grimy youths were led along the passageway to be joined by Mr Topping. Mr Pembridge held up a finger and Mr Topping fell in line behind us. My Aunt Fanny must have heard some of the commotion for the door of the parlour opened just before we arrived there. I saw my Uncle Digby was seated in a chair at the table and Jabez and Mehmet were in attendance. Mr Purrett had opened the door and he was startled, too.

My aunt stood as I reached the door as she was seated facing it. "Tom! Why are you here?"

I could not help it, I burst into tears and almost shouted "Timmy's gone, he's been kidnapped!"

I saw Jabez and Mehmet step back looking aghast. They had spent such happy times with Timmy during their stay at Careby Hall.

My Uncle Digby called out quietly. "Tom, come in and tell me." He seemed the only one not to be startled. It was almost as if he had expected me.

I led George and Robin in and the five liveried men stood back. My uncle looked at them and quietly said "Stay". My aunt sat back in her chair and shook her head slowly.

My uncle regarded the three of us keenly and then gestured that we should take off our cloaks. There was no need of formal introductions. George had been at his brother's wedding to Rosamund; Robin and I were well-known. Things moved rapidly. Our hats and cloaks were taken from us and seats drawn up. A glass of sweet wine was set before us and I launched into the tale of the missing Timmy. I had rehearsed this several times on the journey so was quite word perfect. All present listened intently. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Mr Topping had taken up a notepad and a pencil and was copying down what I was saying.

George wanted to say something when I finished and that was short and to the point. He was sure his cousin Jack Lascelles was the perpetrator. Where was he? Where was the boy?

George was then stunned by what my Uncle Digby said then. "Are you aware your Uncle Philip died some two months or more ago?"

George gaped and shook his head. He murmured "Good riddance!"

Uncle Digby looked over to Mr Topping and Jabez who were standing side by side. "Have there been any visitors to the house?" I knew he meant 15 St James's Street. They said no one unusual and certainly no carriages, also the two other retainers had disappeared. I realised there must be a close watch being kept on the place. "We must find where they are and that will lead us to the boy," my uncle declared. "Mr Purrett, a little disguise and fetch that lout to the mews." Mr Purrett and Mr Pembridge left the room. He then looked at my Aunt. "My dear, I think duty calls. I have finished my repast and I will go to my study. These boys need sustenance and we can do no more until certain answers are obtained." He looked at me. "Tom, you may answer any questions Master Lascelles may ask." As he said this so Mr Topping and Mehmet helped him from his dining chair to a new more compact wheeled chair and he was taken out. I felt some relief. My lips were unsealed.

My aunt whispered something to Jabez who went out by the servant's door. Orders must have been given for food to be brought in. As we waited my aunt merely enquired of our journey and seemed quite amused that three boys, though one was eighteen, had driven at such haste and quite safely. I was sure she did not mention Timmy to keep us from getting too agitated. I felt her quiet manner and questions calmed us. I did remark that I though my uncle's movements were much steadier now even from the time I had seen him in the summer. My aunt smiled and said it was thanks both to Mehmet and to Lancelot. I noted then that one of Lancelot's devices had been set up here in the parlour as well as the one I had seen before in the study. Of course all three of us felt even better as a succession of dishes were brought in from a soup, fillets of fish, boiled mutton, slices of beef to a tasty syllabub to finish. Two more glasses of wine also helped us relax and though it had been a hard, taxing day I was not feeling tired.

Aunt Fanny left us then saying we should go upstairs and clean ourselves. Jabez took us to the room I had stayed in and Paolo and Antonio brought up pitchers of hot water. We were also grateful for the water closet and George said he must take plans back to Garthorpe. I said he might meet a good architect here in London to advise him. Robin was laughing as he knew I meant his brother Philip. We were soon cleaner and somewhat tidier so went back down to the parlour where the table had been cleared and there was a jug of that delicious cordial I had savoured before. With beakers in hand we settled to discuss things with Jabez seated with us though still in livery. George listened carefully as I questioned Jabez about the surveillance of the house in St James's Street. He realised that George would have to be privy to whatever was happening and said there had been no sightings of Jack Lascelles though they knew he was back in England for he had landed at Dover near a month ago. He smiled and said they did not have enough informants to keep track of all miscreants and perhaps we might be employed. George was amused enough at this to not take such a statement amiss from someone who was dressed as a servant. He had also realised that this household was not as it seemed!

George asked how news had reached my uncle about Philip Lascelles as he was sure his father did not know or George would have been informed by letter from Garthorpe. Jabez said his funeral had been overseen by the owner of the hospital and he was buried in a cemetery nearby. Jack had then dosed himself with even more laudanum and was in a stupor for almost a week. He then rallied and somehow raised sufficient money to reach England though they thought he had broken his journey in France. It was assumed he had stolen any valuables his father had and sold them to pay for his travel as he had been living very meanly in a common lodging-house. Jabez said he drank heavily while on the steam ferry and boasted he had a full purse and had plans for a good future which seemed not to follow from what was known about his previous finances. Though Jabez did not say I surmised Jack's journey was broken by a visit to the man Fortescue who was the source of this new wealth and proposals.

I was inquisitive enough to ask Jabez if he had had any other adventures. He said he was not at liberty to say more than he was kept busy. Robin then said his mother was most upset at Timmy being taken. "My mother loves that boy like another son," Jabez said with feeling. "When I was with him at Careby he was like another brother and my father even said his way with plants was quite remarkable." He smiled. "My father does not often give praise."

Mehmet tapped on the door and entered. "Pardon me, sirs, but Sir Digby wishes Mr Bottom's presence." That was most formal. Jabez stood and bowed and followed Mehmet out of the room.

"My, he's a big fellow!" George said as the door closed behind them. "And that fellow Jabez, he's no proper servant, eh?"

I explained carefully that none of the retainers were servants as such. I said I was sure my uncle held some important secret position as George must have realised and all, except perhaps Mehmet, were assistants. I was tempted to mention Mr Tuckwell but did not dare nor could I say more than one business they were investigating was a trade in young girls known as the White Slave trade. George nodded and said he had heard of that having read about it in a newssheet when home at Garthorpe. I related how an observant Jabez had noted a woman who was with girls on our journey out to France and she had been alone on our return. His suspicions had been confirmed and it was known now she was involved in the trade and was under surveillance.

"You have said many things about that journey but you never mentioned that," George remarked. I said both Robin and I had been instructed not to discuss the matter but he had heard what my uncle had said earlier. He nodded and confessed he was only now beginning to understand and still had many questions to ask. I said I would try to answer but there was much I did not know.

First he was curious to know why my Uncle Digby was crippled? Was it from birth or was it an accident? He had seen him at his brother Geoffrey's wedding to Rosamund but had not asked then as he thought it would be impolite. He looked at me in amazement when I said he was shot while on duty in Florence soon after he had married my aunt. I said one of his assistants who was not in the house at present shot dead the two assailants or my uncle would not only have been wounded but would certainly have been killed. I was just saying how Mehmet was employed mainly to help my uncle regain movement when Jabez returned.

"Mr Lascelles," he said with a slight head bow, "Sir Digby requests your company with Master Tom and Master Robin."

As we followed him out and along the corridor I glanced at the grandfather clock near the stairs. It was now past eleven. Time had passed quickly. My uncle's study door was open and he beckoned us in. Jabez was standing behind my uncle's chair and there were two strangely dressed men standing either side of him. My uncle pointed at chairs in front of his desk. I saw George glancing quickly round the room and stop once his eyes had reached Curly. His gaze turned to my uncle as soon as he spoke.

"Please be seated. There are matters to report but still further questions to be asked," he said quietly.

George gasped and Robin clutched at my sleeve as one of the men and then the other removed his battered hat and well-worn coat. Both tugged at their bearded faces and false whiskers were removed revealing the unshaven faces of Mr Purrett and Mr Pembridge. My uncle saw our startled faces and smiled.

"I have to confess to a slight kidnap of our own," he began. He tapped a piece of paper on the desk. "A certain person has been asked to take lodgings in our mews for a time..." He looked at me. I knew he meant the lodgeboy from St James's Street. "...He has volunteered what he knows but there are still details to be established. He has confirmed that only two men had remained in residence. They were most concerned about the fate of Scratchit as the youth called him." He looked at George who nodded as I had told him of the identity of the man at the Hat and Feathers and his sojourn now in Derby gaol. "The pair have not been at the house for at least a fortnight and all he knows is they mentioned sugar several times and a wharf. The dolt is being questioned further but declares he remembers no more."

When my uncle mentioned 'sugar' and 'wharf' George sat upright. A thought struck me, too. George spoke and what he said confirmed my thought but added to it.

"Sir, 'sugar' and a 'wharf'! My father had interests in the Jamaica trade." He sat back and clenched his hands together and grimaced. "Old Jamaica Wharf," he uttered, "and there are stairs."

Mr Topping held up a finger. "Sir, would Old Bull remind you?"

George looked at him and nodded. "Old Bull Stairs! Old Bull Stairs!," he repeated. "That is it I am sure."

My uncle pointed at a cabinet near the window alcove. "A map, please, Jabez. London river, I think."

Jabez went over and took several sheets of paper out and laid them on the table. Although there was good light from the gas jets he lit two candles in a sconce and placed them near. While he was doing this I saw that Mr Pembridge was looking upwards as if in thought. He muttered something to my uncle and left the room hurriedly. Uncle Digby and Mr Purrett perused the map with Mr Purrett pointing at a particular area.

"Sir, this is Jamaica Wharf and the stairs," Mr Purrett said. "They are across the river by London Bridge in Southwark." He shook his head. "It is not a place for the unwary as I well know."

Just then Mr Pembridge came hurrying in. He had a newssheet in his hand. Without ado he placed it on top of the map and pointed to it. Both my uncle and Mr Purrett bent forward and read it silently. My uncle looked up at Mr Pembridge.

"Jasper, thank you. I think we must confer." My uncle looked at us three. "My boys, please forgive me. There is more to this I am sure. I suggest you go up to bed and try to sleep." He smiled. "We have much to discuss here and I fear it may take some hours. We should have a plan in the morning and I assure you nothing can be done until then." Both Mr Pembridge and Mr Purrett were nodding. "Jabez, see they are settled and return, please."

These were orders quietly given. We stood and followed Jabez out of the room. Mehmet was waiting at the foot of the stairs and led the way up to the bedroom. There was no discussion, George was to share with us. There was a jug of cordial and an opened bottle of wine on the side table with a plate of savoury pastries.

"Sirs, it would be best for you to sleep," Mehmet said, "I would suggest something to help you rest."

Jabez had by now laid out our nightgowns. "A glass of wine and a good sleep," he said. "I expect you will be called at seven."

With this the pair left three tired and somewhat perplexed youngsters. George was first to speak. "There is more to this matter than poor Timmy," he said.

Robin was nodding his head. "I would agree. I tried to see the newssheet and though it was upside down I think it said 'Body found in River',"

It was too much. I burst into tears. "No, it cannot be Timmy!" I wailed.

Both George and Robin thrust their arms round me. "It would be too soon," Robin murmured in my ear. George hugged me.

"It was folded and it was four days old," he said. "It cannot be Timmy."

I turned and held onto my two good friends. "We must be patient then," I said in a whisper.

We undressed slowly and each used the water closet and each had a glass of wine though only George had a pastry. The bed was wide so three quite exhausted creatures were arranged with George between Robin and me. Though still agitated I slept and slept soundly.

We were awoken quietly in the morning with the lighting of the gas jets. Jabez and Mehmet were together and both looked tired. "There is no need to hurry," Jabez said with no ceremony or deference as George was ready to clamber out of bed. "Sir Digby says he has plans to set in train and can do nothing until Mr Topping returns." He indicated Mehmet who had set down pitchers of hot water. "Mehmet will stay as I must return to Sir Digby." Mehmet bowed his head and went to our travel bags. There was little in them other than a change of linen which he laid out on the padded settle. Robin was yawning and rubbing his eyes.

"As I am on this edge I'll get up first," he said and slid off the bed and went straight to the water closet.

"I'll be next," George said, "I have a great need for that pot!" He reached for his watch which was on the side table by the bed. "It is near half past seven. I did not think I could have slept so well."

Robin was soon finished and as he emerged George made a beeline for the closet. I wondered if one of Lancelot's devices might be needed after the volley of farts and groans which issued forth. Robin was smiling as Mehmet poured water into a basin for him and he began to wash. He had divested himself of his nightgown and stood naked. I sat up and admired the view of his shapely back, broad shoulders and trim waist. Another time I would have wished to have leapt out and tussled him and... ...I had better not think of such things on a day like this.

George had completed his calls of nature and I ventured out and took his place on a warmed seat and was pleased there was little stink. I then joined two others who had almost finished their ablutions. I think if Mehmet had not been present there might have been some comments from George concerning our triple nakedness. As it was my backside was flicked with George's towel as I bent forward to rinse my face.

I noted that our clothes had been brushed clean of any mud and other spatterings so with our clean linen we did not look too travel worn. Mehmet had brushed and combed Robin's hair and George was smiling as he sat on the settle and Mehmet did the same for his flaxen curls. "This is something I have to do for myself when at School," he said. "Perhaps I should have my fag trained but then I might feel the back of the brush if I did not sit steady."

Mehmet was laughing at this and I nodded my head at him. He turned the brush he was using and tapped the top of George's head. George was not perturbed at such apparent discourtesy. "That fag of mine will feel my cane on his arse for inciting you, my good fellow." Mehmet had finished and George turned and smiled at him. "May I call you Mehmet for I have heard you addressed as such?"

"Sir, I would be pleased for you to use my name. Sir Digby always addresses me as such."

"That is settled then." He turned and looked at me. "I think you had better deal with those greasy locks or he'll complain that the master's nephew is not receiving due attention! Here, you have the comb and give me the brush and we'll make short work of the task." Robin held me so I could not get away. I was placed on the settle and was treated quite gently as the pair acted the fool but I finished with my hair neat and with a flick to my ear with the comb plus a tap to my head with the brush.

I did not dare make any sharp remark but merely thanked them kindly. George talked then with Mehmet saying I had demonstrated any skill I had learned from him in removing his aches and pains. I did say that my skill was nothing in comparison with Mehmet's expertise. I said if there was time perhaps Mehmet might be allowed to give George a proper and complete massage. That pleased George greatly. I just wondered what he would make of the mighty-muscled lad in those tight drawers.

We decided we should go downstairs both to get more information but also to explore what might be for breakfast. As we reached the bottom of the stairs Jabez was waiting for us. "We are still waiting for Mr Topping to return," he said quietly. "Breakfast is prepared and Paolo is there to serve you."

I led the way to the breakfast room where Paolo had already served a seated Mr Purrett and Mr Pembridge. They rose slightly as we entered. They were not in livery but had changed into ordinary black jackets and trousers from the shapeless clothes they had used for their disguise. I knew there must be no discussion so led George to the serving dishes. George chose a heaped platter of bacon, poached eggs, kidneys and sliced sausage with fried bread so I knew he would not have cause to complain about lack of food! I saw my favourite of scrambled egg and smoked fish and had that with fresh warm white bread. Robin more or less copied George and I was pleased there was a strong tea to accompany all these victuals.

All were content to concentrate on their eating but as the older pair finished they stood and excused themselves. Paolo took George's plate and almost filled it again. George was looking from me to Robin and back again. "Not servants," he murmured, "I have a deal to learn." He looked at his plate and began eating again. Robin and I said nothing but smiled at each other. We had discussed the household in detail after Robin's first acquaintance with it.

George finished his second plate and sat contentedly while Robin and I finished another cup of the tea. Jabez came into the room and seeing we had completed our repast said that when we were ready Sir Digby would tell us more.

I wondered if my uncle and any of the assistants had slept as they all looked tired. As well as Mr Tuckwell not being present I realised there was no Mr Tolliver. Was he also employed on other duties? My uncle had a sheaf of pages in front of him with Mr Purrett and Mr Pembridge sitting either side of him. After a nod from my uncle Jabez took a seat at the side

"My boys, I have to say this is not a simple case," my uncle started in that clear and distinctive voice of his. "There are many things which may or may not be connected. If, as I fear, they are then we shall not be the only ones affected nor involved." He took up the first sheet looked at it for a moment then replaced it. "I must have your promise that whatever you hear or may find there should be no discussion with others." He looked at George. "This will mean family as well until we reach some resolution." I noted that George nodded slightly. "I think we are at the edge of another vile trade." He looked at George again. "Has Tom told you about the trade in young girls?" George nodded again. "I have to tell you there is a parallel trade in boys and young men though it would seem their destinations are not just across the English Channel." He paused. "I will not refrain from giving you what are most definitely unpleasant details."

He reached out and held up the newssheet Mr Pembridge had brought in the night before. The headline had been as Robin had said 'Body found in River'. "The short account here is that the mutilated body an unknown boy of eleven or so years was found in the Thames near...," He paused and pointed to the map on the desk. "...Old Bull Stairs." I think all three of us gasped at that. "Overnight we have made inquiries and our informants tell us that the boy was mutilated in a particular way. He was gelded completely."

George was shaking his head. "Sir, gelded completely? All was removed?" He was shaking.

My uncle nodded. "That is so."

Robin began to sniff violently. I realised he might faint and without ado I held onto his hand tightly. His sniffs and sobs abated.

Uncle Digby was looking at us intently. "I do not apologise for saying that. I fear we are dealing with a vile and vicious trade and we have discussed other knowledge which now fits." He indicated his two assistants. George had now composed himself as well and sat back in his chair.

"Sir, you must consider it important for us to know. Is it because we can help?"

My uncle nodded. "Master Lascelles, I think you three will be of great assistance. Let me tell you more."

My dear Robin was calmer so I let him go and we both settled to hear what my uncle had to convey to us.

"Let me tell you first how we knew of your uncle, Mr Lascelles." Uncle Digby looked at me first. "You have met the Baron?" There was a ghost of a smile. I nodded. "My friend and confidant Baron Meinertzhagen has been engaged on particular duties in some of the German states." He was now regarding George who was paying close attention. "He was the source of our knowledge of the whereabouts of your uncle and cousin and how he knew that will become clearer with what I have to relate." He took up a second sheet of paper. "This is his report of incidents two years ago in the state of Wirtemburg where he has relations. It had been reported that several young men had disappeared from their villages without apparent reason. Also three young boys vanished from one village and though searches were made they were not found. There were rumours of witchcraft and sorcery and two women were almost burnt to death when their cottage was set on fire. They had been accused of magical arts as they were skilled with herbs and cures." He looked at me and raised his eyebrows. He pointed at the paper. "Strange things then occurred. One young man reappeared with the story he had been plied with ale at an inn in the market town where he had been sent with cattle and had woken bound and gagged in a carriage with two others. After many days journey being kept confined they found themselves bundled into a barn where they were told they were going on a voyage across the sea. Somehow he found a sickle and cut the ropes holding him. He escaped when it was dark and found he was no longer in that German state but in a port in France."

George murmured, "In France?"

My uncle nodded. "He was in Marseille a most notorious, evil place. Is that not so, Jasper?"

"That is so, sir, I have had experience of it," Mr Pembridge said slowly.

Uncle Digby stroked his chin. "The man, I say that but he was not much more than your age, Master Lascelles, wandered around. He stole some food but returned to the barn and hid and watched as two more were brought in another carriage. It seemed he was not missed as his own captors were gone and these were new. What he heard next made him determined to find his way home. The two captors were talking in a German dialect he understood. They were boasting of the good money they were receiving. They were laughing as they said the poor fellows would be gelded, though they used less than polite language, and sent to Africa and it was a great pity a boy had died for they received no payment for him. The young man had enough wit to follow the road back and some two months later reached his home village in a most parlous condition. When his story was told and he was believed his master took him to the Margrave, that is, the ruler of that province, as he had confirmed the reports of young men missing over several years. Baron Meinhertzhagen is kin to the Margrave and was with him on other business. What he heard made clear other disappearances which he knew of and which have occurred in the Kingdom of Bavaria." My uncle paused and Mr Pembridge poured him a glass of cordial from a jug on the desk. He nodded his thanks then wiped his lips with a white handkerchief.

"Jasper, it would be best to give some history, eh?"

"Sir, what I found in Marseille near eight years ago makes sense of this."

"That is so." My uncle pursed his lips as if not knowing where to start. "We must go back many years." He looked across at us who had been transfixed by what we had just been told. "Have you heard of the Barbary pirates?"

George jerked upright. "Our friend Branscombe told us of them when my steed was named Barbary. Were they not from the coast of Africa and preyed on merchant ships?"

My uncle nodded. "Not only did they take ships and the sailors aboard but also captured men, women and children from towns and villages on the coasts of France, Spain and the Italian states. These were taken to ports on the coast of Africa where they were sold into slavery. This was a scourge for several hundred years and many thousands of these people must have been taken. It was only some fifteen years ago that the French bombarded and captured the port of Algiers which was the principal centre for the trade and it was thought to have been stopped. We know it has not as Mr Pembridge here found that men from an English ship had been taken in Marseille and had been sold to slave traders from elsewhere on the African coast." He looked at Mr Pembridge who sat with his hands clenched. "Jasper was fortunate he and his compatriot were not taken themselves and was very brave..." Mr Pembridge murmured '...Sir, enough!'.

Uncle Digby held up a hand. "I must continue for that dead boy I spoke of was found in the river at Marseille and was also mutilated."

Robin was fidgeting. I knew he did not like gruesome things and I had held my legs tight together when talk of losing cods and pegs had been made. He put a finger against his lips before he spoke. "Uncle, I have heard that young boys were cut so their voices would remain pure. Is that not so?"

Of course! Lancelot had told us this when he explained the changes we would find in our bodies as we got older. He had made us squirm when he said that many boys in Papist towns in Italy were deprived of their ballocks so their voices would not deepen and were prized for their singing. He had jested that Robin, whose singing was always commended, might like to preserve that ability. Robin was somewhat disconcerted for Lancelot pointed to his instrument box which we knew contained sharp scalpels. As country boys we knew that male lambs were castrated as well as colts. It quietened them and made them more amenable. Was this the same with boys?

My Uncle Digby did not know whether to smile or look stern. "Robin, that is so. I may tell you that when in Florence I heard several musici or eunuchs as they were known. Sweet voices from seemingly grown men." He did smile then. "It is not a fate I would wish on any young fellow I am sure." The smile went. "I must not say more now but with these two instances of dead youngsters and what the Baron has discovered makes me think we are on the edge of a renaissance of that trade. We know that certain of the purchasers of the slaves demanded that the youths and boys be gelded. Not to preserve their voices but to make them more obedient and also for the boys for other reasons which I prefer not to dwell upon."

Obedient like the frisky colts became when gelded! These other reasons? I thought I knew what he meant. I knew that the boy Ganymede had been taken from his father Tros by Zeus disguised as an eagle. In the Aeneid near the beginning of Book One it was said '...et rapti Ganymedis...' and although Uncle Dodd had accepted 'abducted' for my construe then it was when we had read the passage again in Mr Martin's class there was a whisper of 'ravished'. As we left the room later I heard two of the older fellows laughing and saying it meant young Ganymede was taken 'in tergo', 'up the backside' for I had learned from Benjy it was the way of the grooms at times. It struck me then that Black Jack had confessed not only his own ravishing by older pupils at that other school but his own assault on the headmaster's son. 'His tightness' meant only one thing! It was with a sense of horror I then recalled George's account of his own torment by Black Jack in that way.

George leaned forward. "Sir, I know full well what is meant by 'other reasons'. My cousin used me for his pleasure when I was but ten and there were threats he would repeat it. I must assume you have evidence of his and my uncle's connection with this trade."

My Uncle Digby did not comment on what George had said about his ordeal. Robin had turned and stared at George and looked ready to weep. I wanted to comfort him but could do no more than put a hand out again to grasp his.

"The evidence is there," my uncle said. "The Baron had found that two Englishmen, one most unwell, the other his companion, had travelled to a town called Baden to take a cure at the spa. It was known the companion had certain interests in two houses in Paris where young men were employed to entertain the guests." He paused and seeing we had no questions continued. "There had been an enquiry for at least two of the young men had seemingly been abducted from one of the houses and taken to Marseille where they disappeared. We are not sure if they had fulfilled their usefulness or had proved to be unwilling to continue their particular trade. However, what the Baron noted was that the description of all the youths involved, in France or in the German states, included that they were fair-haired. It is well-known that the African buyers of slaves valued those with golden locks." He looked at George whose flaxen hair was his pride and joy. Again there was that hint of a smile. "Dear George...," He used his Christian name for the first time. "...There is no fear you may be sacrificed."

George was not disconcerted by that slight sally and I saw his lips twitch. Then he almost snarled. "Sir, those two men were my Uncle Philip and that blackguard Fortescue?" He sat back and made fists of his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers.

"That is so," my uncle replied calmly. "The cure did not have any effect and the pair appeared in Berlin where your uncle's health deteriorated quickly. His son must have been called to his side and there was want of revenge and money which has set these new events in train."

We were disturbed then by a tap at the door and a most shabby stooped person entered. We three boys stood as the fellow had a stout stick in his hand. My uncle raised both his hands and indicated we should be seated as the creature doffed his battered hat and his long, lank black hair came away, too. He handed his stick to Jabez who had stood and was now helping to remove the man's tattered and stained overcoat. I breathed a real sigh of relief. It was Mr Topping.

"What news have you, Edward?" my uncle asked and poured a glass of cordial which he passed to him. Mr Topping drank it before speaking.

"Sir, I am sure that is the place. An old crone was most helpful for she said the old sugar warehouse was certainly haunted and had been empty for an age. No one had been seen there since some man had hanged himself..."

George sprang up. "...That is the place. My father said there had been a loss of cargo and the overseer was blamed and killed himself. I had forgot for it was some seven or eight years ago and I overheard him telling my brother Augustus." He sat back and breathed out heavily.

"That would confirm it," Mr Topping said. "The old woman said she had heard the ghosts of poor souls calling out just two days ago and there were groans, too. I think the groans were from the two drunken louts I saw staggering near the quayside whose descriptions matched those of Makepeace and the one-eyed Taverner we heard from our..."

My uncle held up a finger to silence him. Mr Topping nodded and continued.

"I was aware there may be two others inside as I heard several curses about the poor victuals they were supplied with."

"I think further investigation should take place," my uncle said turning to Mr Pembridge. "The Captain and three troopers are required, undressed." I knew this could only mean my brother, Terence. I could have laughed at that requirement of him and his men naked! I realised my uncle meant they should not be in their military attire. Mr Pembridge stood and with a half wave and a smile left us. My uncle's gaze was now directed at us. "I trust you would not wish to be ignored in this enterprise. If the boy Timmy is there I am sure he will need comforting from those who know him." He took out his fob watch. "We will prepare our attack for two o'clock." He looked at Mr Topping. "Two of our oldest carriages, eh? Suitable clothing, too." He smiled at us. "That will be for you for anyone well-dressed will cause too much interest and we must do things by stealth." He addressed Mr Topping again. "We have that Magistrate's Warrant still for any date?" Mr Topping confirmed it was quite valid. He placed his tattered overcoat on again, took up his hat and wig and also departed.

This left Jabez who had been sitting silently and was now shaking his head slowly. It was his turn to be addressed. "Jabez, do not imagine you have been forgotten. Your task will be to follow and see that your cart is overturned and spills its baskets of vegetables. That diversion will take attention from what might be happening. Signor Bartoli will curse for the loss of his purchases but it has been his misfortune before. He will know what to supply." Jabez stood, grimaced at us and left as well.

"Are there questions?" my uncle asked.

"If a boy is dead then my cousin may be guilty?" inquired George.

"We must not assume anything until there is evidence. I can say no more," my uncle replied.

"That Warrant will be used for arrests?" Robin asked. "I have seen Uncle Dodd sign such documents."

My uncle nodded. "I have Her Majesty's authority as a servant of the Crown to employ my assistants in such duties. I will say no more now but you will also be enrolled as agents of Her Majesty if you so agree. You do agree?"

'Agents'! We all agreed quite fervently.

"You must realise there may be danger?"

"Sir, if I can bring that evil being to justice I will willingly take my chance," said George most confidently. Both Robin and I echoed this with our own avowals.

My uncle raised a fist. "You are enlisted and to every success!"

As one we said 'Amen to that!'

We sat back and I wondered what might come next. My uncle studied his watch again. "It is somewhat after ten and we have to wait for our reinforcements. I would suggest you rest if you can and take luncheon at midday. Clothing will be ready for you after that and Mr Purrett will supervise your disguises. I guarantee your mothers will not recognise you." He gave a welcome laugh for I for one was lost in wonderment at all we had been told and what might befall. He was serious again. "You will be protected but..." That 'but' hung in the air and he did not take it further.

We stood and bowed and took our leave. Mehmet was seated outside but rose immediately. "Sirs, there is hot tea in the parlour." We followed him to the room and sat and drank our cups in silence.

"I wonder what we may find?" George said echoing my thoughts and from Robin's serious look his too.

"We must take it as it comes," Robin said. "I am sure the rest have much experience and if we follow instructions no harm should come to us."

We mulled over this again in silence. I thought if we were not to become too anxious we should find something to occupy our minds. I asked Mehmet if he could find us a pack of cards. No sooner said than done. George was delighted and suggested we played whist. My mother had taught Robin and me the rules when we were much younger and we had taught Jabez and Benjy. I had not played since going to Ashbourne. We needed four and there were three of us.

"Mehmet, do you play whist?" George asked.

"Sir, that I do," Mehmet replied.

We four settled down and George partnered Mehmet and the pair of them trounced poor Robin and me, both laughing at our feeble attempts. We did win some hands but they had the edge in skill. Robin was not beaten though. After the pair were satisfied with their triumphs Robin challenged George to Noughts and Crosses. He knew George often played at that after our dinner when we settled to gentler pastimes rather than construing another passage of Ovid or racking our brains over a fiendish mathematical calculation. George took the challenge and shook his head in disbelief as no matter where he placed his Cross or his Nought as the case might be dear Robin won each game. Mehmet was as amused as I was. I had fathomed the secrets of placement but had never played to win as Robin was now doing.

George sat back quite astounded when he lost the tenth game. Mehmet took up a pencil and looked at George. "Sir, may I be your adversary?"

I smiled at Mehmet's choice of words. I realised once more not to imagine those who may be of lower station do not have good wit. George drew the lines and Mehmet said quietly "You first, Sir". Poor George was astounded once more. Whatever ploy he used Mehmet won the game. After his seventh attempt George looked at a passive-faced Mehmet and a grinning Robin.

"Let us see you two play," he said and passed his pencil to Robin.

George and I watched as games were no longer won but each time came to a draw. We were all laughing heartily as the pair vied with each other but a Cross or a Nought was always placed to thwart the other.

George stood as the pair put their pencils done. He leaned over them and put one arm on Mehmet's shoulder and his other on Robin's. "I vow I have never seen such play," he said as he tried to draw them together. "I wish I could take you back to Ashbourne, Mehmet, and set you to play against Farquar. He bests me almost every time." He did manage to move Robin. "I will pit you against the Scotchman and if I wagered I would make a pretty penny, eh?"

Robin looked up at George and had a mischievous look on his face. "I may take a quiet wager myself for Farquar to win. I have heard that has been done even in the best circles with the sporting gentry."

"You scoundrel," George said and lightly cuffed him. "You heard that story from Lawson whose father's pockets are lightened by rogues he thinks are friends."

Lawson said he would never gamble after witnessing his father losing a deal of money from believing some so-called connoisseur of the turf who he was sure was in league with the 'friend' who had accepted his wager. George related that story and Mehmet told us of more than one occasion when he had heard equal tales of woe from those under his fingers on the table at the Baths. "There are gentlemen who cannot see that pickpockets to be wary of are not only those on the street but those in their clubs as well," he said with quiet assurance.

"Mehmet, you speak so truly. My father has cautioned me about gambling for he has seen fellows stripped of all they have through foolish wagers."

"Sir, one does not get something for nothing but only through honest toil whether by hand or by mind," Mehmet said.

"Mehmet, you could not have said a truer word. There are those who do seem to prosper such as my uncle but are brought down through over-reaching themselves."

I listened carefully to what was being said. Again, I knew I must not make judgements. George may be slow in learning the declension of Greek adjectives but was expressing here solid opinions and truths which even at my young age and experience knew would serve him well.

Our discussions were disturbed by a rap on the door which proved to be welcome. It was Paolo to announce that luncheon was ready. George would not take no for an answer for Mehmet was also brought to the table with us in the breakfast room. Jabez also joined us and said he had withstood Signor Bartoli's wrath when picking out three baskets of his best vegetables but the Signor had mellowed when he found the reason why. As we ate our slices of roast lamb Robin remarked he was now less agitated and said the games had calmed him. George waved his fork at him and said he was fortunate for his temper at losing might have heated him and he would be obliged to be taught those strategies which the pair had employed. Robin grinned at Mehmet and the pair shrugged their shoulders.

Our repast was soon ended and Jabez led the three of us out to the Mews and to a room to the side. Mr Purrett was there and supervised the change from three clean schoolboys to three unscrubbed ragamuffins whose mothers would not recognise them as Mr Purrett said laughingly. "I would say we would look well as those three witches in that play of Mr Shakespeare," Robin said and pretended to stir a cauldron. "Double, double, toil and trouble," he warbled until George poked him with the stout stick we each had been given to protect ourselves. Robin began to dance around and Mr Purrett made us laugh more when he said "Witches don't wear britches!"

Our antics were interrupted by the entry of four others. It was my brother Terence and three troopers, one I recognised as Caleb Bottom. They were in plain dark blue uniforms and hats. I grinned up at my brother as the four stared at us. I knew he had not recognised me under the dirt and grime on my face. "Penny for a poor orphan, kind sir," I squeaked out hunching myself into an obsequious bow. Not to be outdone George attempted a curtsey holding his well-worn overcoat out like a gown. "Tuppence to 'old yer 'orse, yer 'onour," he cackled in a rasping voice then stumbled as he trod on a loose bootlace. "See that foine green turnip up there, sir," Robin said in a most countrified accent and pointed up to the far rafters. As Terence stretched up to find what this strange object might be so Robin displayed the handkerchief he had deftly removed from my brother's trouser pocket. There was a rumble of laughter.

"'Tis Master Tom and Master Robin no doubt!" Caleb had penetrated our disguises.

Terence turned swiftly and grabbed at me. "You little wretch!!" He then also burst into laughter as he realised that Robin was holding his handkerchief. "A pickpocket, eh?" He turned to George who had righted himself. "And you?"

"'Tis your 'umble servant, sir, a-begging for a place as a soldier boy." George bowed low and his battered hat fell off. His acting surpassed even that of Baring who had played Frederick the Usurper in 'As You Like It' to much approbation.

"George Lascelles, I'll be bound," my brother said and shook him by the hand. I knew they had met at George's brother's wedding. "'Tis a pity Geoffrey isn't with us. He has my cousin safe and sound in Canterbury as he is learning to ride a little better." He winked at me. Geoffrey must have related his fall from Grace, which was true for my father had named the pony thus which was strange for the draughthorse had that name, too. By using the Christian name for Geoffrey Lascelles I knew that a close kinship had been established. Terence turned to Mr Purrett who was clearly amused. "We are to be arresting officers so my uncle says. Some sort of uniform and a stout truncheon and whistle."

"All is ready, sir," Mr Purrett said and pointed to a rack with uniforms like those I had seen worn by Peelers. "We do have a Warrant but you must not say you are constables. There are most probably five men to be taken and there is a boy to be found."

I had gone up to Caleb who was smiling at me. "Caleb, 'tis young Timmy," There was nothing else to be said. His expression changed. "If that boy is harmed!" He raised a fist.

Mr Purrett looked over at him. "They must be brought to trial," he said quietly. Caleb nodded. My brother Terence had explained military discipline to us when he was recovering from his broken leg. Orders were to be obeyed always.

The four changed swiftly and became four possible guardians of the law. Mr Purrett explained to us that while in action they would look sufficiently official but a close inspection would reveal them as spurious. We had watched spellbound as the transformations took place for Jabez had come into the room and became a ragged costermonger complete with blackened teeth and a clay pipe much to the amusement of his own elder brother. Mr Purrett looked as any other 'roaring cove' would be driving their Hackney carriage. We had yet to see Mr Topping who was still with my uncle.

Mr Purrett then took us to a board where a rough map had been drawn on a large sheet of paper. He then went through the plan of campaign as he called it with smiles from us at those words until we realised we were likely to be in danger if Makepeace and Taverner and the others were armed. He said he knew both the first two were marksmen though Taverner had only one eye. He and Mr Topping would be driving the two carriages, his would cross the river at Southwark Bridge, the other by London Bridge. The soldiers and Jabez with his cart would be in the first carriage and we three in the second. We would converge along Bankside and both carriages would be used to block the roadway where the wharf narrowed. Jabez would create a diversion at his position and we three were to do the same at the other end. "I leave it to you to devise your own theatricals," Mr Purrett said and pointed to the map. "I warn you again that the wharf is narrow near the warehouses so do not fall into the river!" He then said that Mr Pembridge would be driving a carriage as well across London Bridge and those 'arrested' would be taken to the nearest police post to be charged.

I felt some trepidation as we took our places in the carriages. Mr Topping looked the part and touched his tall hat with his whip as we climbed aboard. We set off first for our journey was a little longer. We drove up first to Oxford Street as it had been explained it was a better roadway and a straighter route. This was so and we fairly rattled along and reached High Holborn in good time. We were slowed on Holborn Hill and through to Newgate Street but picked up speed on Cheapside and on our turn to King William Street found a press of traffic through to London Bridge. Once over that our turn onto the streets to the quayside was hampered by two carriages having collided but skilful driving soon brought us to our destination.

We listened carefully as Mr Topping addressed us through the hatch. "Please to sit back until I give the signal that the others are approaching. I will then turn the carriage across the road as if one of the horses is lame. That is the warehouse. The one with the broken gantry. Draw attention away from any entrances though there seems to be few persons about."

As I peered out I saw a row of warehouses, all looking dilapidated and unused. The second had what once must have been a large and strong hoist jutting out from the top storey. I was familiar with the sight of these as each of the mills I had seen had such for hauling up the sacks of corn. There was evidence that this wharf had seen better days. The narrow cobbled way in front of the warehouses needed repair as stones had been loosened and some were scattered.

Mr Topping tapped the window. It was our signal. We tumbled out of the carriage and ran and starting kicking at stones in front of the second warehouse and watched with lowered eyes as Jabez and a cart appeared somehow from the underside of the other carriage some fifty or so yards away. I did not see my brother and his troopers for Robin stopped and held a finger up.

"There is someone calling for help," he said.

George darted to the side of the warehouse. "There is a door!" He must have pushed at it. "And stairs!" We followed him as he rushed up the stairs which creaked and shook as we pounded up them. George stopped at the top and we stood by his side. There was the sound of crying and a voice I recognised which said 'Do not fear'.

George turned the handle and we were met with a strange sight. Whatever light was in the room came from the dirty window at the other end of this long attic as we were now at the back of the warehouse. We stood and gaped. Three cages were set up. In the one nearest us were two young naked boys holding each other tightly. The second cage was empty but in the third was Timmy, also naked but holding onto the bars and speaking softly to the boys. I was aware the room was stiflingly hot. There was a stove set on a flagstone dais and behind it a table with several strange objects which looked like pokers and curved knives. I could see pitchers and basins and several chamber pots on the floor. A second table on the other side of the cages near the window had plates and a wooden box near it. I saw there was a door beyond it which must connect to another of the warehouses.

We all entered the room and the boys set up a screech as Robin and I rushed to the cage containing Timmy. He burst into tears as we tried to hold him but there was a scant three inches between the bars. George had spied a padlock on what must be the door of the cage. "Where is the key?" he asked as he rattled it.

"He hangs the keys by that door," Timmy said even before we could ask him anything more.

As the three of us turned and went back there were shouts and a deal of swearing from the street below. At that moment the door nearer the window burst open and a dishevelled figure appeared. "What the fuck is all that noise?" he shouted. "Are you that damned surgeon?" There was no doubt this was Jack. The ravages of the past year were plain to see on his face. It was like a grotesque mask, white with livid patches and an open sore on his cheek. "You're fucking late!" He was grimacing and squinting at us as we were at the dark end of the attic. "Why do I see three of you? Must be that fucking potion." His eyes must have focussed. "You ain't that bastard! Who are you?" He reached out and took up a pistol from the box on the table. "Stand fucking still or I fire!"

He was almost dancing as he pointed the weapon at us. His aim seemed surprisingly steady. We obeyed and stood still.

"Who the fuck..." he started again but George interrupted him.

"You have killed a boy and kidnapped these," he said quietly.

"That little bastard has lost me a hundred guineas," Jack said and cackled. "Bled as the old fool cut him too deep. What could we do..." He paused and the gun pointed at the cages. "..These pretty ones will be a hundred each once they're cut and that fine beast will bring me a good two hundred." There was the horrible laugh again. "He'll screech no doubt when he loses his balls but a dose of laudanum will quieten him." He squinted at us again. His mind was truly disordered. "If you ain't that bastard surgeon, who are you?"

"Jack, you know me as well I know you..." George began but Jack was dancing and shrieking like the madman he was.

"...My fucking cousin George, eh?" The pistol was waved at the three of us with the demented creature hopping from foot to foot. "Brought your molly-fucking-boys with you, eh? If I had a pair I'll shoot one in the cods but this is for you!" The gun was levelled straight at George. Without thinking I leapt at George at the same time as Robin barged into him. There was a flash, a bang and blood sprayed like a fountain. There was an eldritch scream and a crash of rotten timbers and broken glass. I closed my eyes, sank to the floor and prayed.

To be continued:

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