Beneath London (49 page)

“Is the man known to us, then?” Clara asked Finn, as they moved along toward the hut now. “I sense that his wits are sadly scattered.”

“He
is
known to us,” Finn said. “It’s Tubby Frobisher’s uncle.” Miss Bracken had spoken of him when they had taken shelter under the rail bridge, but Finn had no idea that she meant this
particular
Gilbert, or how she had come to know him.

“
Tubby
, did you say?” Clara asked. “I don’t recall a Tubby.”

“The two of them are the Professor’s great good friends.”

The old man looked from one to the other of them in a befuddled way. “I do declare,” he said, bowing, “I’m certain that I behold Blind Justice aboard a mule – Lady Themis herself, no doubt. And you, my small friend,” he said to Beaumont, “I believe that I have the pleasure of addressing Commodore Nutt. How very good of you to visit me here in this hellish place.”

“Who is Commodore Nutt?” Clara whispered to Finn.

“A circus midget,” Finn said. “I met him once, and Tom Thumb along with him, when I was in Duffy’s Circus, near Edinburgh. “That was ten years back. Commodore Nutt has been dead these five years now.”

“The poor man,” Clara said. Finn didn’t know whether she meant Commodore Nutt or Gilbert Frobisher.

“My
own
Gilbert,” Miss Bracken said breathlessly, stepping past Beaumont now and taking Gilbert by the arm. He gazed upon her with no recognition at all. Then he looked hard at Finn with the same result.

“Do I know you, my good woman?” he asked, patting Miss Bracken’s hand.

She gawked at him. “Tell me, sir, do you know who
you
are?”

“I… That is to say, not entirely. I found myself in this dark land, apparently having fallen into a pit, and I wandered until I came upon this rude dwelling, which has become my home. Come in, my friends. Come inside.”

“Aye,” Beaumont said. “Everyone in, the mule as well. We’ll want stone walls roundabout us before we’re through. We must sit, or we’ll be naught but targets. They’ll be armed when they come. Take care if you go a-gawking out the windows.”

Clara climbed down from Ned’s back and led the mule in, everyone else following. The floor of the hut was covered with pieces of carpet, so that it was comfortably padded, and there was a stuffed tick against the wall where Gilbert had obviously been sleeping, for a woolen blanket was folded at the foot. A heap of oilcloth lay in the corner, with a rifle standing upon it, leaning against the wall. A box of cartridge sat alongside. The hut was crowded, but there was enough room to sit comfortably, with Clara and Miss Bracken sitting on the bed and Gilbert perched on a small stool. Finn fetched out Clara’s leaden shoes and set them neatly on the floor beside her. Beaumont stood. He seemed to be considering things in a restless manner, as if he was uncertain what to do.

“I’m afraid I’m a poor host,” Gilbert said. “I can offer you hard-tack and dried meat – edible, I believe, but scarcely food to
dine
on, so to say – food for the belly but not for the soul. I cannot recommend that you consume the fish that swim in these ponds. They taste of filth, although the water is safe to drink if one holds one’s nose. I have a capital bottle of rum, however, and I can offer you a tot, although I’ve only the one glass to drink from. Would you condescend to drink a glass, my dear?”

He said this to Miss Bracken, who nodded politely and said that if ever she had need of a tipple, it was now. She threw back the rum in a single swallow and then said forthrightly: “Now, Gilbert, listen to what I say. I am
your
Miss Bracken,
Cecilia
Bracken. Don’t you know me, sir? Recollect now, with all your powers.”

He closed his eyes, evidently recollecting, but shook his head unhappily and said, “I cannot say that I’ve had the pleasure of meeting you before now – a lamentable fact.”

“Have you lost your mind, then?” she asked him.

“I very much suspect that I have. My mind seems to have been holed with roundshot, a veritable Swiss cheese. I recall having known a Miss Bracken once – although she would be a woman twice your age. Alas, that was in another country, and I’ve been told that the wench is dead.”

“
Lord have mercy
,” Miss Bracken said. “The man has gone off his chump.” As no one else was interested in the rum, she allowed Gilbert to pour her another dram, which she drank off before wiping the glass out with the hem of her dress.

“Harkee, sir,” Beaumont said to Gilbert. “There’s villains a-coming for us. A bad lot. Very. They mean to take Clara.”

“Not while I draw breath, by God,” Gilbert said. “There stands a rifle, Commodore. You have a reputation for being able to use such an item.”

“
He’s coming now
,” Clara said, with a sharp intake of breath. “Two of them now. They’ll soon be upon us – Mr. Klingheimer and the man Shadwell.”

“Just those two, do you say?” Beaumont asked. “Were you sure of the four earlier on?”

“Quite sure.”

“Then two turned back,” Beaumont said. “Why? Because Klingheimer wonders were they followed, that’s why.”

“My mother has come for me,” Clara said abruptly. Her eyes were shut, and she seemed scarcely to be breathing.

“Mother Laswell?” Finn asked. “That’s good news. I passed her a message and told her that we were going underground for Margate. She’ll have given it to the Professor and Hasbro.”

“No,” Clara said. “I mean my own mother.”

Finn had nothing to say to this. He had seen Sarah Wright’s head sitting in a barber’s basin.

Beaumont asked, “What’s this
message
, Finn? Do you mean these others know where we are?”

“Leastways they knew where we meant to
go
,” Finn said. “They would follow if they could.”

Beaumont apparently considered this for a moment and then, gesturing with his thumb, he said, “I’ll tell you the plain truth. There’s treasure in a sack buried in yon corner, what I’ve collected since I was a boy.” He stood up and walked the three steps to the far corner of the carpet, pulled it back, and began shoveling stones away from beneath with his hand. Within moments he drew out a leather bag that might have held a large and lumpy pomelo. “Will you take me, ma’am?” he asked Miss Bracken, holding his treasure aloft and gazing at her intently.

She stared at Gilbert for another moment, and he stared blandly back at her. And then to Beaumont she said, “If you consent to parting with that terrible hat, I
will
take you.”

Beaumont nodded once, removed the hat, and pitched it into the dug-up corner before running his hands through his hair. He opened the leather bag, held it under the light, and said to Miss Bracken, “Take a look within, then.”

Miss Bracken arose and looked into the bag. She gasped and put her hand over her mouth in surprise.

“He’s come!” Clara said.

“Listen now,” Beaumont told them. “They dursn’t shoot into the hut. Mr. Klingheimer is come for Clara – the
living
girl, do you see? He wouldn’t have come else. You must stay inside, for he’ll shoot you dead if he sees his chance. I’ll see what I can do to help, but I’d be a fool to die here now that I’m to be wed.” He grasped Miss Bracken by the wrist, and said, “You’re a good lad, Finn. Mayhaps we’ll meet along the way.” The two of them went out through the open door, Miss Bracken carrying the flour sack, passing the window at a brisk pace, and very soon gone into the darkness.

FORTY

“
I
f I might have a word, Professor,” Mother Laswell said as they descended, her voice just above a whisper.

In the low light of the darkened lamps, St. Ives saw her as a mere shadow. “Assuredly,” he said. They had come a good distance from the upper world by now and had long since passed the first patches of fungus. There was the sound of rushing water, although dim, and it seemed to St. Ives that they might soon encounter the long stairway.

“Sarah Wright is woefully uneasy,” Mother Laswell told him. “She is aware of my presence, I believe, but her mind wants order. I cannot
speak
with her, if you follow me. I cannot penetrate the chaos of her psychical being. I know only that she is sadly agitated, whereas when I first took her from you her mind was very nearly at ease.”

“Perhaps the increasing air pressure as we descend is the cause.”

“It might be, now that you say it, but even if that is so, her will is
very
powerful, possibly because of the violence of her death. I believe that we are nearing our destination and that she senses Clara’s mind. Much was left unsettled between them when Sarah was murdered. And Clara, of course, is in grave danger. The sense of pending danger is very nearly primal, Professor. I myself am uneasy within my mind, although whether from premonition or plain fear I cannot say.”

“How can I be of service? I could carry the burden again, if you’d like. I’d certainly be less sensible of Sarah’s… emanations.”

“No, sir. What I mean to say is that if something comes amiss – trouble of any sort – I intend to go on as quickly as ever I can. Bill will not leave my side, of course, and so we won’t stop to parlay first. And if something happens to me and I
cannot
go on, someone must carry Sarah downward at once if we’re to succeed. She
must
be brought as close to Clara as possible. I do not for a moment believe that Clara will return to the surface with this Klingheimer. Clara will be in need of an ally when she does battle with the man, and none of us is more suited to the task than Sarah Wright, her own mother.”

“I’m with you completely,” St. Ives said. “When it comes to matters of this arcane nature, I’m far out of my depth.”

It was only moments later that Kraken said, “Douse the glim. They’re a-coming up.”

“Hoist the black flag, shipmates,” Tubby muttered. “Both sides of the path, then.”

St. Ives saw Tubby and Hasbro disappear into the complete darkness on the left hand. He and Alice followed Mother and Bill Kraken several steps aside on the right hand. They were in an area of long, narrow walls of rock, much like standing stones, lying on their sides. St. Ives felt his way to the edge of the one that sheltered them, and at once he made out two men ascending, perhaps fifty yards below. They had also veiled their lanterns, although carelessly. There was enough of a glow to see that both carried rifles.

The footsteps of the two men grew audible. St. Ives heard the cocking of Hasbro’s pistol, and he heard Alice’s breathing. He could neither see nor hear Mother Laswell and Kraken, and it came to him that they might already have gone on, creeping downhill in the shadows of the rocks in order to get below the men who were coming up.

He gripped Alice’s hand, and in the next moment the downward glow of the first man’s dark lantern swung into view on the path. St. Ives saw Hasbro’s silhouette in the dim light, the pistol outstretched, and then he saw the flash of the muzzle and heard the immensely loud
bang
, followed close on by a second report. This second shot, however, was not from Hasbro’s pistol, which flew from his hand as he pitched over backward.

* * *

M
other Laswell and Bill Kraken had made good time at risk of life and limb in the darkness, but then had been slowed by an interminable stairs. They were at the bottom now, Mother catching her breath. Away to their left stretched an extensive, luminous plane on which was built a veritable city of low stone huts. She wondered who had lived there, so deep within the ground. Troglodytes of some variety, long gone away, for the huts had the look of having been abandoned for eons. The two of them went on, through another field of great, upward-tilting stones, the path winding among them.

Abruptly they came out onto level ground, with a broad view, and in that moment Mother Laswell felt a tightening of her forehead, and a crushing pain in her temples that nearly staggered her. A feeling of despair settled over her, and she had the sensation that an evil presence was very near. She felt a similar agitation in Sarah’s mind, and she wondered what accounted for it. She realized that Bill held her by the upper arm now, and was endeavoring to draw her into the shadows.