Chapter 27

The link-boy led us down the street and around a corner. There, another carriage waited. It wasn’t as grand as Sir Robert’s equipage, but it was large enough to accommodate the both of us.

There was no one else in the vehicle. “’Ang on, gents.” The driver threw a coin to the link-boy, shouted as he cracked the whip, and the cab leapt forward. The boy ran after the hackney coach. “Dis is only a ha’penny. Ya cheat!” The carriage rolled on.

Blather shouted up, “Where is ya takin’ us, now?”

“’Tain’t fer. Sit tight.”

Soon the coach pulled into the yard of a small inn on the outskirts of London, almost in the country. A small church and graveyard were the nearest neighbors. “Ya’ll finds ’im inside,” the driver told them. “Me fare ’as been paid, but I is always ’appy fer a wee bit o’ a tip.”

Blathers said, “Don’t take any wooden guineas. That’s a tip fer ya, ya swindler, ya.”

“I ’ope ya finds a’other ride ’ome.”

“We’ll gets home a’right. Now be off wi’ ya. Ya’d cheat yer own mother fer a ha’penny, like ya did that poor lad.”

The whip cracked. The cab lurched forward. We went into the inn. Blathers mumbled, “I guesses not all’s them drivers is good as Barbary.”

“Evenin’, gents.” The landlord approached us as we entered the taproom.

Blathers was still in a bit of a huff. “We’s been kidnapped by a knave o’ a hackney driver. Is there a feller here name o’ John? He’s the one what’s sent the thief atter us.”

“I am called John.” A tall shadow rose from a secluded table in the corner of the room, away from the fire. Noticing our hesitation, he held a candle up so we could see his face. “Please come and be seated.” There was no mistaking his brogue. Blathers and I each pulled a chair up to the table and sat down. Blathers felt in his coat pocket for his pistol.

“In my own country I am known as Sean, but in England, my mission is better served if I use the anglicized version, John.”

Blathers was still a little hot. “Why has ya kidnapped us this way? I don’t like bein’ forced ta do nothin’.”

“I am sorry. Please accept my apology. I have been trying to meet with you for two days, but enemies have made it difficult. I wish to have the necklace returned to the lady, but they want it to expose me and, at the same time, take revenge on Sir Robert.”

I asked, “Do you have the necklace with you?”

“It is in a safe place nearby. The people who own this tavern are friends of mine. They have hidden it in a place where it can be retrieved readily but would never be found by those who wish to harm me and Lady Peel.”

“What do you mean, take revenge on Sir Robert? Why is it you have enemies?”

“Right, who is ya, anyway? And how does we knows we can trust ya? A gent what has been havin’ a, I guess you’d say, a relationship wi’ a lady. I’d calls it somethin’ else, I would.”

“Perhaps I had best correct a misconception. If I can trust you, I will tell you all about myself, and about my relationship with the lady.”

I said, “Some explanation would help. We have already pledged to the lady that we will keep all we know confidential. I think we can make the same pledge to you, can’t we, Blathers?”

“As long as it don’t turn out ya done the killin’s.”

“I didn’t do any killing, and you will soon see that you can trust me. You see, I am a Catholic priest.”