Andrew Swanston - The King's Return

‘Madeleine, my dear, it’s Joseph,’ he whispered. ‘I need to speak to you. It’s important. If you can hear me, raise your hand a little.’ There was no response.

‘Allow me to try, Joseph. She might hear a different voice.’

Williamson stood back.

‘Madeleine, it’s Thomas. Your cousin is here and must speak to you. Raise your hand if you can hear me.’ Nothing.

He tried again. ‘Can you hear me, Madeleine? It’s Thomas. Raise your hand if you can.’ This time, her right hand moved a fraction.

‘Good. Now Joseph is going to ask you some questions. Can you try to answer them?’ The hand signalled yes. Joseph took the seat by the bed and bent his head very close to Madeleine. Her eyes were closed. He spoke clearly and quietly.

‘Madeleine, did they harm you?’ A shake of the head. No.

‘Did you hear any names?’ No.

‘Did anyone mention Aurum or Argentum?’ She raised her hand. Yes.

‘Alchemist?’ No.

‘Did you hear any talk of a plan?’ Yes.

‘Did they say what the plan was?’ No.

‘Did they ask if you knew about the letter?’ Yes.

‘Did you tell them anything?’ No.

Madeleine was visibly tiring. ‘Enough, Joseph, don’t you think?’ asked Thomas.

‘Just a few more questions.’

‘No, Joseph, she’s exhausted. Leave her.’ Thomas spoke sharply.

‘Very well.’ Joseph kissed her again. ‘Rest now, my dear. I shall return tomorrow.’

Thomas sat in his room. No names except Aurum and Argentum. There had been talk of a plan and they had asked her about the letter. The disfigured Dutchman had known who he and Charles were, so they had been watched. They must fear that the letter had been decrypted, although very few people knew that it had been. Madeleine had told them nothing. Instead of killing her, they had tried to ransom her. That would be why they had not harmed her. Even if the letter had been decrypted, their plan was intact. Only its existence would be known.

When he went down to the sitting room, Thomas knew something was wrong the moment he saw Charles’s face. His eyes were red and his face was drawn tight. ‘Charles, is something troubling you? Apart from Madeleine, that is?’

‘How is she?’

‘Much the same. But what about you? You look as if you have been awake all night.’

A thin smile. ‘I have. No sleep for the fool.’

‘Fool? Why the fool?’ Thomas took a seat opposite Charles and waited.

‘Losing money is one thing, being made to look an idiot is another. And I shall have to tell Mary.’

‘Tell Mary what?’

Charles let out a long sigh. ‘I met Chandle Stoner yesterday. There have been problems at the new silver mine. Heavy rain and flooding. The shaft collapsed. He plans to travel there himself, but thinks it will have to be abandoned.’

‘Does that mean you will lose your money?’

‘I fear that it does. I should have been more sensible. I know nothing of mining and did not understand the risks. I trusted Chandle’s judgement.’

‘I am sorry, Charles. I daresay it’s the embarrassment as much as the money.’

‘It is. I should never have invested in Quicksilver.’

‘So that was its name. Quicksilver. How appropriate.’

‘More like Nosilver now.’

‘Where is Mary?’

‘Resting. She’s worn out from nursing Madeleine.’

‘Then I’ll go up to Madeleine. When Mary wakes, please tell her I am with her.’

Thomas spent the rest of the day with Madeleine. She opened her eyes briefly when he held a cup of beef broth to her lips, but otherwise she slept. There was no lightening of the fever and no improvement to her colour. She had whispered that she was not dying. By the evening, it was hard to believe that she was right. When Mary took over the vigil, Thomas went to bed hoping for no more than that she would survive the night.

He heard the long-case clock strike midnight, one, two and three o’clock, before drifting into a restless sleep. He awoke before it was light, arose, and went quietly to Madeleine’s room. A candle had been lit and placed on a small table by the window. By its meagre light he could just make out Mary’s face. She was smiling. He stepped forward. Then he saw Madeleine. Her head was propped up on a pillow and she was sipping from a glass. He saw immediately that the heat had left her face.

Madeleine smiled weakly and held out a hand. ‘Thomas. Did you imagine I’d die?’

‘Not for a moment.’

Madeleine poked out her tongue. ‘Liar. I heard you all talking about me. It made me determined to live.’ The voice was as weak as the smile. ‘How are you?’

‘Typical. She returns from the dead and enquires after my health. I am quite well, thank you. How is your neck?’

Madeleine felt the lump. ‘Greatly reduced. We are at a loss as to what it was. An infection of the blood, perhaps.’

‘I shall send word to Joseph. He will want to see you.’

‘Tell him he may do so as long as he brings oranges and grapes, and asks me no more questions.’

‘I shall do exactly that.’ Thomas stooped to kiss her forehead. ‘Now rest. I will sit here to see that you do.’

‘Thank you, Thomas,’ said Mary. ‘I too could do with a little rest. Wake me if the patient gives you any trouble.’

The patient, however, did not want to rest. She wanted Thomas to know what had happened. She paused frequently for sips of water and morsels of bread, but an hour later she had told her story.

She had barely left her house on the morning she was due to meet Thomas in Piccadilly when a heavy sack was thrown over her head from behind and her arms were pinned at her sides and tied with rope. She did not see her attackers, but had the impression that there were two of them. They marched her up the lane and bundled her into a waiting coach. When she tried to cry for help, a hand was clamped over her mouth. Even through the sack she could tell that it was dark inside the coach and guessed that curtains had been drawn across the windows. Not a word was spoken.

She knew when they crossed London Bridge by the rattle of the wheels and the shouts of the tradesmen. She tried again to call for help and again was silenced by a rough hand. Frightened as she was, she decided to keep quiet until they arrived at wherever they were going. She assumed her abduction was something to do with Joseph’s work and tried to steel herself for what was coming.

When they had crossed the bridge the coach turned left. She lost track of their direction and tried to concentrate on sounds and smells. The only smell she recognized, however, was straw. Bits of it inside the sack rubbed against her face and made her sneeze.

She thought they travelled for about three hours before stopping. When they did, she was dragged out of the coach and, with her arms still tied at her sides, was led off on foot. Still nothing was said. She smelt salt in the air and heard curlews and thought they were in marshland. After about an hour, they reached their destination. Her arms were untied and the sack removed. She was inside a small cottage with a low ceiling and shutters across the windows.

The first face she saw was that of the disfigured Dutchman. He told her quietly that she would come to no harm as long as she obeyed his instructions and did not try to escape. If she did, she would be killed. She was told to sit down and was given food. Then the interrogation began.

The Dutchman wanted to know if a letter encrypted with numbers had been intercepted and copied at the Post Office. She told him that she knew nothing of such matters. He said that he knew about her relationship with Thomas and that he did not believe her. He asked if she had heard the words aurum or argentum . When she replied that they were Latin for gold and silver she thought he was going to strike her. He raised his hand, then apparently thought better of it.