At The Sign Of The Sugared Plum Part 11

In the canvas bag there was a soft white woollen shawl for Grace, a flask of wine, a travelling rug and cus.h.i.+ons for Sarah and myself, also some kid gloves, a lantern and some other little items for our comfort during the journey.

I went outside to the courtyard and rejoined Sarah, and in a few moments two horses were brought out of the stables, and a groom had wheeled out a small blue-varnished carriage, a coat of arms on its door, from the coach house. While we waited there a boy ran helter-skelter through the yard, and returned a few moments later with a stout and bald man of perhaps fifty years. This fellow bowed and introduced himself to us as Mr Carter, coachman to the Lady Jane.

Sarah, holding her head high, told him that she was Mrs Beauchurch.

*Indeed,' he said, giving a slight wink. *And you are hardly changed since your last visit to Dorchester.'

Sarah inclined her head, and managed very well not to look askance at this.

*I have been expecting you, and I am to be your coachman and your guard for the journey,' Mr Carter went on. *Your pa.s.sage has been considered and your stops planned ahead of us. I only hope you will not find the journey too arduous.'

Sarah, in her role as gracious lady, smiled her thanks. *We are looking forward to it,' she said, and then hesitated. *When we are all prepared here, I have to go back to my house to collect my child,' she added. *It is just a short distance away.'

*I am at your service,' Mr Carter murmured.

As the horses were bridled and prepared I was still in an agony of fear about Abby, but could not help but marvel at the smooth way everything had been made ready for us. Sarah said to me quietly that it was all to do with money, and that anything, any service, could be procured if someone was willing to pay enough for it.

Feeling very nervous, but also very grand a for neither of us had ever been driven in a carriage before a Sarah directed Mr Carter to Belle Vue House. On drawing close by, we asked him to stop just out of view of the courtyard, for we were both anxious about being noticed by the watchman. If this happened, Sarah said, if it became known that we were stealing a child away from an enclosed house, then he would certainly lock us all into the house and inform the magistrates.

Alighting and going to the courtyard, we found that Tom had not been able to rouse Abby, and that he now proposed to go inside the house. *For what could be more natural than an apothecary should attend his patient,' he said, holding up his valise. *Doctor da Silva does it all the time.'

*I don't think you should go,' I said worriedly, but although part of me wanted to beg him not to risk such danger, I had no idea how we would secure little Grace otherwise.

Tom took my hand. *It's nothing. I see plague sufferers every day of the week. Just wish me well and wait here for me.'

*Be careful,' was all I could say in return, and though I knew that these words sounded pitifully inadequate, my mind was so full of fear and dread that I could not think of any others.

While Sarah and I waited, Tom went around to the front of the house. I do not know what he said to the guard, but a few moments later his face appeared at the first-floor window we had been calling up to for so long.

*Is it all right?' I asked breathlessly. *Have you found Abby?'

He did not reply and I asked again, already knowing in my heart what he was about to say.

*I have,' he said gravely.

Sarah took my hand and held it.

*She is here on the stairs,' he went on, *but, Hannah, I do not think she suffered much, for there is a look of hope on her face.'

*Her hope was that you would come back,' Sarah said, looking at me with great pity. *She must have been looking out for you.'

So Abby was dead.

Dead. The word struck me cold and brutal, and the image which came into my head of my lovely friend being no more than a heap of rotting flesh made me want to scream and sob and pull at my clothes like the mad people in the streets did. I dared not indulge myself, though, for we had much to do if I was to carry out Abby's last wishes. I did not even allow myself to weep, but knew I must put my feelings to one side until later.

*What . . . what of the babe?' I asked Tom, and I was bitterly scared now, for if she too was dead, then all this had been for nothing.

Tom disappeared, and came back a moment later with a bundle in his arms. *I have her here,' he said, holding up Grace. *She was sleeping, but now she smiles at me.'

At this I felt a rush of tears to my eyes. *Is she well?' I asked anxiously.

*She seems well enough,' Tom said, looking her over. *I am no expert but her eyes are bright, she seems well-fed, and she is pink-cheeked.'

*Will you bring her out to us now?' Sarah asked in a low voice.

*And risk being seen by the guard?' Tom said. *I think not. We must-'

*Is there a basket nearby?' I asked suddenly. *There was one with a rope attached which the household used to get its provisions.'

*There is,' Tom said, bending down for it. *And I think it will be just big enough.'

*Will you take off her things, Tom,' Sarah said. *We have brought a clean sheet to wrap her in.'

Tom disappeared for a moment or two to do this, and while he was out of view my mind was a perfect whirlpool of fear. He then reappeared with Grace naked within the basket. Lifting this into the air, he tested the rope that held it, and then Sarah and I stood with arms outstretched as he carefully lowered the precious bundle to the ground.

I took little Grace out a and indeed she did look healthy, with plump pink limbs and a fine head of hair a and as we wrapped her in the clean sheet she looked so pretty and innocent that Sarah and I both fell to weeping at her sad destiny in being orphaned so young.

Tom, watching from above, asked us what the matter was. *Have you seen some mark on her body?' he said anxiously.

I shook my head. *We are just weeping for . . .' I began, but found I could not explain why.

*For the sadness of the occasion,' Sarah finished with a sigh.

Tom said he was mighty relieved that the babe was well and had no marks on her, and told us that he had a mind to remove Abby's corpse from the stairs, and not leave it in such disarray. He disappeared to do this, but a moment later, to our great horror, we heard a shout inside the house, and the face of the watchman appeared at the same window.

*What mischief are you doing?' he yelled to us. And then he saw the basket and the rope, and Grace in my arms, and began roaring at us to stop, saying he would call the magistrates and have us locked up as kidnappers and common thieves.

We were in a terrible confusion then, for we did not know what to do for the best. I felt that we could not just run off leaving Tom in the plague-torn house, for it would be known that he'd had a part in our stealing of Grace.

Sarah picked up our bundles and pulled my arm, though. *We must go! If we want to get away, we must go now!'

And I knew she was right. Holding the babe tightly, cradling her head, I began to run with Sarah towards our coach. Mr Carter was still sitting atop in the driver's seat, and reaching it, Sarah opened the door and clambered in, then turned to take Grace from me.

Panting and shaking with fright, I handed the babe to her. I then climbed in myself as quickly as I was able, calling to Mr Carter to drive off with all speed.

As we started off and the carriage turned into the main street, my attention was caught by a blur of movement as Tom came running from the house, sprinted across the roadway and arrived on the corner just as our horses galloped past him.

We had time for just one thing: to blow a kiss to each other.

I leaned forward in my seat, trying to see Tom until the last possible moment, and in this way saw the watchman run out of the house and stare after our coach. Tom ran off, and it looked as if the watchman was hesitating, wondering whether to go after him. He chose us to chase, however, and began to run down the centre of the road ringing a bell and shouting.

This did not alarm us unduly, for within no time at all the horses had gathered speed and we had left him behind. We were going at a goodly pace now, swaying and b.u.mping on the uneven cobbles, and found we had to sit well back, bracing our legs, to enable us to keep our positions. We sat on opposite seats, gazing at each other in a mixture of excitement and fear.

*Close the curtains,' Sarah said. *A lady and her maid would not allow the common people to gaze in on them.'

I did so, then begged Sarah to let me hold Grace. Smiling, we had a small dispute about who should nurse her, but Sarah at last agreed that it would be more usual for the babe to be held by the maid rather than the lady, and pa.s.sed her to me. Grace was quiet, the movement of the carriage having almost sent her off to sleep again.

We galloped and jolted through the streets, twisting and turning down narrow pa.s.sageways, and found out later that Mr Carter had taken us a complex way around in case the watchman found means to follow us. Peeping through a crack in the curtain, I saw few pa.s.sers-by, and none who looked at us with any interest, for people were very much keeping within their houses now and only going out to buy what food was necessary to keep them alive. After some minutes of fast, jolting driving, we heard Mr Carter shout at the horses and rein them in. They fell into a walk.

Sarah pulled the curtain to one side. *Mr Carter,' she said, *can you not maintain the speed?'

*I can, Ma'am,' he said, *but we are approaching the gate on London Bridge and I do not think it meet that we should arrive there all of a hugger-mugger.'

*No. Indeed!' Sarah said hastily, and she sank back once more on to her seat. We shared an anxious glance and composed ourselves as best we could.

After a moment we heard a *Whoa!' from Mr Carter and the carriage came to a standstill.

*Be calm, Hannah,' Sarah said quietly. *Remember that everything depends on us being who our Certificates say we are.'

I nodded but could not reply, for my throat felt tight and constricted. I put out a finger and stroked little Grace's cheek, praying that things would go well.

Mr Carter was hailed by a rough-sounding voice and someone asked his business. In reply, we heard him explain that he was taking a lady of high breeding to stay with her sister in the country. *As she has a new-born infant, I wish to make good time and proceed with speed,' he finished.

The curtain was then pulled aside and a dishevelled, bearded fellow looked in on us. He carried a blunderbuss in his hand and did not look as if he'd hesitate to use it.

*Your name?' he asked bluntly.

*I am Mistress Beauchurch,' Sarah replied haughtily. *My infant daughter is Grace Beauchurch and my maid here is Abigail Palmer.'

*Your certificates to travel?' the fellow asked, and Sarah drew our pa.s.ses from the canvas bag and handed them over.

*Is there not one for the child?'

Sarah shook her head. *She is but newly-born. We were told she wouldn't require one.'

His brawny hand plucked at the covering which held Grace and as he looked at her, frowning, I was thankful that Grace was small for her weeks, and that the fellow apparently did not know what size a newborn child should have been.

Losing interest in Grace, he held our certificates up to the light. *There have been forgeries.'

*Those are no forgeries,' Sarah said with spirit. *Sir John signed these himself in my presence.'

The fellow spat on them, then rubbed at the ink signature with a grimy finger until it smudged. He thrust them back at Sarah, looking her up and down searchingly.

*And you are Mistress Beauchurch, are you?'

*I am,' Sarah's voice rang out like a true aristocrat and I looked at her admiringly.

*First lady I've seen with rough hands,' the man said. *Looks more like you've been in charge of the washhouse.'

Sarah looked at him witheringly. *My good man,' she said, *the plague is rife and most of my servants are fled. A lady must learn to fend for herself a and besides, I do not trust anyone except myself to wash and tend to my precious child's needs.'

The man gave a bitter laugh. *Oh, 'tis right, the plague is a great leveller. Even a great lady has to stoop to the washtub nowadays.' He still did not move out of the roadway, but stood there looking at us through narrowed eyes. I felt a cold trickle of sweat begin its journey down my back and was mighty scared.

He brought his face to the carriage window. *Would you risk anything to get out of London?' he asked.

*I don't . . . I don't know what you mean,' Sarah said.

*What is it worth to you, lady?'

Sarah quivered. *How dare you!' she said. *I should have you birched for such impudence.'

*Call the other guard, then, if you've a mind to,' the fellow said easily. *He'd be interested to see someone like you a someone who is only play-acting a fine lady. There are strict laws against what you're doing.'

Sarah was transfixed and I could not contain a gasp of horror. Did he actually know something, or was he just trying his luck?

*Although, if you were to grease my palm a little-'

*Wh . . . what?' Sarah faltered.

*He wants money!' Mr Carter barked from above. *Give him what you have and let's be on our way.'

Sarah started, then rummaged in the canvas holdall for the little bag of gold coins we'd been given. Taking out three of these, she thrust them at the fellow.

He looked at the coins, then at us. He seemed astounded, but still he did not move. Panicking now, not really knowing whether what had been given was enough, I s.n.a.t.c.hed the bag from Sarah and pushed another two gold angels into his palm.

*Drive on!' I called to Mr Carter, and as he whipped up the horses the fellow staggered back, staring at the coins he held as if they were stars fallen from the skies.

*We gave him far too much!' Sarah said as we galloped across London Bridge.

*Never mind!' I said. *We're on our way.'

Leaning forward slightly, I pulled back the curtains a little so I could see out. We had crossed the bridge now a that same London Bridge I had approached with such antic.i.p.ation and excitement only a few months before. The traitors' heads were still there on their spikes over the gateway, but I also saw the desolate sight of a newly-hung corpse, a man who a no doubt having contracted the sickness and despairing a had made away with himself.

How green I'd been when I'd arrived. I knew now that it was not only cut-throats and villains that one should be wary of in London, but something far more deadly, something unseen and altogether more terrible.

I looked down at the face of little Grace and breathed out a sigh. She must live on, for her survival was all I could do for Abby.

Abby. My friend. I would think about her later, and would earnestly try to think of the sunny, joyful girl who'd been my sweet companion, and not the pitiful wraith I'd last seen at the window.

I leaned against Sarah for comfort and her head inclined towards mine. We were well on the road now, and I felt we would reach Dorchester and survive, for we had not come this far to be overtaken by man or plague. London would survive, too, and I would return to it, and to Tom, and I knew I would not die unkissed.

Glossary.

atonement being in harmony with G.o.d, from the 16th-century phrase at onement.

cabalistic sign a sign used in a secret or occult doctrine or science.

cambric a fine white linen or cotton fabric.

charnel deathlike.

charnel house a building or vault in which bones or corpses are kept.