Both men were silent.
‘Well, that’s just lovely. Try to do the right thing by the nation and this is all the thanks we get?’
‘We’re not here to hand out bouquets and applause, we are here to keep the people safe,’ said Moss. ‘If it is any comfort, you have no red flags by your names. In fact, you are regarded as, on balance, sound, particularly after that affair with the French agents at the Egyptian House.’
Dora wished she could tell Lord Liverpool’s government to stick their regard, but Moss was only the messenger, not the one who made the decisions. ‘Well, I can promise Jacob wasn’t wandering around Billingsgate. When was it?’
‘Ten days ago.’
‘Ten days ago, waiting to whack someone over the head with a crook. We had already departed for what we laughably thought was a holiday, though we took it in easy stages. I can probably remember which inn we were staying in that night if that is necessary to clear us.’
Moss shook his head. ‘No need. I wasn’t seriously looking in your direction.’
‘But you are looking at the circle around… which one do you consider the centre?’ asked Jacob. Dora thought it an excellent question. They’d been dividing them into two groups on the lines of their literary taste but not thought to ask what brought them together.
‘We’ve been monitoring them since Cambridge when some of their student writings raised concerns with those who watch for such things. Langhorne, Barton and Knotte were friends from that time, did you know that?’
Jacob nodded. ‘Langhorne said their shared passion was theLyrical Ballads.’
‘Did he?’ Moss snorted in disgust. ‘I would’ve said that their private reading club, where they read Tom Paine, William Godwin and God knows what else, was a more fundamental bond.’
‘But the men all have roots in this area, do they not?’ asked Dora.
‘True, and all complain they were mocked for their northern accents. Barton lost his by the second year, he once told me, whereas Knotte has held to his. Get him drunk and he reverts to the dialect of his youth.’
‘Nothing wrong with that.’
‘I didn’t say there was. After Cambridge, they spent a summer walking in Scotland. Barton funded their excursion as he does everything else. They met up with Cooper in Edinburgh where he was visiting relatives and found they had much in common.’
‘Because Cooper must also be a local man as the regiment is from these parts,’ supplied Jacob.
‘Exactly, he hies from Penrith. Everything kept coming back to Cumberland. Cooper was impressed by their familiarity with radical writings. By then he’d experienced the stupidity of his commanders and that made him ripe for recruitment into their brotherhood. Crawford followed, because Crawford follows Cooper everywhere.’
‘How does that work? I would find it annoying,’ asked Dora.
‘I think Cooper does, but Crawford is a second cousin, and he’s made a promise to his mother to guide the younger man’s path in the army. I couldn’t think of a worse guardian myself. This was the point that the government was concerned enough to send me out and where I added myself to the number.’
‘How did you do that?’
‘There was no entrance exam, just willingness to agree with them. I gave a few stirring speeches at a debate club we all attended, the theme on the anniversary of the Fall of the Bastille being the brotherhood of man and the march of progress, and I was welcomed to the fold. I assured my place by presenting myself as an admirer ofPolitical JusticeandRights of Man.’
‘That’s not hard to do as they are both fine pieces of political writing,’ said Jacob.
‘Oh, I agree. In a perfect society where men wish each other well and don’t feel any evil passions, such things would come to be.’
‘Then why hound them?’
‘It is not the theory that poses the problem, but the methods people choose to realise the goals. Ask the late Prime Minister.’
‘We don’t need to. We were there,’ said Dora.
Moss threw up his hands in exasperation. ‘I wouldn’t advertise that fact if I were you. Those flags against your names might change colour.’
‘I hope you are joking,’ said Dora.
‘I hope so too.’
‘What about Wright?’ asked Jacob, returning them to their subject. ‘How does he fit in?’
