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“Really?” Gideon’s smile was ironic again. This time I ignored it.
“Yes, really, I’m beginning to get the hang of this.” I looked out the window of the coach. “I’m sure we didn’t drive past these meadows on the way to Lord Brompton’s, did we?”
“No. We’re in Hyde Park,” said Gideon, suddenly wide awake and on the alert. He leaned out. “Hey, Wilbour or whatever your name is, why are we driving this way? We have to get back to the Temple by the shortest possible route.”
I couldn’t make out what the man on the box said in reply.
“Stop at once!” Gideon ordered. He looked pale when he turned back to me.
“What’s going on?”
“I don’t know,” he said. “The man says his orders are to take us to a meeting place at the southern end of the park.”
The horses had stopped, and Gideon opened the carriage door. “There’s something wrong here. We don’t have much time left before we travel back. I’ll take the horses’ reins and drive us to the Temple.” He got out and closed the door again. “Whatever happens, stay in the coach.”
At that moment, there was a loud bang. I instinctively ducked. I knew that sound only from films, but I recognized it at once as a shot being fired. I heard a soft cry, the horses whinnied, and the coach jolted forward but then came to a halt again, rocking.
“Get your head down!” shouted Gideon, and I threw myself flat on the seat.
A second shot was fired. The silence that followed the noise was more than I could stand.
“Gideon?” I sat up and looked out.
On the grass outside the window, Gideon had drawn his sword. “Keep down, I told you!”
Thank God, he was still alive. Although maybe not for much longer. Two men had appeared as if from nowhere, both dressed in black, and a third was riding a horse out of the shadow of the trees. A silvery pistol gleamed in his hand.
Gideon was fighting the other two men at the same time. They were all silent, and except for their gasping and the clash of their swords, there was nothing to hear. For a few seconds I watched, fascinated, admiring Gideon’s skill with a sword. It was like something out of a film, every thrust, feint, and leap was perfect, as if stuntmen had been working on the choreography for days. But when one of the men in black cried out and fell to his knees, with a jet of blood shooting out of his throat, I came to my senses. This wasn’t a film, this was for real. And though the swords might be deadly weapons (the man who’d been hit was now lying on the ground twitching and making horrible sounds), there didn’t seem to me much they could do against pistols. Why wasn’t Gideon carrying a pistol? It would have been easy to bring a useful weapon like that from home. And where was the coachman? Why wasn’t he fighting beside Gideon?
By now the mounted man had come up to them and got off his horse. To my surprise, he too had drawn a sword and was attacking Gideon with it. Why didn’t he use the pistol? He’d thrown it down on the grass, where it was no good to anyone.
“Who are you? What do you want?” asked Gideon.
“Only your life,” said the man who had been the last to arrive.
“Well, you’re not having it!”
“Oh, we shall take it, you may be sure of that!”
And as I watched it through the window, the fight went on, still like a well-rehearsed ballet. The wounded man was now lying motionless on the ground, so that the others had to fight around him.
Gideon parried every attacking thrust as if he knew in advance what his opponents were going to do, but no doubt they had also had fencing lessons since childhood. Once I saw one of the men’s blades hiss toward Gideon’s shoulder while he was busy parrying his other opponent’s thrust. Only an agile sideways turn prevented the sword from striking home. Presumably it would have taken half Gideon’s arm off. I heard wood splintering as the man’s blade struck the coach instead.
This couldn’t be true! Who were these characters, and why were they after us?
I quickly slid across the seat and peered through the window on the other side. Wasn’t there anyone around to see what was going on here? Could you really be attacked like this in Hyde Park in broad daylight, in the middle of the afternoon? The fight seemed to last forever.
Although Gideon was holding his own against two men at once, it didn’t look as if he could ever fend them off completely. His opponents were forcing him to retreat more and more, and in the end, they would surely win the fight.
I had no idea how much time had passed since I heard the first shot, or how long we still had to wait before we traveled back, but it was probably unlikely that we’d dissolve into thin air before the eyes of Gideon’s attackers. I couldn’t bear it any longer, sitting in this coach just watching them prepare to murder Gideon.
Maybe I could climb out the window and fetch help?
For a brief moment, I wasn’t sure whether the huge hooped skirt would fit through the gap, but a second later, I was standing on the sandy carriageway trying to get my bearings.
I heard only gasping from the other side of the coach, along with curses and the pitiless ring of blade on metal blade.
“Surrender, why don’t you?” gasped one of the strangers.
