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Paul stowed the bundle of letters away under his coat and held up the brown envelope. “Five pages of the family tree of the de Villiers family, beginning in the sixteenth century with Lancelot de Villiers, the first time traveler, and ending with Gideon de Villiers, born in the twentieth century.”
“And the female line?” asked Lord Alastair, and now he almost sounded excited.
“It’s all in there as well. Beginning with Elaine Burghley and ending with the name of Gwyneth Shepherd.” Speaking her name gave Paul a pang. He cast a quick glance at the two men. They had stopped under the arch, hands on the hilts of their swords, as if they were waiting for something. Gritting his teeth, he admitted to himself that he could guess what it was.
“Good. Then give it to me.”
Paul hesitated. “You haven’t kept to our agreement,” he said, trying to gain time. He pointed to the two men. “You were going to come alone.”
Lord Alastair followed his gaze with indifference. “A gentleman of my social rank is never alone. My servants accompany me everywhere.” He took another step forward. “Now, give me the papers! I’ll see to the rest of it myself.”
o;Gwen. I want to explain.…” Gideon disappeared into thin air in front of me. For a few seconds, as the chill came back into my body, I stared at the flickering torchlight and the death’s-head, tried to suppress my tears, and then everything blurred before my eyes.
It took me a few seconds to get used to the light in the chronograph room of my own time, but I heard the alarm in Dr. White’s voice and the sound of ripping fabric.
“It’s nothing,” said Gideon. “Only a tiny cut. It hardly bled at all. I don’t even need a plaster for it, Dr. White, and you can put those clamps away again! Nothing happened.”
“Hello, haystack girl!” said Xemerius. “You’ll never guess what we’ve found out! Oh, no! You haven’t been crying again, have you?”
Mr. George took hold of me with both hands and swung me once around my own axis. “She’s not injured!” he said, with relief in his voice.
Not injured, no, except for my heart.
“Let’s get out of here,” said Xemerius. “Bonehead’s brother and your friend Lesley have something very interesting to tell you! Guess what? They’ve tracked down the place described by the coordinates in the Green Rider code. You’ll never believe it!”
“Gwyneth?” Gideon was looking at me as if he was afraid I might throw myself under the first bus to come along, all because of him.
“I’m fine,” I said, without looking him in the eye. “Mr. George, could you please take me upstairs? I have to go home. It’s urgent.”
“Of course.” Mr. George nodded.
Gideon made a movement, but Dr. White was holding him. “Oh, keep still, for heaven’s sake!” He had torn the sleeves of Gideon’s jacket and the shirt he was wearing under it right off. The bare arm was encrusted with blood, and I saw a small cut up almost by Gideon’s shoulder. The little ghost boy Robert was staring at all the blood in horror.
“Who did this? It will have to be disinfected and stitched,” said Dr. White gloomily.
“Certainly not,” said Gideon. He was pale, and there was nothing left of the high spirits he’d shown back in the eighteenth century. “We can see about that later. I have to talk to Gwyneth first.”
“There’s really no need,” I said. “I know all I want to know. And now I have to go home.”
“I should just about think so!” said Xemerius.
“Tomorrow is another day,” Mr. George told Gideon, as he picked up the black scarf. “And Gwyneth looks tired. She has to go to school tomorrow morning.”
“Exactly!” said Xemerius. “And tonight she’s going on a treasure hunt. Or a hunt for whatever those coordinates lead us to.”
Mr. George blindfolded me. The last thing I saw was Gideon’s eyes, looking unnaturally green in his pale face.
“Good night, everyone,” I said, and then Mr. George led me out of the room. No one had answered me anyway, except for little Robert.
“Okay, I’ll put you out of your suspense,” said Xemerius. “Lesley and Raphael had a lot of fun this afternoon—unlike you, I guess from the look of you. Well, anyway, the two of them managed to locate the place described in the coordinates precisely. You can have three guesses where it is.”
“Here in London?” I asked.
“Bingo!” cried Xemerius.
“What did you say?” Mr. George asked me.
“Nothing,” I said. “Excuse me, Mr. George.”
