'Very well.' Anthony went to his night-table, poured a glass of water from the caraffa there and handed it to his brother. 'What will you ask him to do?'
'Keep me. Hide me. Take me away. Send me to New England.'
'But you're a runaway—to hide you is illegal, and to convey you out of the country must be...'
'He can at least hide me safely. They wouldn't think to search for me at his Embassy, and even if they did they couldn't enter there, because it doesn't belong to England—it's part of New England. Everybody knows that.'
'You forget what they are: they'd have means of persuading him to give you up... Hubert, my dear, why should van den Haag do as you ask?'
'He's my friend. No, I can't tell, but who else is there to ask?'
'No one, but that's not enough.'
'He's kind. He loves music. He doesn't like to be called my lord. He's proud of New England and pleased he's not English. I think...'
'Yes?'
'I think he doesn't like the Pope.'
'I see. So. Drink that up.'
'... No more, thank you.'
'Yes, more. Drink it and stay awake. You have a journey to finish.'
'Oh, Anthony—tomorrow. In the morning.'
'Attend, Hubert, it must be now. Before long, the first servants will be stirring. Then it'll be light. No question but that you'll be seen and fetched to papa, and that'll be the end of your escape. You can go only while it's still dark. I'll take you.' Anthony was dressing as he spoke. 'I can leave this house without making a sound: I've had practice enough coming the other way. Follow me and put your feet where I put mine and you'll be as silent as I am. We'll be in St Edmund Street within an hour.'
In the event, they were there much sooner than that, thanks to a vacant public that drove out of Apostle Andrew Street and turned west as they approached—Hubert stayed clear until he was quite certain that it was not Jack at the wheel. Soon they were passing the elegant and extraordinary structure that housed the Japanese Embassy, like Nagasaki Cathedral the product of the mature genius of Yamamoto, and recognised with it as the culmination of Oriental achievement in modern ecclesiastical architecture. Both in size and in splendour the rest of the street was outdone, not least the modest two-storey brick building proclaimed by a blue-and-white sign to be the Embassy of the Republic of New England.
Anthony ordered the publicman to wait and, with Hubert at his side, approached the entrance where, between a pair of lamps on brick pillars, a gate of tall iron railings shut off access to a paved yard and, beyond it, the Embassy itself. Reaching out, Anthony shook the gate. Within a few seconds there appeared a sentry in red- and-blue uniform with white facings, fusil at the shoulder.
'Good morning, sir. May I help you?'
'Good morning. Yes, you may. I have important business. Please fetch me your officer.'
It was after an almost imperceptible hesitation that the man turned and walked back the way he had come, and less than a minute before he reappeared accompanied by a tall, thin figure in a similar but more opulent uniform. The newcomer held himself stiffly upright and wore a fierce mustach, but he could not have been more than a year or two older than Anthony.
'Good morning, sir. I am Subaltern Reichesberg. I am let know that you have important business here. Kindly state it, sir.'
'I am Anthony Anvil and this is my brother Hubert. We are the children of Master Tobias Anvil, merchantman, of Tyburn Road and Bishopsgate. Your master, His Excellency van den Haag, has employed my brother to obtain for him some information of the highest confidence. He now has that information and is here to deliver it in person, as instructed.'
Anthony thought to himself that this speech had not run very well when he rehearsed it in the public, and sounded no better when delivered. The subaltern seemed to take the same general view, but he did glance for a moment at the sentry before replying: a hopeful sign.
'Why should His Excellency send a child on such an errand? And an English child too?'
'I don't know. A child can obviously find his way to places closed to his elders.'
'Such places as...?'
'I mean of course that folk will speak freely in his presence when they would not before an adult.'
'Ah. Of what import is this supposed information, sir?'
'Considerable, I suppose, given these circumstances. It must touch nothing less than the well-being of your country.'
'Have you no documents at all?'
Anthony had foreseen this question. He answered with well-simulated surprise, 'Naturally not, in a matter of such confidence.'
Reichesberg sighed and raised a white-gloved hand towards his mustach, but lowered it again. 'May I ask you to return at a more suitable hour?'
'That would be to run counter to the boy's instructions. He was told to present himself directly he got the information, at whatever time.'
'Why was I not told to expect you?' asked Reichesberg in a pleading tone.
