We traveled down cobbled streets with ten-foot-high walls on either side making the clip-clop sound of the horse's hooves reverberate eerily. I began to feel quite claustrophobic and silently said a prayer. The coach slowed as we passed through the iron archway to St Katherine’s Dock. I peered out of the window to see the outlines of huge brick warehouses to my left, and boats moored along the quayside to the right. The lilting jingle of chains and ropes as the moored boats bobbed on the high tide made my skin goosebump. On the dockside another carriage waited ahead, its torches dancing in the stiff breeze. The growler, laden with trunks and baggage on top was waiting was beside a ship, where across the steel hull the name CHRISTIANIA was writ large, and beneath, it was noted that the ship was registered at the port of Hamburg.
As our carriage approached the side door of the growler opened and a man in a greatcoat and fur hat similar to the hat worn by Cavell’s other character, Artur Engles, stepped out and stood to wait expectantly with his hands on his hips. I was rather alarmed and turned to give Sebastian a stare of suspicion.
“What the devil’s going on?” For some reason, I thought that Cavell had a room in a dockside establishment to hide Leopold, and when he was awake he could convince him that Lawrence Blake was a blaggard and a fraud. But I was mistaken.
“Come, Benedict! What do you think is going on? I am delivering stolen goods as per my brief.”
“What? Who is that man?”
“Herr Wilhelm Krause. Leopold is going home. The cabal has lost their precious Auserwählter forever.” Sebastian revealed with a self-satisfied purr.
In my heart, I knew what we were doing was a good thing and in the naïve Baron’s best interest. Leopold would soon be back in his own country and out of harm's way.
Cavell thumped the carriage roof to tell the driver to stop, and then he pushed the door open and stepped out.
“Give me a hand will you,” He asked, and so I assisted in moving the drunk and drugged young man in a dress out of the carriage and into Cavell’s arms. Cavell walked toward Herr Krause with Leopold cradled like a maiden who had taken an attack of the vapors. I remained in the carriage, for this part of whatever deal Cavell had struck with Herr Krause had nothing to do with me. I wondered if there were any dangerous men, or Police waiting in the shadows to arrest The Dandy Rogue. Apart from Von Liebenstein’s retainer, Cavell had not told another soul of his plan. I did see the retainer toss a coin purse on the cobbles at Cavell’s feet just before he bundled Leopold into his countryman’s arms. Then Cavell bowed respectfully, picked up the purse, weighed it in his hand nodded, and turned. He made his way back to the coach unmolested as Herr Krause with Leo now tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour, walked towards the gangway to board the ship.
“Bedford Square”, Cavell called to the coach driver as he gracefully climbed aboard and sat in the seat opposite. We silently eyed one another, the coin purse resting on Sebastian’s lap. As our coach moved off and we returned to streets with better lighting, Cavell opened the purse and checked its contents. I did not think he accepted payment for his assignments, but that was naïve of me, the man must acquire sizeable expenses with the efforts he goes to.
I sat in silence for a long time, pondering the rights and wrongs of the events of the evening. The facts known to me were that the Von Liebenstein boy came to London specifically to meet up with Lawrence Blake and join his degenerate cabal. He had been coerced into believing that he was special and that occult forces were at work and his destiny was to be the key to prolonging his life, and the lives of his cohorts through the ingestion of semen. I did not understand how that part was supposed to work, and even though the very same belief was part of many ancient Christian religious rituals I still could not fathom it.
Leo spoke of sacred scrolls and the fact it was ‘written’ that he was the key to whatever this nonsense was. The enormity of what we had done hit me. We had just crossed seven influential men and stolen the key to their secret debauched scheme. What would men like that do when they discovered their chosen one was missing? I was the new ‘brother’ who had been honored with a night of fortification with Leopold, and the Baron had gone missing on my watch, as it were.
“They’re going to ask me what happened, aren’t they,” I said in a low, frightened voice.
“They are.”
“I was the last to be seen with him, what am I going to say?”
“Don’t worry dear heart; we have plenty of time to decide what to do”, Cavell reassured sleepily. He smiled to himself and then went to push the purse into the pocket of the coat that had once belonged to Leopold. He dropped the jingling purse into the pocket
