"Probably too deep for the Tories. They are, after all, but a political party, and not the sort of men to engage in this level of mischief."

I understood his meaning. "The Jacobites?"

"Hush," he snapped at me. "Don't speak that word so loudly in my presence. I'm a Scot, don't forget, and easily a target for accusations. But yes, I do believe they may be behind this. Whigs and Tories may well do a bit of rioting and wrecking, and things may get ugly when they get angry with one another, but cold-blooded murder is, as yet, not a party tool-not even in election time. Some of these Jacobites schemers, however, are a bit bolder. If they believe that causing the Whigs to lose a seat in Westminster might inspire the French enough to fund an invasion, you may be sure there is no shortage of men willing to bash the faces of a hundred Grostons rather than let the opportunity slide."

"Why mention me at all? Jacobites are no friends of the Jews. Do you not find all this a bit unusual? The Whigs have always been criticized for their excessive toleration of Jews and nonconformists, and the Tories have always railed against Jews and dissenters gaining too much power."

"I don't think it signifies anything but opportunism," he said. "Piers Rowley, a Whig appointee, unjustly made certain of your prosecution, and you defied him by escaping. No one could have predicted it, but you have become an anti-Whig rallying cry whether you wish to be or no. And you know how the English are. If they decide they want to hate Jews one minute and embrace them the next, they will do so and never notice their hypocrisy."

"d.a.m.n these plottings," I murmured. "First the white rose that Groston gave me, and now there is more." I told Elias about my encounter with Greenbill and his gang, and of one of the porter's underlings informing me that Johnson was a well-known Jacobite.

"It would seem," Elias said thoughtfully, "that someone sought to implicate an alliance between you and the Jacobites even before your trial became a political cause. Who would want to do so? Not the Jacobites, surely."

"No," I said. "My enemy must be someone who hates me and Jacobites equally."

"Once again, we must turn to Dennis Dogmill," he observed. "And once again, we cannot even say why he should wish you ill, nor can we say who the woman who aided your escape might be. There are still far too many questions, Weaver, and no answers."

"I like it no more than you. I cannot even think what I must do next."

He shrugged. "You might hope they don't kill anyone else in your name."

"But they will," I said. "And I know whom they will kill too."

His eyes widened. "The witnesses against you from the trial?"

I nodded.

"But why? What harm can they do?"

"I don't know, but they can be killed without disturbing anyone of note, and their deaths can easily be blamed on me."

"Weaver, you seem to be facing far more than you can handle. This is by several degrees more severe than the death of a laborer. There is something at work here that smells of a genuine a.s.sault against the nation. The Jacobites are gathering their forces, and they are using you to screen themselves. You must go to the ministry and tell all. They will protect you."

"Are you mad? It was the government's party that condemned me to death and set all this in motion. For all I know, it is the government itself that wanted to link me with the Jacobites. And even if there are not powerful Whigs behind all of this, if I should choose to go to them now, how can I know they won't pin the conspiracy on me? They might happily hang me at Tyburn and count their votes without troubling themselves to wonder who is guilty and who is not. You know full well they might prefer to take advantage of the moment than actually see justice served."

"Yes, yes. You are right, there. They would gladly string you up so they could point to you and say, Here is a Jacobite plotter. We've proven the threat is real. Here is a Jacobite plotter. We've proven the threat is real. So what will you do now?" So what will you do now?"

"Find the witnesses first and be there when the killer comes for them."

I hated once more to call on Mendes, but circ.u.mstances were such that I had no choice, and as there were lives other than my own in the balance, I thought it improper to stand upon ceremony. I therefore wrote to him, asking that he meet me at his rooms that night-with the request that he send his reply to a coffeehouse I had previously designated. When I went to retrieve my messages I found that Mendes had written back, indicating that he did not believe it would be safe for us to meet at his home, and instead asked me to lease a room in the back of a tavern of my choosing, and then let him know when and where. I took care of this task immediately and sent him the information, though I was now on edge, for I could not think why his rooms would not be safe. Had someone discovered our previous meetings? Did an enemy of mine keep Mendes under surveillance? hated once more to call on Mendes, but circ.u.mstances were such that I had no choice, and as there were lives other than my own in the balance, I thought it improper to stand upon ceremony. I therefore wrote to him, asking that he meet me at his rooms that night-with the request that he send his reply to a coffeehouse I had previously designated. When I went to retrieve my messages I found that Mendes had written back, indicating that he did not believe it would be safe for us to meet at his home, and instead asked me to lease a room in the back of a tavern of my choosing, and then let him know when and where. I took care of this task immediately and sent him the information, though I was now on edge, for I could not think why his rooms would not be safe. Had someone discovered our previous meetings? Did an enemy of mine keep Mendes under surveillance?

I would have to wait to learn. At the appropriate time I changed out of my Matthew Evans costume and then slipped out the window into the alley. It would have been far easier, and far safer, simply to stroll there like a gentleman, particularly since the papers reported that Weaver had been seen in some of the more unpleasant parts of town. But even though Mendes had proved himself a most worthwhile ally, I could never think of confiding all my secrets to him.

I was glad I had taken the precaution, for I soon discovered I had trusted Mr. Mendes perhaps more than I ought. When I walked into the room I had rented, I found him waiting for me, but he was not alone.

Jonathan Wild was by his side.

Until the time he met his fate at the end of a hangman's noose, I don't know that Wild ever came as close to death as he did at that moment-and I include in my reckoning the incident in which Blueskin Blake famously stabbed him in the throat. In an instant I had kicked closed the door and withdrawn a pistol from my pocket. I came within an inch of discharging it directly into his head.

But I paused. I believe it was the look on Wild's face: one of utter composure. It suggested to me that either Wild had not come to harm me or he had come so fully prepared to harm me that he had nothing to fear. In either case, I was eager enough to avoid adding another charge of murder to my troubles that I hesitated.

"Put it away," he said to me, as he drank from his pot of ale. "If I wanted you taken, you'd have been taken by now. As it is, you're of far more use to me free than you would be in chains. And you're sadly mistaken if you think a hundred and fifty pounds is enough to turn my head."

I lowered my pistol and approached the table. Mendes had already produced me an ale. "You've nothing to fear," he said.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were bringing him here?" I asked Mendes, still not ready to sit.

Mendes remained impa.s.sive. With Wild around, he was no longer his own man but the thieftaker's puppet. I would get nothing from him. "He did not tell you," Wild said, "because you would not have come."

It was true enough, but it did not, in my mind, excuse the deception. Still, I had no one to blame but myself. As much as I should have liked to have trusted Mendes, I knew he was Wild's creature, and I could not be surprised that he would bring his master to meet me. The only question remaining was why.

Wild had about him a manner that was so comfortable and at ease that any man who showed himself to be anxious must think himself pitiable. This great thief had the strange ability to make every man believe in his corrupt authority, and I found that, though I knew what he was, I believed it too if I was not careful. I therefore clenched every muscle in my body in resolve to resist his strange charms.

"Let us not trouble ourselves with these niceties." I held myself straight in the effort to create a false authority of my own, but the thin smile on the thieftaker's lips told me that I had not done a very good job. "I have been uneasy with your involvement in my troubles since your appearance at my trial."

"Have you?" he asked. His features were so sharp and angular, I thought they should shatter under the pressure of his smile. "Would you be easier if I had spoken ill of you, as you had no doubt antic.i.p.ated?"

"I should have been less surprised, certainly."

"I am sorry to have surprised you, but I should think you would be more grateful. I set aside whatever differences we might have had in order to do you a good turn. You and I are used to scrambling after the same prize-or, worse, being opposed to each other. But in this matter I am your greatest friend."

"I am under no illusions that you did so for any reason but to serve yourself. Mr. Mendes has made me aware that you have no love for Dennis Dogmill, and you relish the idea of my doing him harm."

"True enough. I suspected his involvement the moment I heard Yate was dead. And Mendes tells me you have no knowledge of the woman who pa.s.sed you the housebreaking tools. Is that right?"

"I still believe it was your doing," I said, though I was not sure I did.

He laughed. "You may believe it if you like. It must certainly make you angry to think me that much involved in your rescue. But I had no hand in that little scheme."

I shook my head. "Then what is it you want? Why have you come here?"

"Only to offer you a.s.sistance, Weaver. Faith, I am no friend of the Tories, any man can see that, but this Dogmill and his lapdog Hertcomb are a plague upon my business. I should support Cardinal Wolsey if he ran against Hertcomb and made Dogmill his enemy. I thought for certain that this race was all sewn up for those villains, but then you come along and make the situation far more interesting. So long as you are running about town, knocking over ruffians and searching for the truth, it is good news for me. For that reason I am happy to a.s.sist you."

I spat out a bitter laugh. "And if I should fail, good riddance to me. If I should succeed, you imagine I will be in your debt."

He tilted his head just slightly, a mild gesture of agreement. "You have always shown yourself a reasonable man, Weaver. I have no doubt that a good turn done now might yield some fruit in the future. So I have come to see what I can do for you. Some money, perhaps?"

I scowled in contempt. I would not have Wild offering me money like a generous uncle. "I have no need of your money."

"It spends quite as well as another man's, I promise you. But as to your means, your judge-thieving methods seem to work out quite nicely for you. Though I must say that Rowley has always been a pliable fellow. I am sorry to see you've driven him into convalescent retirement."

"I'd always believed him reliable as well. Why should he turn on me as he did?"

"It is an election season," Wild said complaisantly. "They were dangerous enough when elections were held every three years. Now that they are every seven, the prize is worth a great deal more, and men will go to far greater lengths in support of their party or, I should say, their interests. Rowley only did what was required of him by Dogmill. There is no more to it than that."

"I don't know," I said.

Wild turned to Mendes. "It appears that our friend has been corrupted by his encounters with the South Sea men. Now he believes everything deeper than the appearance. You'll never clear your name if you look for hidden plots and intrigues. The answer is on the surface, I promise you. It is but Dogmill's greed."

"And what can I do about it? Dogmill has power over every judge in Westminster."

"I hardly know what to say," Wild said, with a mischievous grin. "What are you doing about it now?" When I said nothing he added, "Other than killing fellows like Groston, I mean."

I shifted uneasily. "That's why I wished to see Mendes. I didn't kill Groston."

"Never laid a hand upon him, I suppose."

"I gave him what he deserved, but no more than that. But whoever is behind Groston's death will surely move against the two witnesses who testified against me at my trial."

He nodded. "Mendes should be able to track them down without difficulty. Would you like to speak to them when we find them?"

I nodded. "Yes. I won't have these sods killed just so that my enemies can pin more deaths upon my chest. And there is always the chance they might have information that could be of use."

"Then we shall find them straightaway," Wild a.s.sured me. We next took a moment to figure a means whereby they could contact me. "Is there any other way we might serve you?" he then asked.

I was now full of regret that I had trusted these men so far as I had, but these were trying times and I would resolve the tangles I made in the future. "No," I said. "If you do that, it should suffice."

CHAPTER 16.

AS ELIAS had promised, news of Matthew Evans's alleged arrival appeared in the had promised, news of Matthew Evans's alleged arrival appeared in the London Gazette London Gazette and a few other papers of note, so even while the Whig papers condemned Benjamin Weaver as a murderer and the Tories defended him as a maligned victim, the Tory Tobacco Man was making his glorious debut. While villains murdered men in my name, I remained a fugitive, and it struck me as almost frivolous that I had to see to the obligations of my private masquerade. and a few other papers of note, so even while the Whig papers condemned Benjamin Weaver as a murderer and the Tories defended him as a maligned victim, the Tory Tobacco Man was making his glorious debut. While villains murdered men in my name, I remained a fugitive, and it struck me as almost frivolous that I had to see to the obligations of my private masquerade.

Nevertheless, this was the path I had chosen and I had no choice but to proceed. That night I arrived at the Hampstead a.s.sembly promptly at ten o'clock. I was a bit early, but I thought it best to be so that I might be noticed.

The room itself was gorgeous, a great domed a.s.sembly hall full of sparkling gilt chandeliers, bright red furnishings, tables of food, and a sparkling white-tiled floor. Already the s.p.a.ce was filled by enough people that my presence would not prove conspicuous. Near one end, the musicians played adequately and dancers moved gaily across the floor. A crowd gathered around the banquet table, on which raisin cakes and sliced pears, shrimps pickled with prunes, and other dainties had been set out with great care. At a more crowded table, men gathered to collect punch for themselves and their ladies. Over on the far side of the hall was the entrance to the card room, where older women, chaperoning their daughters and wards, retired to amuse themselves while the young frolicked. No such closeting was required for older men, who were there as much as the younger to seek matrimonial companionship or, at the very least, to pretend to be engaged in such a quest.

I had circled the room twice before I heard my name called out-or at least my false name. It was called two or three times before I responded, not yet having grown used to the sound of it, and then I found myself surprised. Who, after all, knew me to call that name? But when I turned I saw none other than Griffin Melbury, who was standing with a small group of people.

"Ah, Mr. Evans," Melbury said, taking my hand warmly. He continued to radiate the patrician reserve I had detected at our last meeting, but it seemed to me that I had earned his trust with my little ruse. I returned his embrace and forced myself to wear a mask of pleasure.

And forced it was. I felt a clammy revulsion as I touched him. Here was the hand that touched Miriam-touched her as only a husband can. For an instant I thought of crushing his flesh, of pounding upon him, but I knew this urge was both irrational and impolitic. So I maintained my smile instead, though the falseness of it made my flesh feel heavy and doughy.

"I'm glad to see you again, Melbury."

"I wondered if you might not be here. I know you are new to town, so there are some people I should like you to meet." He then began a dizzying array of introductions-to priests and old monied men and the sons of earls and dukes. I would have found it a challenge to repeat these names moments after they were given, let alone so many years later. But there were a few of these people whom I found remarkable at once.

First, he pulled me off to one far side and introduced me to a man I had already met. "This," Melbury told me, "is my great enemy, Mr. Albert Hertcomb."

I shook Hertcomb's hand, and he smiled agreeably at me. "Mr. Evans and I have already met. Sir, you must not look so surprised," he told me. "You must not think Mr. Melbury and I need be uncivil because we compete for the same seat in Parliament. After all, you and I can be friendly with each other, and we are of different parties."

"I own that party need not rule all things or men, but I confess that I am surprised to see you on such merry terms."

Melbury laughed. "I rejoice that things are not so grim that I must hate a man simply because he vies for the same prize I do."

"Faith," said Hertcomb, "I have never felt animosity toward any man, even if he be what is termed a political enemy. enemy. To my mind, an enemy is but a man who is opposed to me, and nothing more." To my mind, an enemy is but a man who is opposed to me, and nothing more."

"How would another man define the word?" I asked.

"Oh, much more harshly than I do, I am sure. But I don't care to trouble myself with this word or that. A political man is, after all, not a doctor of rhetoric."

"But you must make speeches," I proposed.

"Of course. The speeches are the very thing in the House, but they're not about words, you know. They're about the ideas behind the words. That's what matters."

"It is good advice," Melbury said. "I shall be certain to remember it when I a.s.sume my seat. Ha-ha."

Melbury then excused us, and he pulled me with a little too much force to one side. "What a fool," he whispered to me, as we moved away. "I cannot say that I've ever met such a dunderhead above the station of s...o...b..ack. It takes an idiot like that to have Dogmill as a sponsor."

"You presented a very different opinion to the man himself," I said, taking some delight in my unveiling of his hypocrisy.

"In truth, I have something of a fondness for Mr. Hertcomb. He is a simple man, and in all likelihood he means no harm. It is Mr. Dogmill, his agent, I object to."

I could not have asked for a better introduction to a topic of such import. "I get the impression he has no love for Dogmill himself."

"It shouldn't surprise me. I have never met a man less deserving to be loved. I tell you, I cannot abide that man. I long to serve the House in Westminster, I don't deny it. I am a patriot, Mr. Evans, in the truest sense of the word. I want only to do good for my kingdom and my Church. I want only to see the men whose families have built up this island-old families like ours, whose fathers have bled in defense of the realm-retain their rightful place. I cannot love to look upon true Englishmen robbed of their influence by a pack of Jews and stockjobbers and atheists. But when I win my seat, I will relish it all the more for taking the power away from Dogmill. I want to destroy him, to grind him into the dust."

I did not try to hide my surprise. "I honor your compet.i.tive spirit, sir, but are these sentiments not beyond the normal bounds of politics?"

"Perhaps so. I confess to you that I am p.r.o.ne to hatreds. I do not hate many men in this world, but those I do I hate with pa.s.sion-some with good reason and some, I admit, for little reason at all. But Dogmill-he is a species unto himself. I lost a bit of money in that South Sea Company confidence game; many of us did, of course. But there were some friends of Dogmill's family on the board, and he directed Hertcomb to shelter them, to use all the influence he could muster in the House to protect these criminals. I ask you, sir. Is it not contemptible for a man to use the full power of the government merely to look after the business of his friends?"

"I admire the strength of your feeling," I said, though I felt certain there must be more to this animosity than Dogmill's wade into the Whiggish pool of corruption.

"You know nothing of the strength of my feeling. I tell you, there are some days when I am exhausted from my work, but the thought of dashing Dogmill's hopes invigorates me and makes me feel like a man who has slept ten hours."

"Is there nothing more to this rage than that he directed Hertcomb to shelter South Sea men?" I found this hard to believe. There had to be some other root to this anger, and discovering it might well aid my cause.

"Why, is not that enough? He is a villain, sir, one of the worst kind. I believe I would rather die than lose to him."

After a moment, I said, "I honor your determination, sir, and promise you that I shall do all in my power to see that you take your rightful place."

"I appreciate that, Mr. Evans, I do indeed. For the moment, I shall only inform you that the most expedient thing you can do in my cause is to cast your vote for me."

"I fear I cannot. I must remind you of how recently I am arrived on this island."

"It appears to me," he said, "you have forgotten that you established a residence here long before you arrived, and as you have paid all sufficient taxes on that residence, I think you will find your name is in the register of voters, as it should be."

Clearly Melbury had used his influence to add my name to the books. I could not imagine that I was the only voter he had illegally added. If he had managed to insert so many as a hundred men into the register, it could make the difference in a tight race.

"How can you manage such a thing?" I asked.