That spineless father of yours? Why, he'd as soon see you burnt on a pyre than refuse me anything!'

He planted his other hand on to Frances's pretty face and pulled her round to kiss him, his fingers pinching her soft cheeks.

Disgusted, Frances tried to drag her face away but Copper persisted, his aged, bristly face sc.r.a.ping over her lips.

Fighting back the only way she could, Frances found Copper's lips and savagely bit into them. She felt the soft flesh yield beneath her incisors and Copper yelled in anguish.

He tried to push her off but she held on as long as she could. Finally, he smacked her on the side of the face and she fell to the floor, her head ringing.

Copper shot to his feet, blood streaming from his mouth.

His hand rose automatically to the wound and he examined his bloodied fingers.

's.l.u.t! Harlot!' he raged. 'I shall make you pay dearly for this!'

There were heavy steps on the stairs and the door was flung open to reveal William Kemp.

He looked down at Frances and then at Copper, taking in the scene in an instant.

'What perfidy is this?' he bellowed.

Copper looked round, holding a lacy handkerchief to his torn and bleeding lip.

'This animal you call daughter tried to force herself upon me, Kemp. I'faith, she is even more the wh.o.r.e than we took her for.'

Frances groaned and shook her head violently. 'It's not true, Father. He... he tried to...'

She tailed off miserably. What was the point? Her father never took any notice of her.

Copper laughed through his handkerchief.

'See? She cannot even gather her wits sufficient to lie! If I were you, Kemp, I should '

Copper was suddenly silenced by Kemp's fist, which lashed out and caught him directly on the point of his bearded chin.

He staggered backward and fell against the window cas.e.m.e.nt, dragging the curtain down from its rail with a great rending tear.

There was a stunned silence and then Kemp advanced on him, his shoulders down like a fist-fighter's and his face red with fury. 'You scoundrel! Get out of my house! Out, I say.

And never return!'

Copper got to his feet with as much dignity as he could muster. Then he s.n.a.t.c.hed the scroll from the table and moved to the door. He turned as he departed.

'You are a fool, Kemp. I could have helped you and your wretched family. Now you have nothing. And I warn you, if you attempt to disrupt our plans I will bring down ruin and destruction upon your head.'

His face, already swollen from Frances's attack, contorted into a snarl and he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

For a long moment, Frances remained sprawled on the floor. Then she picked herself up and sat down at the table.

She avoided her father's look, not sure how to take this new development. Hands shaking, she began to rearrange her hair beneath her cap.

Kemp walked slowly to the table and sat down opposite her. He looked at her delicate face, flushed with emotion.

'Frances...'

She glanced quickly upward and held out her hands across the table. Kemp took them gratefully in his own and then swung himself around so that he was able to embrace her.

'Oh, my child,' he sobbed. 'My little child.'

The Doctor, Jamie, and Polly were patiently awaiting the arrival of Thurloe's promised transportation when the door to theirTower cell was opened again and Richard Cromwell was ushered inside.

He nodded at the jailer just as Thurloe had done before him but with such fumbling indecision that the jailer wasn't at all sure what Richard wanted him to do.

'That's all,' explained Richard. 'I'll call when I need you.'

The door was slammed shut and Richard jumped a little at the crash it made. He advanced meekly into the room.

Polly frowned. 'Who are you?'

The Doctor intervened. 'This is Richard Cromwell, Polly.

Son of Oliver and one day to be Lord Protector of England.'

Richard heaved a huge sigh. 'Don't try to humour me, Doctor. It really doesn't matter what becomes of me.'

The Doctor rushed forward and took him by the arm.

'Matter? Of course it matters. Whatever gave you that idea?'

Richard shook his head. 'I cannot please my father, no matter what I do. He won't even look at the book.'

Sniffing to himself, he took Every Boy's Book of the Every Boy's Book of the English Civil Wars English Civil Wars from his cloak and handed it to the Doctor. from his cloak and handed it to the Doctor.

'Here,' he said feebly, 'have it back. It is no earthly use to me.'

The Doctor took the book and pressed it to his chest like an old friend.

He grinned from one ear to the other and patted Richard on the shoulder.

'Now you just listen to me, Richard Cromwell.'

Richard looked up, defeated. 'Hmm?'

The Doctor tapped the book and frowned seriously. 'It isn't given to all of us to be great men. Sometimes it's more important to play your part in the whole great tide of history.

You'll be important in all sorts of ways that haven't even occurred to you yet.'

Richard wasn't convinced. 'Like what?'

The Doctor looked at Jamie and Polly, momentarily flummoxed. 'Well,' he said at last. 'The Protectorate will end with you. Your side will realise too late that they should not have used the hereditary principle and Charles the Second will be invited to take the throne.'

Richard snorted. 'And I should be happy to be remembered as that? 'Sblood, I'd rather die in obscurity.'

The Doctor stuffed the book into his pocket and walked towards Richard. 'Sit down, please,' he said calmly.

Richard sat down on the end of the straw mattress and folded his arms.

'Now then,' murmured the Doctor. 'You must understand that it's always hard for the children of great men and women.

So much to live up to. Such expectations.' His voice was soothing and regular, like a steady pulse.

'Yes,' said Richard. 'Such expectations.'

The Doctor came closer and looked deep into Richard's eyes. 'And you're doing very well, you know. Very well. I don't see how you manage. Such a burden on your shoulders. I don't know when you find time to sleep.'

'Sleep,' muttered Richard, his eyelids drooping.

'Sleep,' repeated the Doctor. 'Time to sleep.'

'Time to... sleep,' said Richard in a drawl.

His head fell forward on to his chest.

Polly got up and crossed to Richard. 'Doctor!' she exclaimed. 'How did you do that?'

The Doctor chuckled. 'You don't think a little elementary hypnosis is beyond me, do you? I knew someone ages ago who taught me. Of course, he was an absolute master...'

Jamie peered at Richard. 'He's sound as a top.'

'Good,' said the Doctor softly. 'Then I'll begin.'

He bent down in front of Richard. 'Richard, I want you to listen very carefully to me. Everything I have told you, everything you read in that strange little book, was all untrue.

A dream. You must forget it. Forget it for ever...'

Bruised and in a foul temper, Captain Stanislaus stood by the wheel of the Teazer Teazer as his ship finally slunk into London. as his ship finally slunk into London.

The night was fine and clear now, the rich black sky sparkling with stars, but Stanislaus did not waver from his contemplation of the port and scarcely moved as his ship manoeuvred through the ranks of silent vessels already moored there. He did not look over his shoulder but could sense the blackened ruin of his cabin lurking behind him like the bones of stranded whale. The air was still acrid from the smoke and tiny fragments of his precious doc.u.ments crumbled beneath his boots as he stood in silence. It was a miracle he had managed to get G.o.dley and the Dutchman out of the cabin in time, but then he had not survived this long by being a half-wit.

And now Sal Winter had paid dearly for the damage she had inflicted upon his beloved Teazer Teazer. Soon, all those who defied him would meet a similar fate.

Footsteps echoed below and G.o.dley emerged on to the deck. He grinned at Stanislaus's sullen features and looked out over the water.

'Come, come, Captain,' he said. 'Not mourning over the fair Winter, are we?'

Stanislaus's mouth tightened into a thin line. 'She was mine. You should not have acted as you did.'

G.o.dley's smile vanished. 'Had I not, then you would be face down in the mud now, sir, or have you forgotten that?'

Stanislaus whirled round. 'I could have bettered her. I know it. 'Twas but a matter of time.'

G.o.dley shook his handsome head. 'Time was what you did not have, Stanislaus. My musket ball saved your skin. That is what you cannot bear to admit.'

Stanislaus folded his arms and stood in sullen silence. At last he sighed and, without turning to G.o.dley, said, 'Is all prepared?'

G.o.dley nodded. 'As soon as we disembark I shall make contact with my men. They will furnish me with the latest intelligence and we will proceed from there.'

'And van Leeuwenhoek?'

'Is below,' replied G.o.dley. 'Readying himself.'

Stanislaus nodded. Then he started as he saw something approaching through the black water. He extended one long arm and pointed. 'What's that?'

G.o.dley moved to the rail.

A small rowing boat was slicing through the water towards them. G.o.dley frowned and then, in the flaring light of the ship's torches, he recognised the pa.s.senger.

''Tis Arkwright,' he said to Stanislaus, swinging round.

'The man I spoke of. If he is coming to greet us, there must be something afoot.'

The little boat moved rapidly to the side of the Teazer Teazer and the rower, Arkwright, a thin, nervy creature with spa.r.s.e yellow hair, hastily tied it up before hauling himself up the rope ladder and on to the deck. and the rower, Arkwright, a thin, nervy creature with spa.r.s.e yellow hair, hastily tied it up before hauling himself up the rope ladder and on to the deck.

He ran to G.o.dley's side and bowed deeply. 'Sir, I bring great news.'

'Well?' asked G.o.dley impatiently.

'The King, My Lord, has escaped!'

Stanislaus's eyes widened. 'What?'

'Escaped? How?' cried G.o.dley.

Arkwright was wringing his hands in excited agitation. 'It seems there were others at work for His Majesty's welfare.

They sprung him from Hurst Castle on the Solent. He awaits your presence now.'