Doctor Who_ The Roundheads - Mark Gatiss [99]
They had used the speedy journey from Gravesend to London to compare notes. Ben told the smelly newcomer of what he and the late Captain Winter had discovered. Scrope, in turn, told Ben of his encounters with the Doctor and Jamie.
Added to that was the news that the girl called Polly had now joined them and, though they were prisoners in the Tower, they would be quite safe for the moment.
Their priority now had to be the identity of the mysterious Dutchman and what exactly Stanislaus and Godley’s package meant for them all.
Ben sank low behind a barrel, his hand pressed tightly over his mouth against the smell of his companion.
Taking the bull by the horns, he turned and whispered to Scrope. ‘No offence, mate, but don’t you ever take a bath?’
Scrope cackled merrily. ‘Oh, no, lad. Nasty things, baths.
Injurious to the health, don’t you know?’
His face turned suddenly grave and he held up his hand for silence. ‘There!’ He pointed through the gap in the barrels and Ben could see the high masts and rigging of the Teazer silhouetted against the moon.
‘So,’ smiled Scrope. ‘We are one step ahead of them after all.’
They watched in silence as the ship lowered her anchor into the water and several dim figures descended the rope ladder into the rowing boat.
It took only a few moments for the party to make it to the jetty and Stanislaus, Godley, Arkwright, and van Leeuwenhoek stood for a moment, deep in conversation.
‘I recognise the Pole,’ hissed Scrope to Ben. ‘Who are the others?’
‘I don’t know the little one. But the one in the hat is Godley. The other is the Dutchman.’
Scrope nodded, his old eyes narrowing as he peered through the darkness. Then he pulled himself and Ben back against the wall as the party began to walk towards them.
Arkwright clambered back into the boat but the others moved swiftly along the jetty. Godley carried a lantern and he set it down on top of the barrels, only inches from Ben’s face.
‘Very well. I shall be only a moment.’
For a few seconds, his face was fully illuminated in the glow of the lamp and Ben heard Scrape emit a little gasp.
He turned, thinking the old man might be ill, but Scrope was simply staring ahead, his mouth opening and closing in wonder.
Godley returned and, picking up the lamp, led the way through the narrow buildings towards the street.
Ben jumped to his feet but Scrope grabbed his arm.
‘Come on, mate. We’ve got to get after them,’ said Ben urgently.
‘Wait, wait!’ cried Scrope. ‘Yon fellow. What did you say his name was?’
Ben shrugged. ‘Godley, he said. Richard Godley.’
Scrope shook his head in wonder. ‘You have been travelling in far more illustrious company than you knew, Ben.
That man is not Richard Godley. He is Prince Rupert!’
CHAPTER 11
John Thurloe let a long sigh hiss through his clenched teeth as he strode towards the Doctor.
The little man stood with Jamie and Polly, all three grouped in a tight cluster in the centre of Cromwell’s room.
Guards had been posted at the door in case any of the three time travellers tried to make a break for it. The general himself was absent, busying himself with the preparations for the King’s trial.
‘Doctor, you are being evasive,’ said Thurloe angrily.
‘Am I?’ murmured the Doctor. ‘I’m so sorry. Force of habit.’
Thurloe loomed over him, his long face clouded with suspicion. ‘I know that you and the Scot are not what you claim. You are no more in touch with the other side than I am.’
‘What other side?’ queried Polly. ‘The King, you mean?’
Jamie shook his head. ‘No. He means the spirit world.’
Polly burst out laughing. ‘Oh. I see.’
Thurloe swung round to face her. ‘’Tis no laughing matter, lady. These accomplices of yours claimed to see into the future.’
Polly shrugged. ‘Well, there’s a lot of truth in that.’
Thurloe frowned and returned to his scrutiny of the Doctor. ‘Listen well. I am not taken in by your wizardry, Doctor. But, equally, I do not believe you to be a man of wicked designs.’
‘Oh,’ said the Doctor. ‘I’m so glad.’
He could see the network of ruddy, broken veins that crazed