However, I dared not risk turning around again. First, it would call too much attention to myself and alert whoever it was that I was onto him. Second, Father was watching me again.
When at last the service was nearly over, Grandmother stood up and held out her hand to Father. He took her arm and escorted her up to the coffin. She paused with her hand lingering over the casket, and my heart leaped into my throat. Would she open it?
Her fingers touched the casket, and then she picked up a spray of lilies and laid it over the top. She bent her head as the minister said a final prayer.
My knees went weak. We'd done it! The funeral was over and no one had discovered our secret. I closed my eyes, said one last quick prayer for Mr. Tetley's soul, and wished him peace. When I opened my eyes again, I found Henry smiling at me. I smiled back, nearly giddy with relief.
The congregation rose from their seats and began making their way outside. As I walked the length of the cathedral to the open doors, I paid close attention to the crowd, trying to identify whoever had been staring at me so fiercely.
Once outside, people milled about on the steps, chatting with one another and murmuring kind thoughts about Admiral Sopcoate, who didn't deserve a single one of them. As they all mingled, I continued to search the faces as unobtrusively as possible.
Mother and Father were deep in conversation with Grandmother and someone from the admiralty. Henry had planted himself at the far side of the church steps, taken a tin soldier out of his pocket, and was quietly playing with it. He still looked pale, I thought, as if he were just getting over a long illness.
I'd had no luck identifying the person who'd been staring at me, and I was considering joining Henry on the cathedral steps when I caught a furtive movement out of the corner of my eye.
An old sailor with white hair and beard looked away quickly, as if he didn't want me to know he'd been watching me. Why would he be watching me?
He glanced in my direction again and our eyes met briefly. He had a patch over one eye and there was something almost familiar about him. Although, truthfully, it was very difficult to tell sailors apart. In their uniforms and spit and polish, they all looked confusingly alike unless you knew them. Had he served on the Dreadnought, by chance? Had I met him there?
He turned and began limping away as if hurrying somewhere important.
I decided to follow the sailor to the corner, just to be sure he wasn't up to no good.
I'd taken no more than two steps when a wave of sensation, like a hundred beetles marching along my spine, swept over me. The sensation was so strong that if I'd been at the museum, I'd have immediately conducted a Second Level Test. Could the sailor have a cursed artifact on him?
I glanced at all the unprotected people gathered near the church then quickly hurried to the street corner. I turned onto the side street, but there was no one in sight. No old sailor, no cursed artifact. Just as I began to leave, a bulky shape stepped out of a recess in a wall and said, "Gotcha!"
I started and then stared in puzzlement at the old sailor, who was tucking an amulet back into a box. As soon as he shut the lid, the beetle sensation along my back stopped. He smiled at me through his salty white beard. "I knew that would get your attention."
At my blank look, he added, "Curiosity did kill the cat, you know."
May I just say that it is not a good sign when someone begins a conversation that way?
"What's the matter, don't you recognize me, Theo?"
How did he know my name? His voice was familiar, but I couldn't quite place it. I shook my head. "No, I'm afraid I don't. Have we met—oh!"
The sailor lifted the eye patch and I found myself staring into the face of Admiral Sopcoate. "You!" I breathed, shocked to the very core of my being.
"Me, Theo. In the flesh. Lovely of your grandmother to organize such a fancy memorial service for me. I couldn't have planned a better one myself. A ripping good time, hearing what everyone had to say about me."
I thought of all the naval men just around the corner who'd have raised no end of questions at the admiral's reappearance. I could hardly credit the man's daring. "Is that why you're here? Curiosity?"
"No, not curiosity. That was just an added benefit. I'm afraid I'm here to pay you a little visit."
Oh dear. It was never good news when a Serpent of Chaos wished to pay one a visit. It was then that it occurred to me that he might have the others with him. I glanced behind me.
"I'm quite alone," he said. "Well, me and Mr. Webley here." He patted his pocket.
"Who?" I hadn't met a Serpent of Chaos named Webley.
"Webley," he repeated, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a pistol. Slowly he raised it so it was pointing at my chest.
My insides felt like runny custard. "What do you want?" I asked, trying to sound as if having a gun pointed at me were no big thing.
"You mean, other than revenge?"
I tried to swallow but found my mouth was too dry.
"Luckily for you, there is something we want more than revenge, Theo. Something we want very badly. Something you can give to us and thus assure you'll live to be twelve."
"What's that?" I croaked.
He leaned forward. "The Emerald Tablet."
I blinked in surprise. Honestly! Had someone taken out an advertisement in the Times? How did everyone know we had the wretched thing? I opened my mouth to protest that I didn't have it, but he waved the gun at me. "I'm fairly sure one of your lovely governesses must have warned against lying." He laughed, an ugly sound. How had I ever thought he was jolly?
"W-why do you want it? It just talks about alchemy. Surely the Serpents of Chaos don't believe they can turn lead into gold," I scoffed.
"Or maybe you're not as smart as you think you are. Maybe it has powers and properties that the great, meddlesome Theodosia doesn't know about."
"What does it do then?"
"Oh, I'm afraid that is on a need-to-know basis, my dear. And quite frankly, you have no need to know." He took a step closer. "What you do need to know is that we will do anything—anything—to get our hands on it. Do you understand?"
I nodded.
"Very well. Bring the tablet to Cleopatra's Needle on Friday afternoon. Let's say around five o'clock, shall we? During your parents' exhibit opening? I think that should provide a nice diversion and allow you to slip away unnoticed, don't you?" He brought the pistol up higher, so that it was pointed directly at my face. "Be there. If you fail to deliver it, my dear, not only will your life be in danger, but that of your grandmother as well. How do you think she will take to the fact that she invited half the admiralty to the funeral of a traitor?" He laughed again, and my skin fairly curdled off my bones.
"Theo? Theo, where've you gotten to?" Mother's voice came from just around the corner. She must have come looking for me. And as much as I wanted her to find me, I did not want her to find Admiral Sopcoate's pistol.
Sopcoate took a step back and waved the gun in Mother's direction. "Say nothing to anyone. Be there, or you and your grandmother will be food for the fishes at the bottom of the Thames."
And with that he turned and ran down the street. Fighting back a sob of relief, I hurried toward the sound of Mum's voice.
"There you are, dear. Come along. It's time to go to the funeral repast at your Grandmother's—are you feeling all right? You look rather pale." She put out a hand and felt my forehead, which I knew to be clammy and damp with fear.