The Devil's Acre by Matthew Plampin Read Free Book Online

great cause or other – and only content when raising funds for the religious education of the poor, or the dispatching of missionaries to distant cannibal isles. You are most fortunate, as an American, that she did not also take you to task over the dreadful unwholesomeness of slavery.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘I cannot help but suspect, in fact, that she only came here tonight in search of trouble.’
    ‘Yes, well, some women ain’t all maple sugar,’ Sam answered warily. ‘What the devil d’you want?’
    The blond man made no reaction to this hostile tone. ‘My name is Lawrence Street, Colonel, and I am a long-standing admirer of your inventions. I was deeply impressed by the pistols included in the display of the Great Exhibition, and have followed your fortunes closely ever since.’
    Sam’s surtout and hat arrived. He put them on, thanking this Mr Street for his kind remarks, genuinely welcoming the approbation after his mauling by Lady Wardell.
    ‘I wished to say, also, that you must not fret over the loss of your chance with Clarendon and Newcastle,’ Street went on. ‘You must realise that our government, like your own, is rather out of sorts at present. The Earl of Aberdeen, although a fine man by all accounts, is a most unsatisfactory Prime Minister, and he has staffed his cabinet with menas ill-suited to their posts as he is to his. Not, of course, that those two upstairs would be particularly suited to any; but they certainly have no notion whatsoever of the pressures of the international stage, or of the changing nature of modern conflict. Many feel that when a war of any magnitude arrives – and the sense among us is very much that it will, before too long – Great Britain will be found sorely lacking, thanks largely to the glaring inefficacy of our Lords Clarendon and Newcastle.’
    This speech was delivered swiftly and softly, and heard only by Sam; Street had made it inaudible even to the servants standing directly behind them. It had the clear ring of expertise. This was an operator of the smartest variety. Sam regarded his companion anew. Mr Street was about his age, with cold, rather inexpressive eyes and a head of the most astonishing white-blond hair. There was something jerky and puppet-like about him, which his small stature served only to accentuate; he was plainly a political, desky type who’d spent his years within the cramped confines of the city, well away from wood, field and stream. But his calm, calculating face, framed by the full whiskers of an intellectual Englishman, told Sam that Lawrence Street was also someone with whom he could talk seriously – and who might well prove useful.
    They walked together towards the embassy doors. Sam’s mind was occupied now by a vision of a vast marching army, of two or three marching armies in fact, thousands upon thousands of men, each and every one of them wearing a new Colt Navy upon his belt.
    ‘Mr Street, did I hear you say that there is to be war in Europe?’
    Street nodded. ‘It is believed so; in Europe or on her fringes. And Great Britain will not be ready. We need your guns, Colonel, and soon. Yet you have just seen for yourself how lightly our ministers wear their duty – and how easily they are distracted from it.’
    ‘I’ll regain their interest soon enough.’
    They went outside. Sam welcomed the evening’s chill; it felt like fresh freedom after the stifling ordeals of the embassy.He left the surtout unbuttoned as he descended to the pavement of Grosvenor Square.
    Street had stopped at the top of the steps. He was shaking his head. ‘Forgive me, Colonel, but I must say that such a course would be a poor use of your time. There are others of equal standing and influence who have a true interest in your endeavours. They see the potential of your factory and your weapons, and the advantages they offer over anything already produced in this country – over the pistols of Mr Adams, say. They would have you succeed here,