The Magician's Sons

Chapter 60

Bob stared out of the window. The dark world blurred past him as the carriage went on. By the light of streetlamps, he saw the city for only a second at a time. Those fleeting glimpses were just like the snatches of memories running through his mind.

On top of those plaguing thoughts, his mind was torn between worrying over Gibbs, Copernicus, and the other boys he had left in his shop. It wasn't the first time he had left the lads alone for a day. And, despite the brashness of the boy's nature, Porgie had been growing more responsible with time. After a few minutes' thought, he comforted his mind that they would be alright until he returned. As for Gibbs, the boy had been battered, but his wounds weren't past Bob's ability to treat. In time, the boy was sure to recover.

While they travelled on, Reuben sat in deep reflection. His own memories were running through his mind, and his own questions were burning inside of him. But what was he supposed to say? How could he break the deep silence which had fallen in the carriage?

Passing another lamppost, the flash of light it caused illuminated Bob's face, and the notable scar on his brow caught Reuben's eye. "You were injured once, sir?" he asked. "I couldn't help noticing your scar."

Another flashing scene played across Bob's memory. He recalled the sound of water, taking a gasp of salty air, choking on blood as he floundered in the ocean. He had been clinging to somebody. His head had been spinning, but he had managed to grab onto a floating object. Then the world had gone dark.

"I was a young man then," Bob replied quietly. "It's all a muddled blur. But..." He hung his head in his hands and drew in a shaky breath. "But it's coming clearer. I can almost remember it!"

"What do you remember?" the detective urged kindly. "However small it might be, tell me what it is. Were you on a ship?"

"Blimey, guv! You act as if ya knew all about it!" the man faltered. His speech wavered between the street slang he had learned as a child and the clearer tones he had practiced a long time ago. "Yes, I was on a ship. I was a sailor!" he answered in breathless excitement. "I must have fallen overboard. No. No, I jumped overboard! I dunno why. I can't remember. But I knew I had to do it! An' I was holdin' onto someone..."

"Was it Lieutenant Webb?"

Bob grew rigid at the name. "Yes," he breathed. The memory came clearer and clearer. "I saw fire flashing' on the waves. I 'eard an explosion. I was tryin' to keep him an' meself afloat, an' I grabbed a big plank o' wood. But then...I dunno! I seem to remember pain an' blood. An' then it all went dark."

Reuben listened intently as Bob began to tell his story. As the man's memories fell into place, they could both picture what had happened. Whether Bob had been hit by a piece of flying debris or whether Anthony had struck him in hopes of freeing himself, it was impossible to tell. Bob had regained consciousness among a heap of rubble on the shore of Algeria. His waking eyes had seen a perfect stranger stooping over him. Not realizing that it had been the murderous lieutenant whom he had imprisoned days before, he had feared that he was being robbed.

"Who are you?" he had asked feebly.

Anthony had given a start. A second earlier, he had been certain that his captain was dead. He had listened for a heartbeat and had watched for a breath, but perhaps the rushing sound of the waves had kept him from detecting either.

"Who am I?" the criminal had repeated in shock. "Don't you know?"

"Can't say as I do," the captain had moaned. "Where am I?"