The ship bobbed at anchor at Deptford. It was a rich ship, a ready ship, paid for in easy gold. In Paris, Abel Darkwater had already bought a magnificent house with a laboratory in the basement. In London, he had bought the land to the east of the Priory in the Spital Field. One day, he would build a house there.
He was wealthy. He was his own master now, no John Dee to call him in the middle of the night with some high-minded philosophy about the Soul. Abel Darkwater had more important things to fashion than his Soul; he wanted to be Lord of the Mysteries of the Universe, and to do that, he had to control time itself. And to control time itself, he needed that strange clock called the Timekeeper.
So while others were busying themselves with gold, he had one thing left to find, and he knew exactly where he would find it.
It was easy. The house of Roger Rover was deserted. The groom was in his pay. Together they made their way through the courtyards and up the stairs to the study.
And – such luck, such destiny! There it was, lying on the table for the taking!
Abel Darkwater took it.
Silver felt the jewelled hand of the Timekeeper jump in her pocket. Without saying anything to Roger Rover or Jack, she leapt from the table and ran back upstairs just in time to crash into Abel Darkwater on his way down.
He pushed her out of the way.
‘HELP!’ shouted Silver. ‘THIEVES!’
The door from the antechamber opened and John Dee and the Abbess came out. The Abbess strode to the window, and in a flash, in an instant, John Dee and Silver saw the Abbess rear into a dark serpent, and slide through the window, down the wall and across the courtyard.
But Abel Darkwater had fled.