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enemies made him out to be, but somehow had the opposite effect. A high complexion; green eyes, slightly pop; short-clipped moustache; leather gaiters and a long tweed jacket, belted and reaching almost to the knees; a fur deer-stalker: all a deliberate self-caricature, an arrogant challenge to jeerers. Completely effective.
    ÊºAfternoon, Askey, afternoon, Moffard—keeping remarkably fit, they tell me.ʺ
    ÊºThasso, thank you, m’lord.ʺ
    ÊºExcellent, excellent. Talk about that later. Now, then . . .ʺ
    The earl turned towards Sonny. They eyed each other as equals. It was easy to imagine that in his time Sonny had faced pharaohs with the same gaze. Without any self-consciousness, the earl held out his hand for Sonny to shake, but instead Sonny stepped onto his wrist, spread his wings wide and with a long, smooth movement closed them either side of the earl’s head and at the same time arched his neck forward until they touched foreheads. After a moment or two he straightened, refolded his wings and returned to the hitching rail. The earl took a pace back, spread his right hand over his heart, bowed his head, then turned to the bench.
    ÊºWell, well, well,ʺ he said. ʺWhen it comes to sheer majesty, they could learn a thing or two from him at Windsor Castle, eh, Askey? You’re right, of course. Have to keep mum about this. Talk about that later. Moffard first. Told that last census fellow you weren’t sure, eh? Could’ve been Waterloo you remembered, not Trafalgar?ʺ
    ÊºBest I could think on, m’lord.ʺ
    ÊºDo for now. Do for now. But you’ll need to start taking the long view, Moffard. Won’t wash twenty years on, will it, leave alone fifty? Think you’re going the whole way? Right back to the cradle?ʺ
    ÊºMaybe so, m’lord. I’d not put it past him. No way he can tell me.ʺ
    ÊºI’ll not be there to see it, more’s the pity. Better start planning for it though. World’s changing, Moffard. Government’s getting its nose into all our lives. Happening more and more. No way we can be sure of keeping you hid, not for a hundred years. Two choices that I can see. One—keep moving on. Live one place for a while, soon as it looks like you’re going to be spotted, move on. Wouldn’t fancy that, eh?ʺ
    ÊºThat I wouldn’t, m’lord. Lived here all my life, I have. Allus thought I’d be dying here.ʺ
    ÊºFeel the same myself. Right. That case, four or five years on you’re going to have to start play-acting you’re getting older. And then you’ll fall ill, take to your bed, and your nephew’ll show up to look after you. . . . Oh, come on, man. If you don’t have one now, you’d better start having one—sheep farming out in New Zealand, maybe, spitting image of you, everyone tells you. And now, when you’re poorly, he takes you on. Anybody comes to the house, he’s the one they see. You’re in your bed upstairs. Maybe Dr. Pastern could pay you the odd visit—think we can let him in on this, Askey . . . ? Yes, Moffard?ʺ
    ÊºBeggin’ your pardon, m’lord, but Sonny’ll see to that. First thing you said when you set eyes on ’im, weren’t it? ‘We’ve got to keep mum about this.’ Same with Mr. Askey ’ere. Same with me, when ’e weren’t nobbut a chick. Almost the first thought come into my ’ead—I wasn’t lettin’ on. Thassow ’e is. None sees ’im as he don’t want, and them as sees ’im don’t talk. That’s right, Sonny, aren’t it?ʺ
    All three turned towards the hitching rail. Sonny gazed back at them with a look of arrogant confidence that in a less impressive creature would have been smug. The earl chortled, unastonished but delighted by a successful turn in the intrigue.
    ÊºCapital!ʺ he said. ʺPastern can sign the death certificate when the old lad officially pops