The Chemickal Marriage

should not wait.’
    But Chang subtly shifted his weight so he stood between Cunsher and the door. The man nodded, as if this too was expected, and thrust his hands into the pockets of his coat.
    ‘You do not know me. These enemies are strong – of course.’
    ‘You’re Phelps’s man.’
    Between the thick brim of his hat and the even thicker band of hair below his nose, Cunsher’s face was lined and his eyes were as brown and sad as a deer’s. ‘You are like me, I wonder. We have stories – stories we cannot tell. Your Ministry had business where I lived, a business that in time allowed me to … execute a relocation.’
    ‘And you have served Phelps since? Served the Ministry?’
    ‘Not in its most recent campaign – which has assailed you, and whose part in it my employer most earnestly repents. But otherwise. I was abroad.’
    ‘Macklenburg?’
    ‘Vienna. When in time I came back –’
    ‘Phelps was gone.’
    ‘What is
not
gone? All your nation. One has seen such change elsewhere.’
    ‘Because a crust of parasites is getting scraped off the loaf? Worse could happen.’
    Cunsher caught a tuft of moustache in his teeth and chewed. ‘Parasites, yes. Hate the oppressors, Cardinal Chang – there I am with you. But
fear
the oppressed, especially if they receive a glimpse of freedom. Their strength is, how to say,
untrained
.’
    Cunsher reached into the wooden crate and came up with a small cracked teapot in the shape of an apple.
    ‘I had thought to make tea for the young lady,’ he said glumly. ‘There does not seem now the time.’
    His body low, as if he were discerning the way by smell, Cunsher led them to a rutted cart road, and along it to the railway station at Du Conque.
    As they waited for the train, Miss Temple stood apart under the station eaves, frowning at a faded schedule posting, for all the world the same insufferable girl who had made Chang and Svenson swear an oath on theroof of the Boniface. Chang found himself annoyed by her standing apart. Did she expect him to make a point of walking over to inquire after her health?
    Svenson spoke of the need to search the train for any agents from Raaxfall and Chang grunted his agreement. In the presence of Phelps he could hardly speak freely, though the change in Svenson was clear. The Doctor’s starched manner had been leeched by loss to the brittleness of an old man’s bones. Quite casually, for he was abashed to realize he had not yet done so, Chang asked the date. Phelps informed him it was the 28th.
    Two months since Angelique had died. Chang wondered what would have become of Angelique had she possessed Miss Temple’s privilege – then scoffed at his own sense of injustice. Angelique well born would have tolerated his presence even
less
.
    The train came at last. When the conductor arrived, Miss Temple opened her clutch bag, speaking tartly to Phelps. ‘I assume you have money for yourself and your man. I will pay for the Doctor and Chang.’
    Phelps sputtered and felt in his coat pocket for a wallet of wet bills. Miss Temple took her tickets and stuffed them into the clutch bag with her change.
    ‘I am obliged, my dear –’ began Svenson, but Chang hooked the Doctor’s arm and pulled him out of the compartment.
    ‘Your idea to
search
.’
    They need not have bothered. Five carriages found no one from the Xonck Armaments works. At the far end, Svenson stopped for a cigarette.
    ‘As to our return. You have not been in the city. We would do well to avoid the crowds at Stropping.’
    ‘It can be done.’
    Svenson nodded, inhaling sharply enough for Chang to hear the burning paper. Chang sighed, feeling obliged and resenting it.
    ‘I did not know about Elöise. I am heartily sorry.’
    ‘We failed her.’
    Chang spoke gently. ‘She failed herself as well.’
    ‘Is that not exactly when we depend upon our friends?’
    The silence hung between them, marked by the rhythm of the train.
    ‘I do not
have
friends, as a rule.’
    Svenson shrugged. ‘Nor I. Perhaps in that way we fail ourselves.’
    ‘Doctor, that woman –’
    ‘Rosamonde?’
    ‘The Contessa. I promise you. She
will
pay.’
    ‘That is very much my intention.’ Svenson dropped the butt and ground it with his boot.
    Returning, they met Miss Temple in the corridor, clearly on her way to find them.
    ‘Is anything wrong?’ asked Svenson.
    ‘Nothing at all,’ she said. ‘I mean no disrespect to Mr Phelps and his foreign agent – but – both of you –