‘On the north side,’ observed Sholto. ‘It should not be difficult to gain access there. I took the trouble to have a preliminary look at the Crystal Palace when I accosted Lord Holcroft in Hyde Park. It is a vast cathedral of glass that looks like nothing so much as a giant conservatory. But, then, what else should one expect of a man like Joseph Paxton who is a landscape gardener?’
‘As far as I am concerned, Thomas, his notoriety lies elsewhere.’
‘Yes, Humphrey. He is a director of the Midland Railway.’
‘Had he not been,’ said Gilzean scornfully, ‘he might never have been employed to design that monstrous edifice. I am told, on good authority, that Joseph Paxton came down to the House of Commons last year for a meeting with Mr John Ellis, Member of Parliament and chairman of the Midland Railway, a ghastly individual with whom I’ve crossed swords more than once in the Chamber.’
‘Yes, Humphrey. I recall how you opposed his Railway Bill.’
‘It was a matter of honour. To return to Paxton,’ he said. ‘When our landscape gardener discovered how poor the acoustics were in the House of Commons, he decried the architect, Mr Barry. He then went on to say that those designing the hall for the Great Exhibition would also botch the job — even though he had not seen their plans.’
‘Mr Paxton is an arrogant man, by the sound of it.’
‘Arrogant?’ said Gilzean, scornfully. ‘The fellow has a conceit to rival Narcissus. At a meeting of the board of his railway company, he had the gall to sketch his idea for the building on a piece of blotting paper. That, Thomas, is how this Crystal Palace came into being.’
‘On a piece of blotting paper?’
‘The design was shown to Ellis, who passed it on to someone in authority and, the next thing you know, Paxton is invited to submit a plan and an estimate of its cost. To cap it all,’ said Gilzean through gritted teeth, ‘he is given an audience with Prince Albert himself. His Royal Highness was not the only one to approve of the design. Paxton managed to win the support of no less a personage than Robert Stephenson.’ He arched an imperious eyebrow. ‘The two of them met — appropriately enough — during a train journey to London.’
‘The railway has a lot to answer for, Humphrey.’
‘More than you know,’ returned the other. ‘In the early days, when we were doing our best to oppose the scheme, it looked as if the Great Exhibition might not even take place. It was dogged by all sorts of financial problems. Then in steps Mr Peto, the railway contractor, and offers to act as guarantor for the building by putting down £50,000. Once he had led the way,’ said Gilzean, ‘others quickly followed. Mr Peto also put his weight behind the choice of Paxton as the architect.’
‘At every stage,’ noted Sholto, ‘crucial decisions have been made by those connected with the railways. You can see how they stand to reap the benefit. When the Exhibition opens, excursion trains will run from all over the country. Railway companies will make immense profits.’
‘Not if I can help it, Thomas.’
‘The men are in readiness.’
‘They had better not repeat their failure at the Kilsby Tunnel.’
‘After what you said to them, Humphrey, they would not dare. They are still shaking. You put the fear of God into them.’
‘They deserved it.’
‘I agree,’ said Sholto. ‘Have you chosen the day yet?’
‘Thursday next.’
‘I’ll give them their orders.’
‘No, Thomas,’ said Gilzean, folding up the floor plan, ‘I’ll do that myself. I intend to be at my town house in London this week. I want to hear those locomotives being blown apart.’
‘They’ll take a large part of the Crystal Palace with them. That glass is very fragile. It will shatter into millions of shards.’ Sholto laughed harshly. ‘A pity that it will happen in darkness — it should be a wondrous sight. Farewell to the Great Exhibition!’
‘Farewell to the Lord of the Isles and all those other locomotives,’ said Gilzean, bitterly. I’ll never forgive the railways for what they did to me. My ambition is to act as a scourge to the whole damnable industry.’
The meeting was not accidental. As she came out of the shop, Madeleine Andrews was confronted by Gideon Little, who pretended that he was about to go in. Since he lived half a mile away, and had several shops in the vicinity of his house, there was no need for him to be in Camden at all. After greeting Madeleine, he invented an excuse.
‘I thought of calling on your father again,’ he said, diffidently.
‘He is asleep, Gideon. It is not a good time to visit.’
‘Then I’ll come another time.’
‘Father is always pleased to see you.’
‘What about you, Madeleine?’
‘I, too, am pleased,’ she said, briskly. ‘I believe that any friend of Father’s is welcome at our house, especially if he is a railwayman.’
‘I am not talking about Caleb,’ he said, quietly.
‘I know.’
‘Then why do you not answer my question?’
There was a long and uncomfortable pause. When she walked to the end of the street to buy some provisions, Madeleine had not expected to be cornered by a man whose devotion to her had reached almost embarrassing proportions. She had tried, in the past, to discourage him as gently as she could but Gideon Little had a keen ally in her father and a quiet tenacity that drove him on past all her of rebuffs. Madeleine had the uneasy feeling that he had been lurking outside the house in case she came out.
‘Why are you not at work?’ she asked.
‘I was on the early shift today.’
‘Then you must be very tired.’
‘Not when I have a chance to see you, Madeleine.’ He offered a hand. ‘Let me carry your bag for you.’
‘No, thank you. I can manage.’
He was hurt. ‘Will you not even let me do that?’
‘I have to go, Gideon.’
‘No,’ he said, stepping sideways to block her path, ‘you have walked away from me once too often, Madeleine, and it has to stop. I think it’s time you gave me an answer.’
‘You know the answer,’ she said, seeing the mingled hope and determination in his eyes. ‘Do I really have to put it in words?’
‘Yes.’
‘Gideon — ‘
‘At the very least, I deserve that. It’s been two years now,’ he told her. ‘Two years of waiting, wanting, making plans for the two of us.’
‘They were your plans — not ours.’
‘Will you not even listen to what they are?’