Chapter ThirtyPatrick emerged from our tent wearing one of Mr Verne’s top hats. ‘See?’ he said. ‘Completely disguised. The licence soldiers won’t recognise me, even if they’ve seen the posters for our arrest.’
‘Because you’re wearing a different hat?’ Matilda said doubtfully.
‘On the contrary. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed?’
‘What?’ she said. ‘What am I supposed to see?’
He grinned at her and raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s gone.’
‘What’s gone?’ she asked.
‘My beard! They’ll never recognise me now.’
Matilda was struck by an attack of coughing. ‘Er … perhaps we should do a little more with your clothes. In addition to your … sudden … lack of a beard.’
Between the two of us, we dressed Patrick in as British a manner as possible, and unhooked the distinctive silk envelope from our carr
