Three Treasures

by Jack Elwin

CHAPTER 6 CONFESSION

  I HAD A QUICK meal with Agnes, then went to St Peter’s church, and sat in a pew near the door. No one else was there, and I was rather glad of a few moments to sit in the quietness of that fine old place of prayer. I thought rather sadly of the many stirring sermons of Mr White’s that I had heard there since I was a child. What was he now doing in London? Did he ever think of his shepherdless flock in Dorchester?

  I had wondered whether with the coming of the Cavaliers the mysterious ‘Horney’ and his friends in Belial’s Band would show themselves. But so far I had heard and seen nothing more of them. Perhaps, I thought, they were young gallants, landowners’ sons from outside the town, whose main activites lay elsewhere.

  Now that most of the soldiers had left our people seemed to have settled back into their old ways, and the fact that the Royalists were in control did not seem to make much difference. We went to church on the Lord’s Day, we met in market or alehouse. We did not shun our neighbours because they belonged to a different party, for we all lived close together in the town. And now our Deputy Governor, Mr William Churchill, was a Royalist who had been a Parliamentarian. If he could change sides how long could a plain citizen like me hold out? I felt thoroughly confused, and was beginning to think that perhaps loyalty to one’s friends and family were more important than party.

  I began to glance around the building, and my eyes rested on the rough grey figure of a crusader carved in stone, one of two in the church, his legs crossed and a great bucket helmet on his head. Then I looked across to the Williams aisle, where the fine monument to Sir John Williams of Herringstone was erected some twenty years ago. He and his wife are shown kneeling there, one each side of a great stone chest with high pyramidical top, and an ornate arch above it decorated with heraldic shields. What would he have made of the present wars? He would have had no doubts which party to support: he would have fought for the King.

  Suddenly I heard the rattle of the latch and the door opening, and turned to see two cloaked figures coming in. They shut the door and paused, looking round the church to see where I was. I stood up and they came towards me, and as they drew near they pushed back their hoods enough for me to see that they were indeed Mrs Dashwood and her old maidservant.

  ‘You have done well to come,’ I said. ‘I expect you remember me, Mistress Dashwood—Micah Judd, the apothecary who attended you when you were so upset over the loss of your jewels.’

  ‘And treated you roughly, ma’am,’ added the maid, ‘not at all like a gentleman.’

  ‘Be quiet Martha,’ said Mrs Dashwood, stretching out her hand to touch my arm. ‘Oh Mr Judd, you will think me a dreadful hypocrite. But indeed I was truly upset about many things—not about the jewels ’tis true, but about my son and about what my husband would say and do. I was protecting myself from his anger, Mr Judd. Oh sir, you have no idea how terrible his anger can be, nor what I have suffered.’

  This was largely what I had expected her to say. I thought she would probably make up some excuse for selling the jewels and then try to show how hardly she had been treated, and appeal to my kindness to be merciful to her. I led them over to the far side of the church to a quiet corner, where even if someone else came in we would not be overheard, and we sat quite concealed in a high pew.

  ‘So,’ I said, ‘without your husband’s knowledge or consent you have been trying to sell your jewels, his jewels, pretending they have been stolen. Why?’

  ‘Sir,’ she replied, ‘I have a son, Nicholas, as I think you know. I have had six children, but five are buried in the churchyard here and he is all I have now. He is not a bad young man, Mr Judd, but he has been foolish and got into bad company. You are young, sir, and can understand, I am sure. He has been extravagant, and has run up debts, as you know young men so often will, what with gambling and going out with their friends. His father has paid his debts more than once, but last time made such a row about it that I feared he would cut Nicholas from his will. He made it all too clear that he was not going to rescue Nicholas again. My poor boy tried so hard to be good, and keep within his allowance, but his friends were not helpful—I think they mocked him, and encouraged him to gamble—and he has got into debt again. And I fear for him, Mr Judd, I do indeed, because these so-called friends of his seem to have some hold upon him more even than the debts. He is frightened of what they may do to him, I think. I sold some of my jewels to stave off his creditors, and he—we—hoped his marriage would make all right. But that has fallen through, with Mr Whittle having lost his money.’

  ‘But,’ I objected, ‘even if Mr Whittle hadn’t lost the dowry money Nicholas wouldn’t have got his hands on it for several weeks or even months.’

  ‘He could have borrowed on the prospect of it, or so I understood.’

  ‘Did Nicholas tell you about Mr Whittle’s loss?’

  ‘Yes, the same day the soldiers left. He came back before his father to see if he could hurry arrangements for the marriage. But then he came to me and said, “It’s all off, mother. Mr Whittle has lost his money and can’t pay a dowry, so I can’t marry his daughter.” He was desperate to know what to do, and I promised him I would find him some immediate money somehow. I had hoped the earlier losses from my jewel box would not be noticed, but now I would have to sell all I had left—and the only thing to do, I thought, was to pretend they had been stolen. The soldiers ransacking houses in the town seemed my opportunity.’

  ‘But you only thought of that after the soldiers had left?’

  ‘’Tis true, for after what Nicholas had told me I had to think very quickly. I sent him out with the servants. There were only three besides Martha, for my husband had taken the others to help move his stuff. Then I got Martha to break the pantry window to make it look as if someone had climbed in that way.’

  ‘But when they came back didn’t the servants notice that it had been done while they were out?’

  ‘They don’t often go into that little pantry. They couldn’t swear that the window hadn’t been broken earlier. And then Martha showed them signs of mud on the stairs, and I pretended to discover my jewels were missing and began to make a fuss. They all assumed it had been done earlier by the soldiers—even Nicholas thought that.’

  ‘So you and Martha are the only ones involved?’

  ‘Martha has been a loyal friend. She had been selling some of the jewels for me earlier, but now she said that she could not sell them all at once, for that might arouse suspicion. So she divided them into three or four lots to sell. I was foolish, I know, for I didn’t think of the jewels being found in the town and recognised.’

  I turned to Martha.

  ‘Did Mr Faire, the man you sold them to, know they were stolen? Was he in this with you?’

  ‘Oh no sir,’ she said, ‘he asked where I had got them from, and I told him they were my own. I pretended to be a lady, a widow who had come down in the world because of the wars, and who needed the money to live on. I appealed to him to help me.’

  ‘He is likely to suffer loss because of his kindness,’ I said, and turned back to Mrs Dashwood. ‘And you didn’t think, I suppose, that you might get an innocent trader into trouble.’

  ‘Oh no,’ she said, ‘has he been suspected of theft?’

  ‘He might well have been,’ I said, ‘and if not that, he is likely to lose what he has already paid, unless you can pay him back.’

  ‘Alas, no,’ she said, ‘all Martha brought back I gave to Nicholas, and he has paid it to his creditors.’

  So you suppose, I thought. As like as not he has gambled it away.

  ‘Well, you have got yourself into a fix,’ I said. ‘What is to be done now?’

  ‘Please don’t tell my husband, he would never forgive me, and I could not bear his anger! He would be cruel to Nicholas too, and send Martha away, I expect.’

  ‘Then can you tell me what is to be done? The jewels ought be returned to your husband, for they are lawfully his property; but Denis Faire, the man who
bought them, must not be the loser. Can you not throw yourself on your husband’s mercy, and confess all?’

  Martha made an exclamation, and her mistress buried her face in her hands and wept.

  ‘Oh sir,’ she sobbed, ‘you don’t know my husband, or you would not suggest such a thing. He has made my life a misery, and I have often wished I could die. And as for the jewels being his property, most of them were mine before I married, and the rest were bought with my money—the money I brought him as a dowry.

  ‘Let me tell you, sir, some of what I have suffered. I was a carefree girl, loving to dance and ride. My grandfather made a fortune in London in the time of Queen Bess, and I grew up on my father’s estate in Wiltshire. I could have made a good and happy marriage, but one fatal day Mr Dashwood came to our house. He had some business with my father, and he seemed struck by my beauty. (Yes, I was considered a beauty in those days!)

  ‘He came again more than once, making up reasons to visit to my father, but I understood that he was really wanting to see me. I was flattered, and he was handsome and seemed to be in love with me. My father too thought it would be a good match, for the Dashwoods are, as you know, a leading family in these parts, and our money came from trade. Some of the older families in Wiltshire looked down on us for that, though heaven knows, their wealth probably came from trade originally.

  ‘At all events, a marriage was arranged, and I thought I would be happy. But as soon as it had taken place, and Mr Dashwood had brought me to his home, how different it was. I found that he was much poorer than we had been led to believe, and was relying on my dowry to get him out of his difficulties. That would not have been so bad if he had been kind. But his manner to me changed, and I realised that he had only married me for my money.’

  ‘But madam,’ I said, ‘isn’t that precisely what you were trying to arrange for your son? How could you do such a thing, and try to bring the same fate on poor Elizabeth Whittle?’

  ‘My son is very different from his father. He may be careless, but he is not cruel or unkind.’

  ‘Yet he dropped her without a thought for her feelings the moment he found she had no dowry.’

  ‘But he is desperate for money. Believe me, Mr Judd, he would not have treated her with the cold cruelty I have had to endure all these years from his father. Let me tell you a little more of what I have had to suffer.’

  It seemed useless to try to get her to see how her son had tried to repeat his father’s way of marrying, so I said, ‘Go on.’

  ‘Those jewels I brought with me as a young bride were very precious to me, but I have sacrificed them for Nicholas’s sake. As for my husband, he has hardly given me anything in all the years we’ve been married. He would not let me keep in touch with my friends in Wiltshire, and even tried to stop me seeing my parents. After I had my first baby I was very ill, and then the babe, my little Margaret, whom I had named after my mother, sickened and died. I was terribly upset, and could not bear to meet anyone. But Stephen forced himself upon me and I was soon with child again. That was a boy, born dead. Then came another girl, whom I insisted on being called Margaret also, for I wanted mother to be remembered. But she too was a sickly child and died soon after her second birthday. Meanwhile I had had Nicholas, who was, thank God, a robust little boy and has always enjoyed the best of health. I have had two more children, but neither has survived, and at the last I had a miscarriage which was brought on by my husband’s anger.

  ‘Oh Mr Judd, if you did but know how angry he can be. It was not so bad when he was younger, and had my money to spend; but as he has got older—or we both have—his temper has become worse, and now it frightens me. See —’ She pulled up her sleeve and showed me bruises, black and blue, all up her arm ‘— this is what he did to me just before he left last week. I had been pleading with him not to leave me alone in the house, with the soldiers coming, and heaven knows what dangers, and he called me a fool and beat me. I could show you more, but it would be to my shame. It was like the time some years ago when he struck me and I miscarried.

  ‘Oh please listen to me, sir. I know I have done wrong, and before God I will take the blame. But please don’t tell my husband or turn him more against Nicholas. Please do help me.’

  Although I had thought she would plead her husband’s hardness as an excuse, her distress and the story of her sufferings were greater than I had expected.

  ‘I am wondering whether there is any way in which all this may be cleared up without telling your husband all about it,’ I said. ‘As I told you, Denis Faire ought not to be the loser, and yet the jewels ought be returned. Let me think.’ I stood up and walked as far as the Williams monument, and gazed at the kneeling Sir John for a moment. Then I turned and came back to where the two women sat. I noticed that Martha was holding her mistress’s hand and gently stroking it.

  ‘Madam,’ I said, ‘it seems to me that there are three possible courses to take. If I were prudent and sensible I would have no more to do with this affair. I would hand the jewellery Martha was trying to sell today back to you to dispose of if you can, and leave Mr Faire to sell what he has already bought and chance his being caught with stolen property; and I would wash my hands of it all and say nothing. Or—and this is the proper and moral course for me to take—I could go to your husband —’

  ‘Oh please, no!’ Mrs Dashwood exclaimed.

  ‘— and tell him the whole story, and let him deal with you and Martha, and (I hope) compensate Mr Faire for the loss he would otherwise bear. Or, I have thought of a scheme, whether it is honest I doubt, but maybe your husband’s behaviour justifies it. So, I could go to your husband —’

  ‘Oh no!’ she cried again.

  ‘Wait, madam, listen to what I am proposing. I could go to your husband and tell him I have found someone in touch with the thieves—which will be true enough—and that I may be able to negotiate the recovery of the jewels for a fee, if he is willing. He will, I hope, be prepared to pay an amount which will cover Mr Faire’s loss. It would not be anything like the full value of the jewels, but I can say that the thieves will be glad to dispose of them for whatever they can get. As for your Nicholas, he will have to be content with what you have already given him, and will have to learn to take responsibility for his own life and deal himself with the consequences of his actions. I am not sure why I am prepared to do this for you, but your story has touched me, and I am sorry for you.’

  ‘Oh Mr Judd,’ she said, grasping my hand, ‘I will be eternally grateful to you if you will do this for us, and save us from this dreadful trouble.’

  ‘I shall be putting myself in the wrong,’ I said, ‘and if Mr Dashwood were ever to find out that I have joined with you in deceiving him I should be in great trouble.’

  ‘We will never tell anyone,’ she promised.

  ‘If you do I will spread abroad how you robbed him and how I caught you, and you and he will both be the laughing-stock of Dorset. But it must be kept secret. Will Martha here keep it quiet too, and not let drop the slightest hint even to her fellow-servants?’

  ‘You will not speak of this to a soul, will you Martha?’ she said turning to her maid.

  ‘You know I won’t, ma’am,’ said Martha, ‘I wouldn’t let anyone know for the world.’

  ‘Very well,’ I said,’ I will wait for a day or two and then I will approach your husband.’

  ‘But you have the jewellery now,’ said Mrs Dashwood. ‘How can I know that you will return it as you say?’

  ‘You will have to trust me. I’ve played fair with you so far, and given my word. I will do as I have said.’

  We stood up and I took her hand and bowed. Then she turned and left the church followed by her maid, and after waiting a few minutes I too went out.

  I walked down to Denis Faire’s house, turning over in my mind how much I should tell him.

  ‘Denis,’ I said when he had let me in, ‘I’ll take charge of all that jewellery for the moment. It is a very strange affair, and in
a sense the jewels were not stolen. But they must be returned. I can’t explain to you all the details, as it is a twisted business involving a woman’s honour. But I hope I shall be able to make good what you have already paid out, provided you do not tell anyone about this matter. If it once became known about the town very serious trouble would come to several people. I’m sorry to be so secretive, but the trouble is that the secret is not mine to share. But if you are willing to go along with this, and keep it strictly between ourselves, I should be able to pay you in a week or two. What do you say?’

  ‘All right,’ he said. ‘I can keep it quiet. Anyway I’m not eager to spread around how I was taken in by that old woman. But what about her? Is she not a thief?’

  ‘She is being dealt with quietly, and her mistress does not want a fuss made, which is one reason we must keep it strictly to ourselves.’

  ‘Oh ho!’ he said. ‘I think I see what Mrs Dashwood has been doing—selling her jewels without telling her husband.’

  ‘You’re right, Denis, but you don’t know the full story, and I’m not at liberty to tell you. We must keep this whole affair quiet and not tell a soul, and then all may yet turn out well. If you breathe a word about it to anyone I won’t be able to get any money for you.’

  He promised faithfully not to tell anyone and handed over the remaining jewels.

  ‘I do hope you’ll manage to settle this without there being a big row,’ he said. ‘The thing that worries me most is—I can tell you, Micah, because I know you won’t spread it around—but the fact is I spoke to Elizabeth after church when her father was delayed inside, and she didn’t brushed me aside. I think if I could get Mr Whittle to think better of me she really would consider me. But I’m afraid if there’s some scandal about these stolen things it will make that so much harder.’

  ‘I do believe that I’ll be able to arrange things so that all will be well, Denis, which is why it’s so important to keep what we know secret.’

  So I left, thinking with some surprise how I was being trusted quite remarkably by so many people. I was not too happy about what I had agreed with Mrs Dashwood, for though I thought, if her account of her husband’s greed and cruelties were only half true, he deserved far more punishment than he would receive, should any rumour of the affair became public I would be in a very difficult, not to say dangerous, position.

  ‘Here am I,’ I thought, ‘brought up under Mr White’s ministry to be God-fearing, open and honest in all my dealings, but now preparing to deceive a leading citizen of Dorchester, albeit from good motives and in a good cause. Whatever am I coming to?’

  However, as soon as I got home I took the jewels I had earlier hidden under the flagstone and wrapped them in a piece of sacking, together with the ones Denis had just entrusted to me, and hid them out of sight on top of a beam in the stable hut in my yard. I did not want to leave them with my own treasures, for it struck me that if anything happened to me, and Agnes went to find our own hoard, she would not know what to do with them, and I did not want her to be burdened with the Dashwoods’ affairs. I was also determined to put them out of my own mind for the moment.

  That evening I called on the tranter, or carrier as you may call him, Will Horder, who I knew went to Weymouth on Tuesdays, and arranged to go with him next morning.

  Later over supper I told Agnes where I was going, and told her not to worry if I was not home until the day after, as I doubted if I could finish my enquiries in one day. As I had expected, she was anxious when she heard I was going to Weymouth.

  ‘Aren’t the soldiers all about there still,’ she said. ‘Do be careful, Micah. What would I do if you were killed?’

  ‘Don’t worry, my sweet,’ I said, ‘they’re not fighting there. The latest news in the town is that Melcombe and Weymouth have both surrendered to Prince Maurice without a shot being fired. He’s even taken Sandsfoot Castle overlooking the bay, I believe. The only Roundheads still holding out are in Portland Castle, but that’s far away the other side of the water.’

  I gave her some instructions for managing the shop while I was away, and did my best to reassure her. In truth, if I had known the dangers I would face I might well have decided not to go.