Cheating the Hangman

by Judith Cutler

  ‘We have still failed to identify him, despite enquiries in our more immediate neighbourhood,’ I admitted. ‘But indeed, Mr Longstaff, I cannot think that this is a conversation that should be overheard by Mrs Longstaff, in her present condition at least.’ I glanced at Maria, whose minute nod spoke volumes. Prompted by the older woman, within moments Mrs Longstaff had recalled that her London accoucheur had indeed recommended gentle exercise as well as rest, and soon Maria was tying the bow of her bonnet for her and easing a light shawl across her wilting shoulders.

  ‘A doctor’s wife?’ Longstaff said, watching Maria tuck Mrs Longstaff’s arm within hers and set her in motion along the terrace.

  At a sign from his master, the butler closed the French window and then bowed himself out, leaving us to our conversation.

  ‘Indeed. She and her husband are my dearest friends. She will let your wife come to no harm.’

  ‘But what about him? They say he is an admirable physician, treating Lord Hasbury’s guests with some success. But is he the sort of man to whom I could entrust my wife’s welfare?’

  ‘I would trust him with my life. Indeed, it is on his advice that I am enjoying the balmy air.’ I gave the tersest of explanations. After all, I wanted any information he might be able to give, not to sidetrack him into sympathy for me.

  ‘I cannot believe that a man of the cloth, known for his charitable work, should be so assaulted!’ He took a quick turn about the room. ‘Surely it is obvious that this means your enquiries into the anonymous body have irritated someone, who wants you silenced. Whom have you questioned?’

  ‘My dear sir, whom have my friends and I not questioned?’ But perhaps there was something I should reflect on. They could have attacked – heaven forbid! – Edmund many a time as he rode home alone. Why had I been picked out for such treatment? I asked this not in any sense of self-pity, but my interest was far from academic: if, as the philosophers tell us, every effect has a cause, what had I in particular done to cause this attack? Or was I merely being sucked in by my new acquaintance’s zeal and I had coincidentally been on the same stretch of road as some unpleasant footpads? If there were more attacks in the same area, it did not make their attentions appear quite so particular. Not that I ill-wished any travellers, of course – but I suspect no one would want to be singled out with no explanation.

  ‘One person I would very much like to speak to is Mr Snowdon. I understand that he was a house-guest in this area. He has amazing skill with a pencil,’ I continued, puzzled by my host’s lack of reaction – so strong a negative it almost seemed to be a positive one, ‘and I need his help again.’ I was sure Longstaff knew how I might obtain it here.

  But he was very firm in his denials. ‘Indeed, I know of no one of that name. But we live very privately here, not simply because of my wife’s interesting condition. I am trying to complete a drama – in verse, you know – on the subject of Boadicea and her rebellion against the Romans. My friend Byron has seen fit to make some judicious revisions, and now speaks of the first two cantos with great enthusiasm. Are you a poet, Dr Campion? I am having such trouble rhyming Camulodunum.’

  I smiled. ‘I doubt if Colchester is any easier. But the ladies return.’ And indeed I was feeling far more fatigued than I cared to admit even to myself.

  Our mutual farewells were warm and expansive: Longstaff insisted on scribbling a note to Edmund entreating him to visit with a view to taking on his wife as a patient. Then Maria resumed the ribbons again, taking us not to the rectory but to Langley Park.

  ‘Burns wants to talk to you about the cricket team,’ she said. ‘And indeed we could not ask poor Mrs Trent to feed quite so many medical men. But we will keep town hours, and it may be that you want to withdraw to your bedchamber here for a few minutes’ rest.’

  I did indeed. And fell asleep so quickly that I was hardly aware of the admirable Marsh pulling off my boots.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The news that greeted me as I awoke remarkably refreshed from my doze was that Dan still possessed both legs. According to Marsh, whom Edmund had despatched to help me dress, Captain Keble, now retired from active service following the death of his father and the need to take over the family estates, had brought more than a sharp saw with him; he and his former batman, a bustling little man called Wells, had engaged to try some new fomentations and would stay the night at the rectory to ensure that they were regularly replaced. Binns could therefore return to Toone. Such was their devotion to duty that they were even prepared to endure Mrs Trent’s cooking, Keble averring that the cuisine he’d experienced during his early years in the army had inured him to tough meat and rough wine. At least my cellar would need no apologies.

  When I made my way down to the drawing room, there was no Burns to announce me. In what was effectively my second home, however, I did not wait on ceremony, letting myself in quietly, to find Jem, of whom I seemed to have seen remarkably little during my short illness, and Burns himself in deep discussion. Cricket. So Mrs Hansard had not been telling a kindly untruth. We still lacked a couple of men, Hansard having declared himself too old for the game. Jem was keen to push young Robert’s claims, but Burns insisted he was too young to be blooded in a full eleven. Our host and hostess entered before the matter had been satisfactorily resolved.

  Before long, Toone appeared, and Burns, resuming with aplomb his more usual duties, served us all to sherry. My great desire was to press Jem to reveal the local news he must have gleaned from the schoolchildren. But in line with our unspoken convention I waited until dinner was over and Burns had withdrawn from the dining room.

  As one we looked at my oldest friend, who rewarded us with a smile. ‘If I have neglected you all while Toby was ill,’ he said, ‘it is because I have been talking to my young charges and to their parents. But they hail if not from Moreton St Jude’s itself then from Moreton Episcopi. A lot of folk admit to knowing that there’s trouble in Clavercote, but none speaks openly of it.’

  ‘Is there any way we – you! – can probe further? It would be good to know whom I have offended – and how, of course.’

  ‘I tell you, I’ve not heard of anything precise – they’re not complaining about your doctrine, for instance,’ he added with a dry smile.

  ‘Hardly surprising since so few of them attend Divine Service,’ I said more tartly than I intended. ‘It seems to me that it was my visit to Sarey Tump that has provoked a response I simply do not understand. Surely it is not unusual for a man of the cloth to visit a woman caring for – adopting! – another’s babe? But without Mrs Trent’s admirable sangfroid, I fear that matters would have turned ugly. Truly ugly. Alas, the poor woman had been so busy I have not had a chance to discuss it with her.’

  ‘Not to mention your being otherwise engaged,’ Toone agreed. ‘So is this Clavercote a village of misanthropists? Or are they so inbred they regard any interloper with hostility?’

  ‘There is one way to find out,’ I declared. ‘I will write to tell Boddice and Lawton to summon all the villagers to a meeting at one tomorrow on the village green, where I will address them. I cannot believe that Squire Lawton did not set up a hue and cry once he heard what had happened to me. Men do not spring from nowhere only to disappear God knows where. If I appear before them with my bruises still vivid, perhaps it will touch someone’s conscience.’

  There was a stunned silence.

  At last Jem said, ‘If Edmund thinks you are well enough, I cannot think of a better plan.’

  ‘But the risks!’ Maria cried.

  ‘Fewer risks if you are accompanied by the militia,’ Toone said.

  ‘On the contrary, far more! Those men are ready to riot – what do they have to lose? Death by shooting would be more honourable and much quicker than death by starvation. Some might even see the horrors of transportation to Australia as the chance to start a better life in a new land once their sentence is served.’

  ‘Tobias is right. There must be no provocation,’ Jem sa
id. ‘My only recommendation is that Toby leaves off his clerical bands and isn’t tempted to wear his fancy new coat.’

  ‘Which the carrier has yet to deliver,’ I pointed out. ‘You want me, Jem, to stand as an ordinary human being, not a man of God?’

  ‘I do indeed. And I fear you had best go on your own – with only me to drive you.’

  Maria spoke first. ‘I fear that Jem is right that an additional trio of us might well be a provocation. But I beg you to reconsider. A soft answer might turn away the wrath of an angry man, but an angry mob is like an animal with several heads. You have to persuade each one. And you are very far from well – look how exhausted you were after even the minor exertions of today. Edmund!’ she appealed, in the face of his silence.

  ‘I cannot be stronger in my medical opposition to the scheme – all that blood I took from you! You will be as weak as a kitten! – but I can see its advantages as a means of getting information. Surely the mob would not turn on a man on his own. No, I know not what to say.’ He left the room abruptly.

  ‘Very well. So it is decided. Let us talk of this no more. I will write notes to the wardens, with your permission, Maria, and would ask Burns to ensure their delivery first thing in the morning. That done, Toone, there is nothing I would like better than to hear some music.’

  Two songs were enough to draw my friend back into the room. I could no more have made him happy by giving up what even I could see might be a foolhardy enterprise than I could have given up my vocation to suit my father’s notions.

  Toone and Jem made an extraordinary effort to introduce some light conversation into the charged room, but even with Maria’s efforts and my own the venture was a failure in the face of Edmund’s obvious distress.

  ‘I suppose I must give my blessing to this crazy expedition, Tobias. But I have a question to raise first. It has been agreed that you present yourself as a common man. This is to imply that there is something about your profession that has provoked wrath. Is there anything to suggest that the two curates that the archdeacon despatched suffered similar antagonism?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge. All I heard was that the churchwardens were not impressed by the preaching of either of them. But neither did they argue when I suggested that the curates instituted a form of Sunday school, even though the cost of the food I suggested as an enticement would be paid for by the wardens themselves.’ I paused. ‘It begins to sound as if I am the cause of their resentment.’

  ‘Or just the focus of it?’ Toone put in. ‘How did the real incumbent get on with his obstreperous flock?’

  ‘Who knows? I cannot imagine the archdeacon giving me an undiplomatically straight answer, can you, Mrs Hansard?’ I smiled at her, as she stared into her glass, apparently preoccupied by the bubbles.

  ‘That toad! Indeed I am so glad of the presence of not one but two military men at the rectory tonight.’ She gasped. ‘I fear that was a very undiplomatic observation. Forgive me, my friends. But indeed I cannot warm to the man, right-hand man to the bishop though he be.’

  With a sour laugh, Toone made a slight circular movement with his index finger as if to take us back a step in the conversation. ‘How on earth can a rector, such a vital figure in a small community, simply absent himself?’ Toone demanded.

  Jem laughed. ‘Not all rectors are like Toby, believe me. You wouldn’t notice if some of them flit the coop.’

  ‘What neither the archdeacon nor I could understand is why Coates should eschew safe English spas in favour of one on the Continent,’ I said. ‘But that was what he told the bishop – by letter, I gather, without even the courtesy of a personal request.’

  ‘And no one knows which spa? Not even the bishop?’

  ‘I have not spoken to the bishop personally, of course. The archdeacon has told me all I know – and it seemed all that he knew. And there was no reason for me to be informed. All I was asked to do was take his place for two or three services.’

  ‘Has the archdeacon said anything about trying to summon him back?’

  ‘Nothing. Edmund, you look very pensive.’

  He nodded slowly. ‘Toone, you move in more distinguished circles than I – do you have acquaintances who might frequent fashionable watering places abroad?’

  ‘Of course. But they have the common sense to remain in England until Napoleon is finally defeated.’

  Edmund and I looked each other straight in the eye. I nodded as reluctantly as if he had asked a terrible question – which in a sense he had.

  ‘My father,’ I began, ‘my father has friends and acquaintances in the Diplomatic Corps – from lowly consuls to senior ambassadors. He would ask on your behalf, Edmund.’

  ‘I think he would rather ask on your behalf,’ he said firmly. He added with an impish smile, ‘The sooner your new clothes arrive the better, even if you do not wear them to Clavercote.’

  The following morning, back at the rectory, it seemed that Dan was slightly improved, though still feverish. Keble and Wells would not leave until a crisis had arisen – either of healing or one calling for their skills with knife and saw. They withdrew to a respectful distance when, kneeling beside Dan’s bed, I asked the Almighty for His assistance, but did not join me. Perhaps the contents of my study, which they told me they had established as their headquarters, had more than satisfied their taste for prayer.

  Mrs Trent learnt of my proposed trip to Clavercote with alarm in her eyes but no verbal protest, other than to say that she would prefer me not to take Robert with me. Indeed, she was remarkably phlegmatic, merely asking if I would as usual be dining at Langley Park.

  ‘I should imagine that the Clavercote churchwardens will invite me to share a nuncheon to discuss what was revealed this morning – after all, I have asked them to organise everything. And I cannot imagine I could fail to report back to the Hansards. So I fear the earliest you can look for me is tomorrow, after matins. How would you feel if I were to invite Mr Mead and Mr Tufnell and their wives to join me for breakfast?’

  ‘Give over, Master Tobias, do – it’s neither here nor there what I think and feel.’

  ‘But you are already cooking for an invalid and his doctors, and have all the extra responsibility for Dan’s bedlinen too, since his sheets have to be changed so often.’

  ‘Dan eats like a fly and I’ve taken the liberty of asking the laundrywoman to come here every other day, Sundays excepted, of course.’

  ‘Excellent. Remind me when you come to settle her account: this is something for which you had not budgeted.’

  Feeling strangely as if I was about to start a long journey and wanted to bid my church farewell, I made my way to St Jude’s, to look at each well-loved cranny before spending time in prayer. The striking of the clock came unnaturally loud.

  It was time I asked Robert to bring round the gig.

  Jem insisted on bringing his new dog with him, though I could not feel that Cribb would bring any dignity to the event. We trotted gently through the hedgerows, and kept conversation to the following week’s cricket match with Abbots Maine. We even spoke about the likely origin of the name – perhaps Maine was a corruption of demesne. But I had an untoward heaviness about my heart. When Jem pointed out that I could still cry off I felt as if I were Hamlet talking to Horatio before the fateful fight. I dismissed the analogy instantly, and concentrated on looking ahead to see the churchwardens, who would surely be waiting to greet me.

  They were not. Just a straggling group of villagers, arms folded implacably across their bodies and eyes full of resentment. This did not look like a gathering of people who would exchange information in a free and friendly way. Mentally I revised what I was going to say and how I might better say it. In the end I admitted I was sorely afraid and did what I ought to have done at the start: I implored God to give me wisdom. And strength.

  All would be well, and all manner of things would be well.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  I had expected sullenness, even anger – but I had not
expected to see a rope, quickly joined by another, slung over a branch of the oak tree on the edge of the green. Nor had I predicted that the horse should be seized, and the whole equipage, Jem and me still aboard, would be dragged towards them. Jem clamped his hand over Cribb’s mouth, and glanced at me. It was many years since I’d seen this rock of calm look frightened. He did no more than mirror my own expression.

  Should I whip the horse into action to try to free us that way? The attempt would almost certainly be futile, and an accidental slash across the face of our captors would rightly enrage them.

  Second by second, they inched us closer. Jem’s life depended on me. Somehow I must save him.

  By now we were directly under the tree.

  Somewhere my brain registered that my hands were still unbound, Jem’s too. Jem would not submit to that without a struggle, any more than I would. If only the accident had not left me so weak. I couldn’t have hit the head off a dandelion.

  ‘Leave it to me,’ Jem muttered. ‘Cribb and I can create a bit of a diversion and you can slip away.’

  ‘If you knocked five down, ten more would spring up. And how far would I get? Two paces?’

  ‘Damn it, we can’t just sit here and wait for them all polite and helpful!’

  ‘Of course we can’t. But we do have Someone on our side.’

  ‘You think we can wait for divine intervention?’

  ‘I can’t think of anything else.’ Even if I couldn’t frame a prayer, assuredly he knew my need. If it was His will that I die, then so be it. Not Jem, though. He had always got me out of scrapes. Now I must make a push to save him. Dear Lord, be at my right hand now!