Ellis Peters - George Felse 13 - Rainbow's End Read Online Free PDF Page A

reclaim Bunty, shows every sign of being very thick on the ground indeed. A walking take-over bid for Middlehope, where he seemed to think there was a vacancy for a squire, if not a lord of the manor. He couldn’t be expected to know in advance that ‘squire’ was a dirty word in these tribal regions. But very, very soon someone would have to start instructing him.
     
    They foregathered in the saloon bar of the ‘Gun Dog’ afterwards, for one social drink together before they scattered for home: George and Bunty, Evan Joyce, Sam and Toby Malcolm (Jenny having gone straight home to relieve Sylvia Thomas of her watch), Miss de la Pole, and Willie the Twig, who came late and was unusually thoughtful and quiet. They talked about the weather, and the harvest prospects, and the forthcoming Flower and Vegetable Show, and the sad fact that the ‘Gun Dog’ was not a home-brewed house, like the ‘Sitting Duck’ at Mottisham. But never a word about Rainbow. Not until Miss de la Pole drained her glass and rose to set a good example, drawing her black shawl round her shoulders.
    ‘He won’t do, you know,’ she said with inexorable gentleness; and having pronounced her oracle, as gently and decidedly withdrew, leaving them room either for comment or for silence.
    As it turned out, no one had anything to object, or to add.

----
CHAPTER TWO
    « ^ »
    Sergeant Jack Moon lived one short remove from the village of Abbot’s Bale, down the valley, and had been the law in those parts for years, evading transfer and passing up promotion with the single-minded assurance of one who has found his métier for life. In Middlehope law had to adapt itself to special conditions, and walk hand in hand with custom, which provided the main system by which behaviour was regulated. One assault from an intruder, and the whole valley would clam up and present a united front of impenetrable ignorance, solid as a Roman shield-wall, in defence of its own people and its immemorial sanctity.
    Moon was a large, calm, quiet man with a poker face, and hands as broad as spades, and could look phlegmatic, and even stupid, at will, but was neither. And there was nobody better qualified to dissect the situation in Middlehope, a month or so after Rainbow’s house-warming. He and George had both been in court during the morning, and were snatching a quiet lunch together in Comerbourne before returning to the rest of the work-load, which at the beginning of October was relatively light.
    ‘Well, how are things in your barony?’ asked George. ‘And how did the harvest supper go off?’
    ‘You’re informed that far, are you?’ said Moon thoughtfully. ‘What would you expect? The vicar’d accepted the offer of the chap’s house, folks couldn’t stay away without making the vicar miserable, so the turnout was much the same as usual. Down a bit, though, and the Rev. couldn’t help noticing, and anyhow, by then I doubt if he was much surprised. He does fall over himself to think the best of everybody, but he can learn. Too late, of course. The man’s got a strangle-hold on the choir now, it won’t be easy to get it off him again. The professor’s taken it philosophically, but it’s a blow, all the same. And the grounds are offered again for the hospital fête, and if you ask me they’re already arranging all the show pieces for sale, sending out invitations to customers all over the Midlands.’
    ‘To be fair,’ George pointed out, ‘the hospital may benefit by boosted takings, too.’
    ‘It
may
! He
will
! He hasn’t ploughed all that money into the place without expecting a handsome profit. He’s talking of opening the gardens to the public for charity next summer. There’ll be an invisible price-tag on most of those lead sirens of his, and quite a turnover in garden stoneware.’
    ‘Oh, so he’s talking in terms of next year now. Digging in, Jack! What’s the valley going to do about it? They usually manage to weed out the unwanted pretty