The Boy-Bishop's Glovemaker Read Online Free PDF Page A

but Luke was unwilling to go without attempting to find his enemy.
    There was a noise, a creaking as a door slowly opened, and Luke grinned with the quick satisfaction of the hunter. His quarry was at hand! He crouched, taking up a handful of thick, glutinous mud, and readied himself. There was a crack as a door was thrust wide, the leather hinges complaining, and then Luke swiftly dropped his weapon.
    It wasn’t Henry but Jolinde Bolle, the Secondary, who came into the light with a leather-wrapped parcel which he thrust under his shirt before, blinking in the sun, he made off towards his chamber.
    As Ralph walked through the gate and into the High Street, he was followed. All along the High Street and left along the Correstrete beneath the castle to his own door.
    Glovers never earned much money, but Ralph was comfortably off as a result of his mercantile ventures. Not that he had need of money. His wants were few and he was not an acquisitive man. The only things he craved he could
not
buy: his wife and child. Both were dead. Tragically, they had died in the same accident when a cart overturned on them, but Ralph consoled himself with his faith, content in the knowledge that he would see them again in Heaven, God willing.
    His house was one of the smaller premises, but it was adequate for him and his apprentice. There were two doors to the street; the one on the right opened straight into his shop, while the lefthand one gave onto a passage which bypassed his place of business and led behind to his little hall. Inside the hall, a ladder propped against a wall led up to the chamber above where Ralph and his apprentice slept while the scullery and kitchen lay at the rear and had their own back door to the garden.
    Ralph opened the door on the left – he rarely locked his house door – walked down the passageway into his hall. Puffing slightly, he heaved himself up the ladder to his chamber, where he threw off his cloak and pulled on a thick woollen jack which made him feel a little warmer. Then he went to his money chest, as was his wont when returning, unlocked it and peered inside to check the contents. He nodded to himself and was about to close it, when he noticed a small sack that lay within.
    He had never seen it before. Baffled, he picked it up and hefted it. When he opened it, a collection of gemstones and coins fell into his hand. Mystified, he could only stare. They were not his; he had no idea where they could have come from.
    Then an explanation dawned. Each year the Cathedral commissioned pairs of gloves to be presented after Christmas to honour those who had helped the Cathedral over the year. Stitched from the finest pigskin and studded with jewels, they were valuable – and expensive to make.
    This year Ralph had been asked to provide the gloves for the ceremony, but he had been surprised to find that there had been less money than agreed – and fewer gemstones. The Secondary, Jolinde Bolle, who delivered them with Peter, had haughtily pointed out that if he didn’t want the commission, Karvinel would happily take it over. Bolle said that Canon Stephen, the Treasurer, didn’t think it necessary to spend so much on gloves this year. With the cost of the Cathedral’s rebuilding stretching their resources, economies must be made.
    Ralph had accepted the money and jewels, but it had seemed odd. He had agreed the quality and the price with the Dean when he was asked to make the gloves; but if the Treasurer had decided that the price was too high, who was he, Ralph, to argue?
    That was back in the first week of December, on the Feast of St Nicholas, sixth December. Now Ralph counted the gems and money and beamed. Someone had changed his mind: the sack made up the shortfall! That must be it: the Treasurer had decided to revert to the original arrangement. Strange he didn’t mention it this morning, but he must have sent someone to drop off this money and Elias had put it in the strongbox for