The Brothers of Glastonbury Read Online Free PDF Page B

blasphemous or … or wrong in them.’
    ‘Mark may be able to read, but he only does so for business purposes,’ Dame Joan reproved ‘He doesn’t waste his time filling up his head with nonsense.’
    ‘Mistress Gildersleeve,’ I interrupted, ‘I should be pleased to know exactly what has taken place, all the circumstances of your son’s disappearance…’
    But, ‘One of the maids has left already,’ was the only response I got. ‘Maud has gone back to her father’s cottage in Bove Town. By now the whole of Glastonbury must be buzzing with the news.’
    I looked appealingly at Cicely, who leant across and touched Dame Joan on the arm.
    ‘Aunt, will you permit me to tell Roger the facts?’
    The afflicted lady gave a little moan. ‘Do what you like,’ she said tearfully.
    ‘Very well. Thank you.’ Cicely clasped her hands together on the table. ‘Perhaps Roger might be able to suggest a solution, you never know.’
    She smiled at me, that tantalising, impish smile of hers, and it occurred to me that she was very calm for one confronted with the news that her betrothed had vanished. She also seemed suddenly more grown up. I made no remark, however, but poured myself another cup of wine and settled down to listen to her explanation.
    *   *   *
    As the interruptions and emendations of Dame Joan (in addition to my own questioning) made Cicely’s explanation longer and more confusing than necessary, I shall set down the facts in narrative form as they seemed to me after I had sorted and assembled them into some sort of order.
    It was now Tuesday. On the previous Friday, Peter Gildersleeve had announced his intention of visiting the Pennards (already known to me through my earlier conversation with Cicely). There was nothing unusual in this as, like their father before them, the brothers bought some of their skins from Anthony Pennard and his two sons, Gilbert and Thomas. He had therefore set out not long after dinner, riding the five or so miles between Glastonbury and Wells on Dorabella, a chestnut mare which belonged to the family. (If a second horse or a carriage for Dame Joan were needed, they were hired from the Northload Street livery stables.)
    In the event, however, Peter had made no attempt to see either Anthony or his sons. The three men were from home that afternoon, but Mistress Pennard and both her maids had been indoors all day, not wishing to venture forth in the stifling heat, and they all declared that no one had called at the house. But Peter Gildersleeve had been seen on Pennard land, a fact attested to by one of the shepherd-lads, Abel Fairchild. Not only had Abel set eyes on Peter Gildersleeve, but the terrified boy also swore that the visitor had magically vanished almost in his presence.
    By an odd coincidence – or perhaps it was not a coincidence: was it not just as likely that God had taken over the reins and was directing my every move? – this event had occurred on the very same stretch of ground across which Cicely and I had travelled earlier that afternoon, within those two folds of the Mendip hills where she had pointed out the shepherd’s hut and the distant prospect of the Pennards’ house. Abel had been following his flock down to the lower slopes, and had noticed Peter Gildersleeve descending from the copse towards the hut. He had watched him pause and stare around once he had reached level ground. Peter had then glanced up, recognized Abel and raised his hand in greeting.
    At this point, the undulation had hidden both him and the hut from Abel’s sight; but the boy was young and active, and it had been only a matter of seconds before he had ascended the opposite slope. In those few seconds, however, Peter Gildersleeve had completely vanished.
    To begin with, Abel had thought nothing of it. He assumed that for some reason or other Peter had gone into the hut; so, being a conscientious lad and mindful of his master’s interests, he had opened the door and looked