The Field of the Cloth of Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

crimson tent he didn’t even glance at it: evidently he’d forgotten about Isabella for the time being.
    After a brief conference, the three men dragged their boat onto the grass and began unloading various pieces of baggage and equipment. These included a large tent which they proceeded to erect close by the river. I decided to go and say hello. They looked at me warily as I approached, but I reassured them with a smile and a handshake. The first man was called Hartopp, and he was accompanied by his two sons. I liked them all from the start: I thought they had the bearing of unadorned noblemen.
    ‘I gather you’ve already met Thomas,’ I remarked.
    ‘The fellow in the white robes?’ said Hartopp.
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘He didn’t introduce himself,’ said the younger son, ‘but he spoke to us very haughtily.’
    ‘Made us feel most unwelcome,’ added Hartopp.
    ‘That comes as no surprise,’ I said.
    ‘Thinks he owns the place, does he?’
    Clearly Thomas had upset the three of them, but they rose above the slight with dignity and continued pitching their tent. This was a substantial structure: it comprised multiple curves, planes and angles, and appeared to have been designed by an engineer. According to Hartopp it was more than just weatherproof: it was completely storm resistant. He was visibly proud of its innovations, which included an extended awning and a set of pulley blocks for adjusting the guy ropes from within the tent. I was given a concise tour of the interior; then Hartopp opened a trunk and produced a square container made from tin.
    ‘Like a biscuit?’ he asked.
    ‘Oh,’ I said, ‘yes, please.’
    He removed the lid and revealed a stash of plain biscuits. We took one each, then went and stood under the awning. My biscuit, I noticed, was imprinted with some numerals.
    ‘It’s the date it was baked,’ said Hartopp. ‘Two years and eleven months ago, to be precise.’
    ‘Very nice,’ I said, munching it slowly. ‘Tastes quite fresh.’
    ‘Actually,’ he explained, ‘the word “biscuit” means “twice baked”.’
    ‘I didn’t know that.’
    ‘The process makes them hard but light, easy to preserve and excellent for sustenance.’
    ‘I see.’
    ‘Which is why biscuits are vital when travelling.’
    ‘Come a long way then, have you?’
    ‘Yes, indeed,’ said Hartopp. ‘A long, long way.’
    While we’d been talking, Isabella had emerged from her tent (fully clothed) and was now pottering around on the river bank. Every now and then she glanced in our direction.
    ‘Do you know Isabella?’ I enquired.
    ‘No,’ said Hartopp, ‘I’m afraid not.’
    ‘She only arrived yesterday,’ I said. ‘I thought you might have seen her during your journey.’
    ‘Our paths were unlikely to cross,’ he replied. ‘The river has many tributaries.’
    ‘Really?’ I said. ‘I never realized.’
    At these words Hartopp turned to me. ‘You’re not from the north-east then?’
    ‘No,’ I said. ‘In fact, I’m not from the north at all.’
    He absorbed this information thoughtfully but said nothing more on the subject. His sons, in the meantime, had finished unloading their boat. It was a sturdy vessel with a rounded hull and looked as if it was built to last. They hoisted the sail again so it could dry properly in the sun before being folded away; then they turned and stood peering upriver.
    ‘Expecting somebody?’ I asked.
    ‘Yes,’ said Hartopp, ‘we have some friends coming, but they seem to have fallen behind.’
    Isabella was now standing perfectly still on the bank and gazing into the north-east. Although she was further downstream, she had a better view of the river because of the way it curved. I could tell she’d seen something approaching and, sure enough, a minute later two more boats came in sight. Their crews waved when they saw us. They drew up to the shore and dropped their sails in the same orderly manner as when Hartopp had arrived; then we all manhandled the