The Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

Ireland, what was my next step? Obviously, to find out more about this Dame Bellknapp and her history, and as she was related to my neighbour, John Foster, I should have to risk a rebuff from the former sheriff and mayor-elect and pay him a visit. He might know something worth the telling; although distant relatives, if they had any sense, usually remained just that.
    I got to my feet and reached down to press my half-brother’s hand with my own. ‘I’ll do what I can,’ I promised, and shouted for the turnkey to let me out.
    Luck was with me. The young maidservant who answered the door informed me that Alderman Foster was at home, and if I liked to step inside, she would see if he was willing to receive me.
    As I had told my half-brother, this was not the largest or grandest house that Small Street had to offer, but the hall’s elaborately carved stone fireplace, the painted and gilded ceiling beams, upper window panes made of glass, not horn, a corner cupboard displaying a quantity of pewter and fine silverware, a spruce coffer spread with green velvet cushions and a branched candelabra, holding five wax candles, all spoke of a wealth and comfort that Adela and I would never achieve. Most of our neighbours resented the fact that such a raggle-taggle bunch as my family had come to live amongst them at all, and I was more than half prepared to be told that Alderman Foster was unable to receive me. But five minutes later, he appeared, smiling affably and brushing his hands together.
    â€˜Salt!’ he exclaimed with a laugh. ‘I’ve been down in my cellars, Master – er—?’
    â€˜Chapman. Roger Chapman,’ I murmured. ‘A neighbour of yours.’
    â€˜Ah, yes, I know! You have three small children and a dog.’ I groaned inwardly. We were notorious, even Hercules. But, miraculously, the alderman didn’t seem to mind. ‘I only have two children, a son, Richard, and a daughter, Agnes, but they are all a gift from God.’ I wasn’t so sure about that, but kept a still tongue in my head. ‘So, how may I be of service, Master Chapman? I must apologize for having kept you waiting, but, as I said, I’ve been down in my cellars, checking my latest consignment of salt, received yesterday from the Rhineland.’ His eyes lit with a sudden enthusiasm. ‘Have you ever visited the Rhineland, my dear sir? Have you ever seen the city of Cologne? Or its marvellous, wondrous cathedral?’ I denied all knowledge of both and was informed sadly that I had missed one of the miracles of the world. ‘However,’ my host continued, ‘I daresay you haven’t come to hear me ramble on. What can I do for you?’ And he waved me to an armchair at one side of the fireplace, while he seated himself in another, opposite.
    I perched awkwardly on the edge of the hard, carved seat, more embarrassed by his condescension than I would have been had he snubbed me, and explained what I wanted. When I had finished, without admitting to my personal interest in the case, John Foster rubbed his chin thoughtfully.
    â€˜A history of the Bellknapps, eh? I heard what had happened, of course. Sergeant Manifold informed me of the incident and asked my opinion of what should be done. What could I say? Audrea Bellknapp’s a distant kinswoman of mine, and although we don’t see much of one another as a general rule, she always visits me and my wife whenever she’s in the city, as she did on this occasion, before going on to the fair. As far as I know, she’s a sober, upright and honest woman who wouldn’t accuse a man falsely. She must genuinely believe this young man to be who she thinks he is.’
    â€˜Neither of the men with her recognized him as this John Jericho.’
    â€˜Her steward, George Applegarth and her receiver, Edward Micheldever … No, they didn’t, or so I understand. That is what’s exercising Sergeant