POVERTY'S PRIDE

CHAPTER NINETEEN

                                                CHAPTER NINETEEN

‘It seems Mrs Gilbert has taken to her bed,’ Cedric said to Rosalind at breakfast the next day. ‘Most extraordinary. Never known it happen before.’

    It was just the two of them. Lady Daphne and the two girls were not disposed to leave their rooms and Sir Leopold had left for Neath almost at dawn.

    ‘Well, I’m not surprised,’ Rosalind said. ‘She looked very ill on the way back from the village yesterday. Indeed, I feared she would faint at one point. What ails her?’

    Cedric shook his head. ‘I offered to send for Dr McCloud,’ he said. ‘But she would have none of it.’

    ‘A chill, perhaps?’

    ‘It’s a nuisance, all the same,’ Cedric said. ‘The new Rector, Mr Dunbar will be arriving later today. He’s spending the night here to be on hand for the funeral tomorrow. No room has been made ready for him.’

    ‘I’ll see to it,’ Rosalind said quickly. ‘All will be arranged.’

    Cedric smiled at her. ‘You’re a blessing to this house, Rosalind. I hope you never wish to leave...us.’

    Rosalind felt her face glow. Was she reading more into his look and voice than was there? Embarrassed by her own thoughts, and fearful that she would reveal them, she rose from the table. ‘Will you excuse me, Mr Cedric? I’d better see to things.’

    He rose too. ‘I’m off to the village inn to see Richard Whillowby,’ he said. ‘He and the watchman went to Middleton to see Mr Brice Thomas yesterday. I’m curious to what they have discovered, if anything.’

Cedric found them in Richard’s rooms. He and Twm Beynon were seated at a table, questioning a young village boy. Cedric took a seat too.

    Richard held out a sixpenny piece. ‘Now, my lad, this is yours if you can remember what you saw the day that lady fell from the cliff.’

    The boy eyed the sixpence with anticipation. ‘Like I told the watchman before, there was nobody about; no vagabond anyway.’

    ‘I thought you said the curate was on the path,’ Twm said sharply.

    The boy nodded. ‘Yes, he was.’

    Twm sniffed disparagingly. ‘Mr Tucker says you are lying. What do you say to that?’

    ‘He was there,’ the boy affirmed indignantly. ‘I saw him.’ He gave a piping laugh. ‘He was running like the Devil was after him.’

    There was silence for a moment and then Richard handed the coin to the boy. ‘Thank you, my lad. Off you go.’

    ‘Can we believe him?’ Cedric asked after the boy had raced away. ‘And does it mean anything?’

    ‘Look, sirs,’ Twm Beynon began. ‘I’m just a simple watchman and hesitate to speak out against the gentry. But I have my suspicions.’

    ‘Gentry?’ Richard frowned.

    ‘Clergy is as good as gentry to us simple folks,’ Twm continued. ‘But I know my duty, and I’ll stake my position as watchman.’

    ‘Well, speak out then, man!’ Richard said. ‘Whatever you say will not be held against you, I warrant.’

    ‘Very well, sir,’ Tom responded. ‘You may remember that when we saw that young girl Rosalind, I asked her if she thought the man who attacked her could have been the curate. She didn’t say yes, but she didn’t say no.’

    ‘Is that all?’ Cedric asked impatiently.

    ‘Not by a long ways, sir,’ Twm assured him. ‘Mr Brice Thomas said when he grappled with the man he realised the man was young and strong; well muscled and, mark this, sirs, well nourished.’

    ‘Well?’

    ‘A well nourished vagabond? I fancy not, sirs,’ Twm said firmly. ‘Vagabonds never know when the next meal is coming. I say there never was a vagabond.’

    ‘The curate in disguise!’ Richard said.

    Twm nodded. ‘Look at the other facts, sirs. Mr Tucker was seen on the path, running. When I asked him about it he turned nasty and knocked me to the floor.'

    ‘The hell he did!’ Richard exclaimed angrily. ‘Why did you not tell me this sooner?’

    ‘Mr Tucker said his benefactor, Sir Leopold, would have me driven from the village. Sir Leopold is not a gentleman to be trifled with, and me being just a lowly watchman, sirs.’

    ‘You’re a sharp one,’ Richard said. There was a hint of admiration in his voice. ‘And I’m beginning to agree with your suspicions about the curate.’

    ‘What must we do?’ Cedric asked.

    ‘Well, there is no direct evidence against him,’ Richard said thoughtfully. ‘But I think we are justified in tackling this curate again. I’m a good judge of men. I’ll know if he is lying.’

    ‘Now might be a good time to face him down, sirs,’ Twm said. ‘We should go to the Rectory directly.’

    ‘I must return to Cliff House,’ Cedric said. ‘My father must be apprised of the situation.’

    Richard and Twm Beynon rose to their feet.

    ‘Very well, Cedric,’ Richard said. ‘We will meet later.’