Authors: William Savage
Mr. Jempson paused at that point, then broke into loud and hearty mirth. ‘My dear friend,’ he said, when his laughter had subsided enough to allow speech. ‘How I wish thou couldst see thyself! Thou art the perfect picture of an errant schoolboy! One who has failed to con his lesson and must now stand to endure the punishment of the master and the derision of all his fellows.’
‘How could I have been so stupid?’ Adam said. ‘I was so sure I knew all and would be able to help Mrs. Ross recover her son. I see now how what few wits I have were taken up. It was with the most vain imagining of her gratitude and the way that I would shine in others’ eyes for my intelligence in bringing facts together to produce an answer.’
‘Thou hast learned a most valuable lesson, friend. It is pride that so often leads to each of us straying from the path of reason and truth. That is, in part, why members of our society will have nothing to do with ranks or titles. Never believe that thou dost deserve to be set above other men in some way. By doing so, thou wilt open the path to every kind of thoughtless and presumptuous action.’
‘It is a bitter lesson indeed,’ Adam said.
‘Nay, say not so. Only thy pride has been hurt. Thy purpose – to help a fellow creature who is suffering great pain and unhappiness – is noble indeed. Besides, thou art not wholly wrong in thy reckoning. I may well be able to get word to the young man you mention. If so, he will be urged to set aside his bitterness and hurt and hasten to be reconciled to his mother. That too is a noble purpose and one I will be most willing to assist. Perhaps, between us, thou and I may even be able to repair a small amount of the harm let loose upon the world by Dr. Ross. Like you, I must hold him to blame for all that has come about. He is beyond redemption in this world, it is true. Let us hope that God may yet be able to bring about what to us seems impossible and restore him to a state of grace.’
‘You can help?’ Adam was almost afraid to put his hope into words.
Mr. Jempson spoke carefully, unwilling to raise greater hopes or certainty than the facts warranted. ‘I mentioned my daughter, Elizabeth. Earlier in the year, she went north to Edgbaston, a village near to Birmingham, to visit her aunt. Many of our Society have settled in that area. It is becoming a centre of industry and innovation in manufacture, and there is also a need for those who can finance new ventures. We of the Society believe the Creator has placed a spark of His Divine Light in everyone, rich or poor, young or old, male or female. It is our most solemn duty to use that gift to live a good life. We also hold the education of all those in our Society to be essential, so that this Light may be enhanced and used to best effect. Some of this takes place each Sunday in our meeting, as we sit in silence to wait upon God and the inner promptings of the Light. Men need no priests or ceremonies, friend, since God speaks plain to each one in the silence of his heart, if he will only listen.
‘When Elizabeth returned, she spoke eagerly of all she had seen and done. In particular, she had made it her business to attend a series of lectures given by Dr. Priestley. He is a man of great learning and science and a firm favourite amongst all in those parts who value the search for truth and understanding. She also said that she had met another young woman at those lectures and recognised her from the Sunday meeting she had been to with her aunt. Being both of the same background, these two girls sought each other’s company and arranged to meet at each lecture. In a short time, they became firm friends and, as is the way of the young, happily talked together of what was dearest to their hearts.
‘Thus Elizabeth learned that a young student from Oxford had been coming to Birmingham whenever he could. He also wished to listen to the many men of science and industry who give lectures there. That itself was unusual, for those who have access to the universities, as we do not, often show little interest in any kind of study. It seemed this young man was also of quite slender means, his father keeping his own hand tight on the purse-strings. He could not be absent long from his college and to purchase passage on the stage for the distance from Oxford to Birmingham and back, even outside, is no small thing. Seeing his eagerness for knowledge, coupled too often with hunger, one or two of the gentlemen took pity on him and offered him food and accommodation in their own dwellings.
‘So also had this young woman’s father done. The young man had proved a most welcome guest. He was modest and polite in all things and eager to listen to anything of the way of learning his host might relate. It is unusual amongst the young, friend, to find one more willing to listen than speak – aye, and amongst the old too, my family would tell you.
‘These visits had begun before Christmas. By early spring they were near weekly occurrences. The daughter of the house and the student had spoken often and had, as is the way of things, come to develop an affection. In public, he was always most careful of her reputation. If he escorted her to the lecture, he took care to sit apart from her, lest any should take their amity amiss. To the world, he was no more than a young man repaying her father’s kindness by acting as protector to a young woman going abroad.
‘By now, friend, thou must know that I suspect this student to be none other than the Mr. William Ross thou hast spoken of. My daughter has maintained her correspondence with her friend. I will at once ask her to write and enquire whether we are correct in assuming his identity. If we are, the friend may well know where he is. In his pain and need, he may even have fled where he received kindness before and be living somewhere in Birmingham. I do not know.’
Adam would have piled praise and gratitude on his guest for his thoughtfulness, but the other would not allow it.
‘No, friend. I deserve nothing as yet. Thou dost not even know if any good may come of this. Even if it does, give thy thanks rather to whatever power thou thinkest directs events in this world for bringing it about. Thou art not in my debt in any way. In comparison with thy rescue of me from the thieves and the kindness thou didst show me afterwards, I have done nothing.’
The two men talked a little of other matters after that, but it was not long before Mr. Jempson took his leave and hurried to find his daughter. He left Adam torn between hope and fear. Might he at last be able to find Mr. William Ross? And, if he could solve at least one of the mysteries involved in the archdeacon's death, might he not solve more?
A
dam set
out in the early morning, intending to arrive in Briston before noon. An idea had come to him earlier that week and he was delighted that he had been able to arrange matters as he wished. Sometimes, even for him, being alone in his house save for the servants had became irksome. The evenings in particular opened before him as long tunnels, too often devoid of interest or amusement. By day he could busy himself with his patients. His practice was growing swiftly, thanks to several recommendations. Yet, once the last piece of business was complete and dinner eaten, he found little to occupy his mind that was pleasant or relaxing.
Adam had even been cheated of long talks with his friend, Lassimer. He too was becoming a busy man. So much so that he had persuaded his silent partner and nominal master apothecary, Mr. Gerstone, to employ an apprentice to assist him in the business. A suitable lad could probably be found locally. Though Mr. Gerstone would still be master for the purposes of the Worshipful Company, Lassimer would be in charge as the most senior. Fresh discussion with the Master of the Worshipful Company had born fruit. He had agreed to ask the Council to bring forward Peter’s entry to the freedom of his profession by six months.
As a result, Lassimer was committing much of his scant free time to these changes. He had started talking with several lads seeking apprenticeships and arranging the lodgings, for an apprentice would sleep in the attic of his house.
Much of this had begun before Adam had left for Norwich and he realised he had been naïve to assume it would be completed before he returned. He had imagined taking dinner with his friend at least once or twice most weeks. It was not to be. Lassimer was so often busy in the shop or out on the road that he was usually too tired for company of any kind.
It was while mulling over this sad turn to events that Adam had first conceived the plan he was now on his way to carry out. What he intended would allow him to lessen his loneliness by visiting his brother, while combining business and pleasure along the way. He would ride first to attend on a patient of good standing in Briston. Then he would discharge his promise to Capt. Mimms in Holt to keep him informed of new developments. Finally he would travel on to Trundon Hall, where he might spend a day or so with his brother’s family before returning to Aylsham.
He had thus written letters to Briston, Holt and Trundon Hall. Mr. Kalloway, an elderly patient at Briston, replied that he would be delighted by a visit. Alas, Adam feared only death would cure the condition that troubled the old man. He was only able to bring some relief from the pain. As before, he would renew his patient's supplies of the powerful draught that alone gave the respite of sleep. In too many cases, treatments for serious conditions produced unpleasant effects such as violent purging or vomiting. That strong disease required strong cures was the conventional view. Yet he had often seen men and women suffering from their last illness hastened to death as much by their treatment as by the disease. He sometimes wondered whether milder doses given less frequently, but over a longer period, might work as well. If the patient was destined to die anyway, was it not better to allow his or her last days or weeks to be as comfortable as they could be? Why seek to prolong a life attended only by violent suffering?
Determining to test out his ideas by experiment, he had therefore selected a few suitable patients. To these he applied lower doses of the normal remedies, accompanied by suitable draughts to kill pain or induce sleep. Mr. Kalloway was such a patient. Study of the detailed notes on each patient that he kept in a ledger had quickly convinced him that his approach was sound. Mr. Kalloway, in particular, suffered far less pain. He even enjoyed some reasonable measure of restful sleep. It remained to be seen whether his progress towards death would be any faster as a result. Yet Adam was content that he had a grateful patient and could feel he had provided some aid in a hopeless situation.
Capt. Mimms had also responded eagerly to Adam’s request that he might be received later today. Indeed, he had gone further. Not only was Adam invited to dine with the old mariner, but Capt. Mimms insisted he should stay at his house for the night, proceeding to Trundon Hall the next day.
‘It would be a sad thing for you to arrive to greet your brother and his family so late in the day,’ he wrote. ‘I am only too familiar with the state of tiredness and disarray that accompanies a lengthy ride. You will also be wearied by the additional burden of attending a patient along the way. I am alone in a house far too large for my needs. Several bedrooms stand empty and it would be my honour to offer you such accommodation as I can. Besides, I can also offer you some diverting entertainment. Not perhaps up to the standard of the city, but enough to while away an hour or two most pleasantly.’
It seemed a troop of travelling players were to set up in a barn behind one of the inns in Holt. There they would present plays for the amusement of the local populace. Performances would take place on Thursday, Friday and Saturday. After that, the troop would pack up their things and move on to the next town.
Adam loved the theatre. Naturally, this show would fall well below the standards he had enjoyed in Oxford, Glasgow and at the Theatre Royal in Norwich. The latter was a large building, able to contain a thousand in the audience it was said. Thus it attracted many of the finest players from the grand theatres in London and Dublin. He had even seen Mrs. Siddons on its stage. Still, most of the actors and actresses who were now famous had started out in travelling troops, such as the one setting up in Holt. What matter if the scenery was poorly painted and the costumes worn and patched? The plays on offer were often farces or comic entertainments well suited to an audience that would include rustics as well as a smattering of the better sort. Adam was well-pleased at Capt. Mimms' suggestion and at once sent word that he was happy to accept.
A
dam rode
along with a light heart and a keen sense of anticipation for the days ahead. Only the weather, as so often this year, was glum.
After he arrived at the house in Briston, Adam examined Mr. Kalloway carefully. He listened to his descriptions of his state of health, noting all down to add to his patient ledger later. Even though he knew there was no hope, he felt it only right to bestow his attention as readily on Mr. Kalloway as on any other patient. The old man seemed to take comfort from such care and it should on no account be denied. Even so, his visit lasted little more than an hour. The effort of talking had so worn out his patient that it would have been unkind to continue further. Thus he was in good time for dinner with Capt. Mimms.
He found his host in fine spirits and eager for news. Adam related his well-practised version of what he had learned from Mr. Wicken, leaving out those parts which he felt honour-bound to keep secret. To this he added an account of his talk with Lassimer. Capt. Mimms agreed at once. The facts all pointed to Constable Garnet as the person the archdeacon had arranged to meet in Gressington churchyard on the night of his death. Lassimer and Adam were correct about the constable.
‘There’s a rogue for you,’ Capt. Mimms said. ‘It is well known that many a parish constable in a coastal village thinks it prudent to turn his eyes away from his neighbours’ nocturnal activities. Some may even accept payment from the gangs to warn them when Revenue men are to be abroad. But few, I think, are as avaricious and greedy as Garnet. To think he was not only staying silent about the smugglers, but also using them for his own purposes. Of course he will say he did not know the manner of persons he was doubtless paid well to convey in secret. Still it takes little enough thought to fix upon the most likely answer. I declare he must have known, or guessed. That makes him a traitor, doctor, as well as a most cunning criminal.’
‘I agree with you,’ Adam said. ‘He must deny such knowledge if he seeks to avoid the terrible punishment the law lays down for treason. He knew he would hang anyway. He did not wish to suffer worse. It also explains why the wretch was willing to fight – aye, to kill too – in his effort to escape.’
For a while, both men sat in silence, preoccupied with their thoughts about Constable Garnet. Then Adam sat erect and gave a loud exclamation. ‘Damme! There it is. That I should have been so dull of wit not to have seen it before!’
‘Calm yourself, my young friend,’ Capt. Mimms said, ‘for I dare hope I may call you such after enjoying your company once again.’
‘Of course you may,’ Adam replied, ‘and I hope you will allow me the same level of intimacy in our dealings together. But when I tell you what I have grasped only this moment, you may regret claiming friendship to any as stupid as I must be.’
‘Never!’ Capt. Mimms declared. ‘Now, pray tell me at once what has so disturbed your composure.’
‘It has just become clear to me why Garnet did not fulfil his arrangement to meet with Dr. Ross. It is simplicity itself.’
‘Not to me,’ Capt. Mimms said. ‘I cannot guess.’
‘He
did
fulfil it – or tried to!’ Adam cried. ‘What do we know of Garnet? That beside his greed and contempt for all law and decency, he is cunning. He would not walk calmly into the churchyard and greet the archdeacon like a friend. No, he would most likely take care to go to the churchyard before the appointed time. There he would conceal himself to spy out the land before showing his face. Recall that the hour of their meeting was set for late in the day. That would make it easier to hide somewhere about.’
Capt. Mimms stared, but did not speak, so Adam plunged onwards. ‘I imagine he had instructed Dr. Ross to come alone. He was taking some risk in revealing himself, though I expect he assumed the archdeacon would not know him. He may even have muffled his face to avoid recognition, should he ever encounter the man again.’
Adam paused again. His brain was racing ahead of his speech. He needed a moment or so to arrange his thoughts sufficiently to aid explanation. ‘Dr. Ross was late – of course he was! His chaise was damaged and he had to seek help. Mr. Harmsworthy told me the archdeacon was wild to reach the churchyard, fearing he might be too late for whatever he purposed there. Garnet must have become apprehensive at the delay. If so, he would be even less willing to take further risk of being seen by any save the one he intended to meet. He had too much to lose. The smugglers’ grand landing of contraband, and his own arrangement to take those people out to a ship, were to happen shortly. They were only delayed through concern over the archdeacon’s death and the enquiries that might result throughout the area.’
Another pause. ‘Now think, my good friend. What did he see?’
Capt. Mimms stared at him, his face a picture of total incomprehension. ‘I have no idea,’ he said. ‘How is it possible to know what might have served to frighten him off?’
‘But we
do
know,’ Adam cried. ‘We have known almost since the start. He saw Archdeacon Ross enter the churchyard, and he also saw that he was
not
alone. He had the magistrate with him. To a criminal mind, that would suggest only one thing. Dr. Ross had betrayed him and planned to have him seized by Mr. Harmsworthy and taken into custody. Garnet failed to meet the archdeacon because he feared arrest. It is as simple as that.’
‘So he waited until Mr. Harmsworthy left,’ Capt. Mimms said, ‘then stole up on the unfortunate Dr. Ross and took his revenge.’
‘No. That I do not think, nor is there any evidence to suggest it. Far more likely that Garnet would try to get away as fast as possible. I doubt that he had given his name to Dr. Ross when the meeting was arranged. He would specify only a time and place. Perhaps they had some token or password by which each could identify himself to the other. So long as Garnet could remain unseen, he was safe. You can be certain he would determine to have no further dealings with Dr. Ross, but there was no need to kill him. His own carefulness and suspicion had saved him, as it must have done many times before.’
Another piece had fallen into place. Yet, once his momentary euphoria had passed, Adam admitted that it was but a minor piece of the puzzle. It led to no further revelations. Nonetheless, he and Capt. Mimms ended their meal happy and the older man was more than warm in his admiration for Adam’s powers of deduction.