Time and Tide (24 page)

The garrison had done its work, and applied its sanctions through the town, with a ruthless, clear efficiency that left a solemn silence in its wake. The North Street was deserted, but for a solitary sentry, by the turret tower. To Hew's astonishment, he saw that it was Maude. ‘What are you doing here, and at this hour?' he confronted her.

‘I came to hear how Jacob died. They would not let me in. They said it was for men,' said Maude. For four hours she had waited there, and kept her quiet vigil on the threshold of the college, while battle raged within.

‘Aye. I'm sorry for it, Maude. It is our rule,' Hew explained to her. ‘Yet you were well away, for there has been a fray tonight, a tumult and a brawl you would not care to see. You would have been ashamed of us.' And to see her there, sad, concerned and vexed, for Jacob, who had died a stranger in her house, he felt ashamed himself that it had come to this. Maude was worth the lot of them, he thought.

‘I heard,' admitted Maude. ‘There was a wee bit stirring in the street. The garrison have had their hands fu', for the baxters are a force that do not grumble quietly. James Edie said it was the bread,' she ventured suddenly.

‘Aye, it was,' admitted Hew. It was the bread, in every sense, that started the affray.

‘Then I am to blame, sir,' she blurted out.

‘Why are you to blame?' asked Hew.

‘I gave him bannock I had baked. It was not baxter's bread. It was the same bread, sir, you ate yourself, when you came for your dinner with the fish. And you did not turn sick, sir . . . yet, James Edie said . . .'

‘No, no,' he reassured her. ‘James Edie has lied to you, or you misunderstood. The bread you gave to Jacob can have done no harm. Whatever ill befell him, happened on the ship.'

‘You mean I did not kill him, sir?'

‘Of course you did not kill him! Put it from your mind!'

Hew slept fitfully, and was awoken shortly after five by the rumble of a handcart in the street. As soon as it grew light, he rose and dressed, returning to the gate. ‘All peaceful here?'

‘No news. The cloisters have been cleared and swept. The regents called the students from their beds at five, and set them on their knees for an hour of prayer. They went to it like lambs.'

‘Good work. Then bid them watch them close, and keep them to their task. We shall have no tumult in the hall today. I shall spend the morning with Professor Locke.'

‘Then are we to feed them? Or make them go without?'

‘Do you have the wherewithal?' asked Hew.

‘It seems, sir, that we do. The bread arrived this morning. Seven steaming baskets, full of good, hot wholesome bread.'

‘It is not poisoned, I suppose?' Hew considered sceptically. The porter grinned. ‘That did cross our minds, too. The bread comes freshly baked, and free of charge.'

‘Surely, not from Honeyman?'

The porter shook his head. ‘It comes from James Edie, sir, and with the baxter's compliments. A gesture of good will.'

It was evident to Hew, arriving at the Swallow Gait, that Giles Locke had not slept. However, he attempted a weak smile. ‘The boy is out
of danger. The bonesetter has been, poor bairn; that was an ordeal for him. His sister Clare has come to sit with him. She has asked for you.'

‘Why would she do that?' Hew was conscious of the flutter in his heart. He felt that Giles must sense it too.

‘As it seems, she trusts you.' Giles ran his fingers through his hair, a gesture of defeat, and utter weariness. ‘God knows, that there can be no reason why she should trust me.'

‘She has every reason,' contradicted Hew. ‘You saved her brother's life.'

Giles did not reply to this. ‘She sat with him all night.'

‘How could she have known to come?' Hew asked.

‘Her husband told her. He was at the meeting. It is safe to say, that he is not best pleased.'

‘The college and the town are both at peace,' said Hew. ‘The winds blow fresh, and light again. Perhaps it was required, to clear the heavy air.'

Giles answered hopelessly, ‘This storm brings devastation in its wake. And now I must resign my post, as principal and visitor.'

Hew exclaimed, ‘Do not do that!' Before he could say more, the door behind them opened, and Clare Buchanan came into the room. ‘Professor Locke, my brother is asleep. And your good wife is kind enough to sit with him, while I go home to rest, and change my clothes. Your pardon, Master Cullan,' she said quietly to Hew. ‘I thought . . . I hoped . . . that I had heard your voice. I wonder if you would consent to walk with me a while? I feel a little raw, and bruised, to step alone into the sun, at the close of such a dark and melancholy night. Do you think that strange?'

‘Not at all,' insisted Hew, touched to have her confidence.

‘You are so very kind to me. As you, Professor Locke, are kind to George. To bring him to your house, and treat him with such care. I know not how I can repay the debt, for if I give you all I have, it could not mean as much to you, as this has meant to me. With all my heart, I thank you for it.'

‘There is no debt,' Giles answered hoarsely. ‘For I am at fault.'

‘You are not at fault,' said Clare. ‘In truth, you are more blameless than you know, and we are more to blame. And as I understand it, it was Andrew Wood, who stirred this melting pot. Whoever brought the baxters through the college gates must surely be to blame, for some worlds set apart are never meant to meet.'

Hew felt astonishment at what she seemed to know. He thought of Meg, in her confinement, and Henry Cairns' wife, and Maude, left standing patiently outside the college gate, and wondered by what secret art, such women came to know the world.

‘I will return,' Clare promised Giles, ‘this afternoon.'

‘Aye, mistress, do,' the doctor answered listlessly. ‘I will keep George at my house until his bones have healed. He shall not risk the tumult of a horde of boisterous boys.'

‘You are too kind. I pray you, walk with me,' she said again to Hew.

‘Gladly,' Hew said awkwardly, and followed to the door. ‘Where is it you are going?'

‘Nowhere,' Clare confided. She was lovely in the light; the sun began to dapple in her hair, and though she had not slept, her face was fair and fresh. Her eyes were dark and watchful, and he found he could not look at her. ‘How does your brother now?' he asked.

‘I thank you, he is well . . . at least, not well,' she answered truthfully, ‘but the better for your sister and the good Professor Locke. Your sister is quite lovely, is she not? I dare to hope I might become a friend to her.'

He dared to hope it too. ‘I think it very likely you are almost the same age.'

‘A woman does not like to speak about her age,' she chided him. ‘How old is your sister?'

‘Meg is one and twenty.'

‘Then almost the same age,' Clare confided with a smile, ‘for I am twenty two. Poor George,' her thoughts grew darker. ‘He has
had to endure the visit of the bonesetter, and that, I confess, was a hard thing for him. As it was for me.' Clare fell silent for a while, before she ventured, ‘I think that you must know, sir, what I want to say to you.'

It took him by surprise, so that for a moment he was not sure at all, although he knew, had always known, at heart.

‘And what is that?'

‘My brother, sir, is in such dreadful pain. As he lay weeping through the night, he confessed the truth. He told me what he did.'

Hew stilled her, with a look. ‘Then do not speak it, Clare. For if you tell me what he did, then I may have to act upon it.'

‘He knows you saw him do it, sir. You do not need to lie for him,' said Clare. ‘And though it can be no excuse, he did not know the trouble it would cause.'

‘I know that he did not.'

‘He does not ask for pity, for he knows that he did wrong. I have no right to ask it. Yet I do implore you, if there is a way, to keep this matter close within the college walls; then do not tell the coroner; do not tell Andrew Wood, that it was George who started the affray.'

‘As to that, you have my word,' said Hew.

‘Your kindness, then, is more than we deserve,' Clare answered quietly. ‘I thank you, sir, with all my heart, and bid you make the matter known to Doctor Locke, for he has been so good to us I could not bear to break my brother's confidence. It is a want of courage on my part. I understand of course, that George must be expelled.'

‘I will put this matter to Giles Locke, and since I know the workings of his heart, as I do know my own, I can tell you now, what he will say,' said Hew.

Clare answered fearfully, ‘And what is that?'

‘He will say your brother George was sadly led astray, that he has been misused, and was another's instrument, that he was gravely hurt by it, and had no understanding of the harm he caused. He will say that he has suffered, more than he deserves. And he will
say it, not for kindness, but because it's true. George will remain in college, and he will not be expelled.'

Clare's eyes were bright with tears. ‘You cannot know how much this means to us. But suppose that someone else saw George?'

‘I am persuaded, no one saw him but the students at his back, who since they were complicit are unlikely to confess. Giles Locke will amend it,' Hew assured her.

‘Then I am content. For Robert says, all eyes were on the baxter, and Professor Locke, and he himself could not discern the cause of the affray. He was most vexed at it.'

‘Robert?' Hew repeated with a frown.

‘Aye, my husband, Robert Wood. He was at the meeting there last night. We must not tell him, sir,' Clare iterated anxiously.

Hew brushed this aside. ‘You are the wife of Robert Wood? The brother of the coroner?'

‘Aye. But does it matter, sir? I thought you must have known.'

‘I did not know.' Hew shook his head. Why should it matter, after all? And yet he minded bitterly. No husband in the world could leave him more dismayed than Robert Wood. A dreadful thought occurred to him. ‘Did you tell your husband Giles Locke kept a foot?'

Clare said, ‘What? A
foot
?'

‘A human foot,' persisted Hew. ‘You saw it in his rooms.'

‘Oh! I might have done. I do believe I did, for I had thought it strange. I do not understand you, sir. Did I do wrong?'

Hew walked back to the house, where he told Giles about the boy. And Giles responded as his friend had known he would. ‘Poor, benighted bairn! We will not hand our students to the council or the coroner. Such faults as we must mend, let us amend ourselves, within our own high walls, and according to our laws. No student of St Salvator shall suffer at the market cross, so long as I am principal.' To Hew's relief, the doctor gave no further hint of resignation.

‘I shall go, now,' Giles resolved, ‘and see if George lies waking, for the heavy load of conscience may keep a boy from rest, and hamper his recovery, that with judicious counsel, I may hope to ease. Stay, and make your breakfast here. Paul tells me that James Edie sent a loaf of bread. I know not if he meant to mock, or to appease.'

Hew commented, ‘He sent some to the college, too. I wonder if he hopes to steal a march on Patrick Honeyman. He is a shrewd contestant if he does.' He settled in a chair beside the fire, and presently a girl appeared with bread upon a tray, followed by the servant Paul, with a cup of ale.

‘Will you broach the bread, now, sir?' Paul wondered dubiously.

‘Aye,' said Hew, ‘why not?'

‘We dinna like to try it, till the master tastes it,' Paul admitted.

Hew broke off a piece. ‘It is unlike you,' he remarked, ‘to stand on such a ceremony. If you require your master's sanction, before you will break bread, then you have far less to you than I had supposed. I took you for a man, with a sharp mind of your own.'

‘As I am, sir,' answered Paul, uncertain what was meant, and whether he should take it as a compliment or not. ‘You ken sir, that I mind my mind – my
ain
mind, as it is – as closely as I mind Professor Locke.'

‘You mind it much more closely, as I think,' said Hew. ‘And if you listened to the doctor more, then you would eat the bread, and you would not be troubled by these fears.' To prove his point, he buttered it.

‘It wants the doctor's sanction,' Paul persisted stubbornly. ‘And it is for that, that James Edie sends it here this morning to the house. He fears ill rumour will affect his trade.'

It seemed to Hew it had already done so, for the girl declared emphatically, ‘I care not if he gies it free, or if he gies a shilling wi' it, I wadna taste a crumb of it, nor let it near my mouth.'

‘Nor I, sir,' muttered Paul.

‘Oh, for pity's sake!' said Hew, and took a bite. ‘The baxters have mistaken,' he assured them through the crumbs, ‘what the doctor said. The tainted grain was rye, and in the bread from Rotterdam, and all of it was eaten on the Flemish ship. No scrap of it remains here in the town.'

‘So I have advised the town,' Paul protested loftily, ‘yet they will not be told. Their minds may not be settled, till they see the doctor standing public in the marketplace, to taste and give his blessing to every baxter's bread. There are some sixty in the gild.'

‘But this is plain madness,' cried Hew.

‘Tis madness, sir, plainly, they fear.'

Hew turned with a groan towards Meg, who had come at that moment for breakfast, with Matthew asleep in her arms. ‘Your servants will not eat the bread!' he reported scornfully.

‘Though they may not, I will,' she answered with a smile. She set the infant rocking in his crib, and cut herself a piece. ‘Do you still suffer from the burning in your hands?' she asked the serving lass.

‘Aye, tis hot and sair, I doubt it is the fire,' the servant whimpered.