The Forest - Edward Rutherfurd [241]
She felt a sudden fear, a burst of urgency. She must put them off. She could send a messenger after Dunne in the morning. Assuming, of course, that he had returned to Warminster and not somewhere else. It was worth a try. She sighed. She’d sleep on it.
Yet every creature in the Forest, sooner or later, will be guilty of carelessness, for which the penalty can be high. In the morning, in the quiet shade of Moyles Court, she told herself that she was worrying unduly.
William Furzey didn’t waste any time. As soon as he had parted from Dunne he had continued northwards. It was a four-mile walk up to Hale, but he wasn’t taking any chances. If, by ill luck, the baker should be caught and questioned, Furzey couldn’t run any risk of being accused as an accomplice. Penruddock of Hale, therefore, was his first objective.
It was twilight when he arrived. The magistrate, about to go to bed after a busy day, was not best pleased to see the man who looked like a turnip, but as soon as Furzey began his tale he was all attention. By the time William had finished he was looking approving. ‘Fugitives. I haven’t a doubt of it,’ he said briskly. ‘You did well to come here.’
‘I’m hoping not to be the poorer for it, Sir,’ William Furzey said frankly. He’d considered bargaining at the start but wisely concluded this might irritate the magistrate.
‘Certainly.’ The other nodded. ‘It’ll depend on who they are, of course. But I’ll see you’re not the loser if we take them. You have my word.’ He gave Furzey a quick look. ‘They’ll probably think you could be useful, you know, at any trial.’
‘Yes, Sir.’ Furzey understood. ‘Whatever is wanted.’
‘Hm.’ The magistrate didn’t particularly care for this kind of business himself, but it was as well to know where one stood. ‘You say’, he resumed, ‘you’re to conduct them to Moyles Court on Tuesday night and that Dame Alice will shelter them?’
‘That’s what he told me, Sir.’
Penruddock the magistrate considered silently for a few moments. Alice Lisle, he thought grimly to himself. How the wheel turned. ‘Tell no one. Not a soul. Meet them exactly as planned. Have you a horse?’
‘I can get one.’
‘Ride straight to me as soon as they are at Moyles Court. Can you do that?’
Furzey nodded.
‘Good. You can sleep in the barn here tonight, if you wish,’ Penruddock offered kindly.
That night, before he went to bed, the magistrate wrote a message to be taken to his cousin, Colonel Thomas Penruddock of Compton Chamberlayne, at dawn the next day.
George Furzey looked at William Furzey and shook his head in wonder. ‘You dog,’ he breathed. ‘You clever dog. Tell me again.’ So William repeated everything.
The magistrate had instructed him to tell no one, but William didn’t count his brother, so as soon as he was able on Sunday, he had quit the farm and crossed the Forest to Oakley, to share the news. The joy it brought George Furzey was everything William could have wished for him.
George was not a man of deep imagination. He did not concern himself in detail with what might befall Alice Lisle. All he knew was that the woman who had cheated and humiliated his family was going to get her come-uppance. That thought was so large, and so beautiful, that all others were extinguished before it like stars before the rising sun.
‘She’ll be arrested, I reckon,’ said William.
The thought of Dame Alice being hauled off to the magistrate, humiliated in front of the whole Forest, seemed to William to be God’s perfect justice: a fitting tribute to his father’s memory. And then, as he considered the sweetness of it, another idea came into his mind like a flash of morning sunlight. ‘Know what?’ he said. ‘We could send Jim Pride along there too. If they found him at Moyles Court he’d have some explaining to do, wouldn’t he?’ He let out a chuckle. ‘We could do that, I reckon, William. We could do that, then!’
‘How’d you do it, George?’ his brother asked.