religion … dead children and a live grandchild … those were the solid bricks of the Steyning-Parrott alliance. The Civil War had only bound them tighter together, becoming a make-or-break cause for both families.
And the gold … normally the possession of gold divided men more than it united them, but in these peculiar circumstances it would have been the best cement of all—a loan on behalf of their joint grandchild’s future, an investment in the service of everything that they believed in.
“So, when you think about it intelligently, Audley, Standingham Castle was the one place Parrott could really feel safe in between North Devon and London.”
Audley frowned. “You mean—he went there deliberately? The newspaper report said he was chased there by the Royalists.”
Nayler gave a derisive snort. “My dear Audley—you don’t really believe what the newspapers say, do you? Besides, he may simply have been chased where he intended to go.”
“Even though it was being besieged?”
“The siege was a rather intermittent affair, or it had been up to then, certainly. And Standingham was a great stronghold too; Monson was considerably reinforced that last time, of course.”
And maybe the incentive was greater, thought Audley grimly. With a ton of gold as the prize Black Thomas would probably have chanced his arm on the gates of Hell.
“Hmm … You said ‘time’ as well as place, Professor.”
“I did indeed—don’t be dense, my dear fellow. Time and place are what makes the thing certain in my mind. There was absolutely no other reason why Parrott should ride out of his way to Standingham—it wasn’t as though the news of his father’s death was of the least importance to anyone. He should have gone straight back to his regiment, where he was urgently needed. That’s Point One.
“And Point Two is that he took far too long to get there in any case. That is, if he’d still been travelling the way he’d come. Which of course he wasn’t, because now he had a ton of gold to transport. And that would mean wagons or pack horses, probably pack horses—or pack ponies, seeing that he was coming from the West Country. But for much of the route he’d be passing through Royalist-held territory, so that would mean using back-roads and circling the main towns and villages. Quite a deal of night-marching too, I shouldn’t wonder … all of which would play the very devil with the men and the animals.”
True enough, Audley conceded grudgingly. The man might be a bastard, and for sure he was being wise after the event, but he’d done his work properly all the same.
“I see. He had to have somewhere to rest up en route .”
“At last you’re beginning to see the light! Somewhere safe, with someone he could trust. Preferably about halfway to London. Standingham Castle and Sir Edmund Steyning.” Nayler paused. “All inference, of course—all hypothesis. But when you throw a ton of gold into the scales you’ll see that I’m right… . And if you’re looking for more detail, I suggest you switch on your little television the Sunday after next and it’ll all be there.”
Indeed it would. And Charlie Ratcliffe’s claim to fortune would be established to the satisfaction of tens of millions, too; established so that even those who loathed everything which he stood for would concede his right to his loot.
So the gold was real.
And the emergency was real.
The phone pipped for more money and he automatically fed the last of his change into it.
“Are you phoning from a call box?” Nayler managed to make the simple question sound contemptuous.
“Uh-huh… . One more thing. Professor: where do the Ratcliffes come into the story?”
“The Ratcliffes? Oh, they simply had the good fortune to marry the granddaughter—the Steyning-Parrott heiress. She was the only survivor of the whole affair, you know … and later on she became Cromwell’s ward. It’s interesting that he never married her off to
And the gold … normally the possession of gold divided men more than it united them, but in these peculiar circumstances it would have been the best cement of all—a loan on behalf of their joint grandchild’s future, an investment in the service of everything that they believed in.
“So, when you think about it intelligently, Audley, Standingham Castle was the one place Parrott could really feel safe in between North Devon and London.”
Audley frowned. “You mean—he went there deliberately? The newspaper report said he was chased there by the Royalists.”
Nayler gave a derisive snort. “My dear Audley—you don’t really believe what the newspapers say, do you? Besides, he may simply have been chased where he intended to go.”
“Even though it was being besieged?”
“The siege was a rather intermittent affair, or it had been up to then, certainly. And Standingham was a great stronghold too; Monson was considerably reinforced that last time, of course.”
And maybe the incentive was greater, thought Audley grimly. With a ton of gold as the prize Black Thomas would probably have chanced his arm on the gates of Hell.
“Hmm … You said ‘time’ as well as place, Professor.”
“I did indeed—don’t be dense, my dear fellow. Time and place are what makes the thing certain in my mind. There was absolutely no other reason why Parrott should ride out of his way to Standingham—it wasn’t as though the news of his father’s death was of the least importance to anyone. He should have gone straight back to his regiment, where he was urgently needed. That’s Point One.
“And Point Two is that he took far too long to get there in any case. That is, if he’d still been travelling the way he’d come. Which of course he wasn’t, because now he had a ton of gold to transport. And that would mean wagons or pack horses, probably pack horses—or pack ponies, seeing that he was coming from the West Country. But for much of the route he’d be passing through Royalist-held territory, so that would mean using back-roads and circling the main towns and villages. Quite a deal of night-marching too, I shouldn’t wonder … all of which would play the very devil with the men and the animals.”
True enough, Audley conceded grudgingly. The man might be a bastard, and for sure he was being wise after the event, but he’d done his work properly all the same.
“I see. He had to have somewhere to rest up en route .”
“At last you’re beginning to see the light! Somewhere safe, with someone he could trust. Preferably about halfway to London. Standingham Castle and Sir Edmund Steyning.” Nayler paused. “All inference, of course—all hypothesis. But when you throw a ton of gold into the scales you’ll see that I’m right… . And if you’re looking for more detail, I suggest you switch on your little television the Sunday after next and it’ll all be there.”
Indeed it would. And Charlie Ratcliffe’s claim to fortune would be established to the satisfaction of tens of millions, too; established so that even those who loathed everything which he stood for would concede his right to his loot.
So the gold was real.
And the emergency was real.
The phone pipped for more money and he automatically fed the last of his change into it.
“Are you phoning from a call box?” Nayler managed to make the simple question sound contemptuous.
“Uh-huh… . One more thing. Professor: where do the Ratcliffes come into the story?”
“The Ratcliffes? Oh, they simply had the good fortune to marry the granddaughter—the Steyning-Parrott heiress. She was the only survivor of the whole affair, you know … and later on she became Cromwell’s ward. It’s interesting that he never married her off to
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