The Witching Pool: A Justice Belstrang Mystery (Justice Belstrang Mysteries Book 2) by John Pilkington (love letters to the dead .TXT) 📗

their home, for whatever reason, then they would be most careful to avoid discovery. They could even be in hiding, awaiting nightfall.’

‘It’s possible,’ I allowed.

We were on the riverbank, just below the bend where the Teme flows into the Severn, with the rooftops of Powick just visible on the far side. I had thought of venturing there, though it seemed an unlikely destination, and doubtless Cobbett would have considered it. We had seen nothing of the man himself, all day.

‘Or, might they have crossed the water?’

He was gazing at the river, scanning the far bank. During the day we had encountered men fishing, but they could tell us nothing. As for Dan Tait: we had stopped at the crossing, but though his boat was moored, he was nowhere to be seen.

‘They would have needed help,’ I said, thinking of my encounter with the ferryman the day before. But I dismissed the notion: Tait would never dare to involve himself with Giles Cobbett’s runaway daughters. More likely he would inform on them at once, in hopes of gaining favour from their father.

On a sudden, Childers yawned; it had been a long day, and he was unused to hard riding. I glanced up; the sun was waning, and it looked as if there was nothing more to be done, but to ride back to the crossing and await the rest of my party.

‘We’d best go,’ I said.

Somewhat low in spirits, we remounted and headed downriver again, walking the tired horses. Tait’s crossing was little more than a mile off, and we were there within the quarter hour to find my servants already waiting.

As I expected they were empty-handed, and had found no trace of the runaways.

***

We returned to Thirldon, where I left the men to take supper and spend the rest of the evening as they pleased. Childers and I supped late with Hester, who was astonished at my news. Knowing she would ask my reason for taking a party to Ebbfield in the first place, I was obliged to give her a brief account of all that had occurred. Seeing how tired and dispirited we both were, she passed no comment.

Yet my own thoughts were in disarray: how should I act, given the new circumstances? Though I knew there had to be good reason for Jane Cobbett and her sister to flee their home, I could hardly confront their father at such a time. In this humour, I at last went to my bed. I had a vague notion of riding to Boyd on the morrow to see if, between us, we could come at some solution. Then I recalled that it would be the Sabbath, which afforded me one small relief: I would sleep late, and hang the consequences.

However, the night was far from over.

I awoke in pitch darkness, hearing the door open. I assumed it was Hester, until I made out the figure of Childers in his night-robe, holding a candle. As I sat up, he called out.

‘Your pardon, sir, but you had better rise and come down.’

‘What in God’s name…?’ I began, then paused. Through the open window came sounds: hooves, and the clink of harness.

‘There’s a cart,’ Childers said. ‘We have visitors.’

I dressed hurriedly, growing aware of voices and footsteps on the stairs; some of the servants were up. When I emerged from my chamber, I found Hester waiting in her russet night-gown. Together we descended, following Childers through the doors and out into the night air. In the courtyard, where lanterns had been lit, stood a covered cart with two horses stamping and blowing in the shafts. A man I did not recognise was holding the nearside horse, speaking low to calm it. As I looked around, Elkins the groom, a cape thrown over his night-shirt, came walking towards me.

‘They won’t come out, sir,’ he said, frowning. ‘They ask for you, and no-one else.’

‘What do you mean?’ I demanded. ‘Who won’t come out?’

‘The girls.’ He gestured towards the cart. ‘They’re afraid… can you assure them they will come to no harm?’

For a moment I failed to understand. But Hester gave a start, and clutched my arm instinctively.

‘Girls…?’ I gazed at Elkins, who held out a lantern - and as I took it, realisation struck me. I pointed to the man with the horses. ‘Who’s that?’

‘He drove the cart in, sir,’ Elkins answered. ‘Woke me up… by the time I came out of the stable he was down on the cobbles. He doesn’t say much.’

‘Does he not?’ I said. ‘We’ll see.’

Holding the lantern aloft, I walked directly to the cart-driver, who turned at my approach. I was on the point of demanding an explanation, but decided it must wait: his passengers were more important. So I walked to the rear of the wagon, lifted the flap… and froze.

Two faces peered out, blinking in the lantern’s glow: Jane and Alison Cobbett, huddled together, wrapped in cloaks. At sight of me they started, then:

‘Master Belstrang…’ Jane gave vent to a sigh, of mingled relief and exhaustion. ‘I pray you, give us sanctuary. We ask you to help us – or if need be, we will beg.’

And she broke into tears, whereupon her sister did the same.

SEVENTEEN

There was no question of speaking with the runaway girls that night. They were brought into the house and given a chamber together, the beds hastily prepared. Hester attended them herself, assuring them that they could remain there as long as they liked, taking breakfast in the room if they desired. Meanwhile, she said, the Justice would inform their father they were safe – but at that, Jane had flown into a panic.

‘But he must not!’ She had cried. ‘Not until I explain - will you ask his promise to wait until then?’

It was done. Hester brought the request