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examining the last parchment sheets. "My Lord Earl, aside from the question of
how this knight of yours planned to make arrest of the Earl of Oxford or he
ofWinchester what is this most remarkable document for the detaining of the
King,signed by you as Regent for Prince Edward ?"
"Those damn scribes of mine!" cried the Earl."Always playing at some foolery
when there is a moment's pause in the work. If they forged my signature to it,
I'll have the hide off them."
"If they are of the Church and merely lent you for scribe-work, you will do
no such thing!" said the Bishop sternly. "Privilege of Clergy is one of our
dearest jewels, and the Crown of the Church; and the Church alone will
consider their sin and correct them, if need be!"
"They are common men trained by those I set to do so," said the Earl.
"Certain matters they must write which are secret to the Throne; and I would
not put men of the clergy at such work, where those who write for me might
fall into the hands of those who fear not God and would try to wring
information from them. I will take thatparchment, and those where they have
played at ordering the arrests of such asOxford andWinchester the rest can go
to Sir James, here."
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"Nay," said the Bishop, "I will hand them all over."
"My Lord Bishop," said the Earl, clearly making an effort to keep his voice
down. "This is not a court where you sit as judge, and these matters have no
concern with the Church "
"Hah!" said the Bishop, his eye lighting up with the same fire he showed
whenever mention was made of Bishop Odo, his by-gone exemplar. "The King is
king by appointment of God; and it is the duty of all inHolyChurch to defend
him from all who might try to do him harm. My concern is what threat this
forgery might mean to his Royal Highness!"
He strode to the dais and the Earl and pushed the parchment in his hand at
him.
"Do you warrant to me that your name written there is a forgery and not in
your own hand?"
"By the " the Earl choked; and stopped, his face going red with anger, but
apparently holding second thoughts about the oath almost on his tongue. It was
difficult to find something to swear by that would express his feelings and
still not be improper, roared out in the face of a Lord of the Church.
"I " Kineteté began, and broke off in her turn, looking at Carolinus.
"You're quite right, Kineteté," said Carolinus cheerfully; "pass me the
parchment, if you would be so kind, my Lord Bishop "
The Bishop, who clearly did not want to leave his commanding position
standing over the seated Earl, passed the parchment to Dafydd, who passed it
to Jim, who passed it to Carolinus.
"Ah, just as I thought," said Carolinus looking at it. "There is no need to
question his Lordship. I can tell magickally if there has been forgery at
work& thank you. Yes, just as I thought. This was done by no trained scribe.
Only one of a people who live very far from here and write in a fashion
entirely different could have written my Lord Earl's signature, here. Look for
yourself at its oddities."
The parchment came back by the same route. Jim glanced at it as it passed
through his hands, then took another look to make sure. The signature was now
at least one that had been forged in a thoroughly familiar hand.His own.
Dafydd had his hand outstretched. Jim passed him the parchment and turned to
stare hard at Carolinus, who smiled back.
"Indeed," said the Bishop, considering the parchment with a somewhat puzzled
air, "it does look even more false than it seemed to me at first glance."
"Hah!" said the Earl, with satisfaction. "Give it back to me, then."
He all but snatched at the sheet, but his fingers closed on empty air.
"No," said Carolinus, smoothly, now holding the parchment. "I will hold it
and make some inquiries. Meanwhile, I'll put it in a safe place."
The parchment vanished from his hand. Both the Earl and the Bishop looked
disconcerted.
But there was no time for them to say anything; because just at that moment a
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hollow, high-pitched voice, like that of a ghost speaking through a megaphone,
made itself heard from the closest of the Hall's three fireplaces.
"M'Lord?" It was the voice of Hob. He was obviously hiding well inside the
fireplace chimney because there were strangers present.
The men-at-arms had turned into statues again. Nothing now was ever going to
alter their complete certainty that Jim could call devils to his aid if he
wanted to. Telling them that what they had heard was just his Castle hobgoblin
would make no impression. They had heard it, and now they knew with every
fiber of their bodies what the real truth was. Even if they saw Hob, he would
obviously be only a devil in disguise.
"M'Lord, the Lady Geronde sent me with a message for him. Pray forgive me,
m'Lord, for speaking, but it's more important than anything!"
"Who'shim ?" demanded Jim. "What's it?"
"I have to whisper it to you, m'Lord. Would your Lordship come over to the
fireplace, so no one else can hear?"
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Grumbling to himself, Jim started toward the fireplace, and bumped into
Carolinus, who was also on his feet.
"It's all right, Carolinus," he said, a little more sharply than he had
intended. "I can find out what Hob's worked up about bymyself ."
"Then do so!" snapped Carolinus. "It happens I'm on my way to heal Sir
Simon's wound."
Carolinus pushed past him; and Jim, with an effort, kept the lid on his
temper. But that lid was getting harder to hold down all the time. He had been
outraged, seeing Angie tied up at Simon's order; but he had kept his surface
calmness. He had been patient with the Earl, tolerant of Kineteté, and polite
to the Bishop all of whom had shown a tendency to act with a certain arrogance
of authority, in spite of the fact that they had all come without invitation
into his Hall, his home.
Now it looked as if he would have to humor Hob, who had been absent when
needed, just a short time ago.
He tramped over to the fireplace, with Simon's armsmen watching him and
nodding to each other in fairly obvious agreement that this was just the sort
of thing they had expected him to do with his Devil. Ignoring them, he stuck
his head into the fireplace now down to a mere warmness and tried to look up
its chimney.
"Here& m'Lord," a faint whisper came to him; and, turning, he saw much
farther up than he had expected an upside-down, shadowy, Hob-like shape, both
arms and legs spread out against the two walls making a corner of the chimney;
and holding its position either by sheer pressure against the walls or some
handholds and footholds it was too dark for Jim to see.
"Come on down!" said Jim, "and speak a little louder. I can barely hear you!"
"Yes, m'Lord," whispered Hob, creeping down perhaps half the distance between
them. "It's just& Court's Hob& not stiff& or, you& nose& in air; and told me&
so& Malvern "
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"Closer! Louder!" snapped Jim. "I can't make sense out of what you say when I
don't hear four words out of every five. Just tell me what's so important."
"M'Lord, he'll hear me!"
"No he won't. Who'sh e, I say? Anyway, no one's going to hear you."
"Oh, that's all right, then," said Hob, in his normal voice. "I was
afraid anyway, if it's all right now."
He scrambled down the chimney's interior without apparently needing anything
to hold to, and stopped just before he could be seen by those in the Hall.
"You see, m'Lord," he said, "the King's Hob, at that place called the Court, [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]