An Instance of the Fingerpost Page 57

  ‘Her name is Sarah Blundy. The person you insisted must die. You have stopped her mouth for ever, and that proof will now remain hidden for ever, for she must have hidden it well. You will now never prove your father’s innocence, nor get your estates back. Your name will be for ever tarnished with the title of traitor. It is a just punishment for your sins. You must live knowing you are the author of your own misfortunes.’

  He sat back again with a knowing smile, ‘You are making fun of me, sir. It is your way, perhaps, but I must ask you to be more direct with me. Tell me the truth, please.’

  I told him again. Adding more details, then still more details until the smirk faded from his face and his hands began to tremble. I say again, I took no pleasure in it and, though it was just, I took no satisfaction either in the hideous additional punishment that was then meted out to him. For as I told him precisely how his father had betrayed the king and come close even to murdering him, his voice fell into a growl, and the hideous demonic look that came over his twisted and contorted features frightened even Thurloe, I believe.

  It was well that he had not lost his old habits of caution, and had a servant in the background, ready for all eventualities. As I finished, Prestcott launched himself at my throat, and would surely have torn the very life from me had he been granted just a few more seconds before being manhandled to the ground.

  As a priest, I necessarily believe in the possession of men by demons, but I think that I had always used the notion in careless, thoughtless ways. I could not have been more wrong, and those sceptics who disbelieve such things are deluded by their own vanity. There are indeed demons, and they can take over the bodies and souls of men and drive them to frenzies of malice and destruction. Prestcott was all the proof I could ever need to persuade me to put aside scepticism for ever, for no human form would be capable of the violent bestiality I saw in that room. The monstrous devil in Prestcott, I believe, had controlled his thoughts and deeds for many months, but in such careful, subtle ways that its presence was unsuspected.

  Now it was finally frustrated, its fury and violent activity burst out in hideous extremity, making him roll on the floor, scratching the boards with his fingernails until the blood spurted from them and was dragged in thin red lines down the grain of the wood. It took all three of us to restrain him, and even we were unable to stop him crashing his head, time and again against the furniture, and trying to bite us whenever we incautiously put a hand near him. And he screamed hideous obscenities all the while, although fortunately most of the words could not be made out, and continued thrashing around until he was bound and gagged and taken to the university prison, there to wait the arrival of some member of his family to take him in charge.

  Chapter Twelve

  * * *

  I WOULD HAVE left for London immediately even had I not been told, by Mr Wood of all people, that Cola had fled Oxford after hearing of Sarah Blundy’s death. Both she and the mother were now dead, and I felt that, at the very least, some of his plans were frustrated; his ability to communicate with those supposedly assisting him was greatly diminished, enough to make any further sojourn in Oxford useless to him. More importantly, I considered he must have heard of Prestcott’s descent into frenzy: if Thurloe was right, and the first attempt on Clarendon was to be through the young lunatic, then he would have realised that the move had failed, and it was now time for him to act. This thought, more than any other, prompted me to leave as speedily as possible.

  The journey was as tedious as ever, and I lurched along, conscious that my quarry was but a few hours ahead of me. But no one at Charing Cross recalled someone answering his description when I arrived and asked questions. So I went directly to Whitehall, where Mr Bennet was most likely to be found, and sent in a message begging the favour of an interview with the utmost urgency.

  He saw me within an hour; I resented the delay, but had prepared myself for an even greater one.

  ‘I hope this is indeed important, Doctor,’ he said as I entered his chamber which, I was relieved to see, was empty save for himself. ‘It is unlike you to cause such a commotion.’

  ‘I believe it is, sir.’

  ‘So tell me what is on your mind now. Still concerned with plots?’

  ‘Indeed. Before I explain, I must ask a question of the greatest importance. When I informed you of my suspicions a few weeks ago, did you communicate this to anyone? Anyone at all?’

  He shrugged, and frowned at the implied criticism. ‘I may have done.’

  ‘It is important. I would not ask otherwise. Less than two days after I spoke to you, Cola murdered my most trusted servant, whose name I gave you. He then came to Oxford and attempted to kill me also. He knew I had a copy of a letter of his, and he stole it, along with a similar one I have kept by me for years. I have since become convinced that the man who has organised his presence here is Lord Bristol. What I must know is whether you informed His Lordship of my suspicions.’

  Mr Bennet said nothing for a long while, and I could see that his acute and rapid mind was assessing every aspect of what I said, and every implication of my words as well.

  ‘I hope you do not suggest . . .’

  ‘Had I done so, I would hardly have raised the subject with you. But your loyalty to your friends is well known, and you would not expect any man so indebted to the king to act against his interest. And I believe Cola’s target is not the king, but the Lord Chancellor.’

  This surprised him, and I could see that all now began to make sense to his mind in a way it had not before. ‘The answer to your question is that I believe I did mention it to Lord Bristol, or at least to one of his entourage.’

  ‘And his relations with Lord Clarendon are as bad as ever?’

  ‘They are. But not so bad that I can easily consider he would act in such a way. He is given to mad schemes, but I have always considered him too weak to achieve much. Perhaps I underestimated him. You had best tell me exactly why you conclude this.’

  I did so, and Mr Bennet listened with the greatest gravity throughout, not even interrupting when I confessed to having been in consultation with John Thurloe. When I finished he again said nothing for a long while.

  ‘Well, well,’ he said at last. ‘A string to hang an earl. It is difficult to credit, and yet I must do so. The question is, how to deal with the situation.’

  ‘Cola must be stopped and Bristol punished.’

  Mr Bennet looked at me with contempt. ‘Yes, of course. It is easier said than done, however. Do you know what Cola’s plans are?’

  ‘Not in detail.’

  ‘How he communicates with Lord Bristol?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Whether there be any letters or hard evidence that he has ever done so?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you expect me to do what? Charge His Lordship with high treason, perhaps? You forget, perhaps, that just as I am your patron, so he is mine. If I am to break with him then I must justify myself absolutely, or be accused of perfidy. If Lord Bristol falls, half the court falls with him, and there will be few restraints on Clarendon and even fewer on the king. The economy of the entire government will be disrupted and crippled. I tell you, Dr Wallis, I find it hard to credit that the man can risk so much.’

  ‘He does. He must be stopped and you must take his place.’

  Bennet looked at me.

  ‘I do not flatter you, or tell you anything you do not feel in your own heart. Your value to His Majesty is well known. Your usefulness in balancing the interests of Lord Clarendon would be equally clear. Lord Bristol’s lack of moderation has prevented him from doing that. You can, and can do so the better if you are free of his foolishness. You have to break with him and pull him down yourself. If you do not, you can be certain that he will fall anyway, and you will go down with him.’

  Still he stared at me, but I was emboldened to continue, for I knew that I was speaking to his soul. ‘You are bound to him as a man who has brought you up, and advanced you,
and I know you have repaid that debt loyally and well. But you are not obliged to aid him in evil, and his attempt at such a thing dissolves all ties.’

  Finally he reacted to my words, and rested his head in his hands, his elbows on the desk, the most informal posture I had ever seen him adopt. ‘Throw the dice, you think, Doctor? And if Clarendon is killed anyway and Bristol actually succeeds? What mercy for me and mine, then? Have you thought how long you would retain your position?

  ‘Not many weeks. But I doubt I would live long in any case, so the loss of office would be a minor problem for me.’

  ‘I have long considered what my true degree should be at court. You no doubt think me ambitious, and so I am. But I am also a good servant to His Majesty, and whatever my own beliefs, I have always advised him for the best. I deserve the highest places in the land. Clarendon has always blocked me, as he blocks all who are younger and more agile than he. And you tell me that I have to abandon a man who has always been kind to me, and keep in power one who detests the very air I breathe?’

  ‘I am not saying you should keep him in power. I am merely pointing out that you must not in any way associate yourself with his murder and to stay silent is such an association.’

  Mr Bennet considered, then gave way, as I knew he would in due course.

  ‘Do you plan to confront Lord Bristol, or inform Lord Clarendon?’ I asked.

  ‘The latter. I have no desire to level accusations. Others can do that. Come, Dr Wallis. You must come as well.’

  I had never before met the Lord Chancellor of England in person although I had, naturally, seen him on numerous occasions. His grotesque corpulence did not surprise me, although the ease with which we gained access to him did. He maintained little formality about his person; no doubt his years in exile, when he lived a hand-to-mouth existence and often even had to do without so much as a servant, had taught him the virtues of simplicity – although I noted that similar deprivation had imparted no such lesson to Mr Bennet.

  As Mr Thurloe had said, he was a man of the utmost loyalty to his master the king, who had on numerous occasions treated his servant shabbily, and was, in future years, to treat him more shabbily still. None the less, Clarendon stood resolutely by him, steering him away from such follies as he could. He worked tirelessly while in exile for His Majesty’s return, and strove mightily to keep him there once this great goal was accomplished. His great weakness was that which attends many older men, for he placed too great store on the wisdom of age. No doubt deference is a virtue, but to expect it without question is great foolishness and stirs up only resentment. Mr Bennet was one whom he had needlessly antagonised, for in their common good sense they were natural allies. But Clarendon blocked Bennet’s friends on all occasions, and would rarely allow the spoils of office to go to anyone outside his own circle.

  The antagonism between the two men was scarcely discernible, however. Mr Bennet’s punctiliousness and Clarendon’s natural gravity meant that anyone less observant or less knowing than myself would have assumed that relations between the two were entirely cordial. But they were far from that and I also knew that, underneath the coolness of his manner, Mr Bennet was certainly highly anxious of the outcome of this meeting.

  When dealing with matters of true importance, Mr Bennet was not a man to disguise his meaning with elaborate phrases or half-spoken implications. He introduced me as his servant and I bowed, then he announced curtly that I had a matter of the utmost importance to communicate. Clarendon’s eyes narrowed as he recalled who I was.

  ‘I am surprised to see you in such company, Doctor. You seem able to serve many masters.’

  ‘I serve God and the government, sir,’ I replied, ‘the former because it is my duty, the latter because I am asked to do so. Were my services not required and requested, I would happily live in pleasant obscurity.’

  He ignored this reply, and walked heavily about the room in which we had found him. Mr Bennet stood silently, a look of barely concealed disquiet on his face. He knew that his future rested entirely on how I conducted myself in the encounter.

  ‘D’ye find me fat, sir?’

  The question was obviously addressed to me. The Lord Chancellor of England came to rest in front of me, wheezing with the effort of taking a few steps, his hands resting on his hips as he spoke.

  I looked him steadily in the eye. ‘Of course I do,’ I said.

  He grunted with satisfaction, then hobbled over to his seat and sat down, gesturing to us that we might do the same.

  ‘Many men have looked me straight in the eye as you did and sworn blind that the resemblance to Adonis was extraordinary,’ he observed. ‘Such is the power of high office, it can even distort men’s sight, it seems. I throw such men out. Now, Mr Bennet, tell me what it is that makes you overcome your detestation for me. And why you bring this gentleman with you.’

  ‘I will allow Dr Wallis to speak, if that is agreeable to you. He has all the information at his fingertips, and it will sound better from him.’

  The Chancellor turned to me and I, once more, recited my tale as briefly as possible. Again I must confess all my weaknesses, for this narration is of no use if I behave in an Italian manner and leave out what is not in my interest. I did not tell Lord Clarendon about Sarah Blundy.

  I had lived with the facts for so long now that none of it even surprised me any more; it was instructive to see how more ordinary men (if I may for a moment call the Lord Chancellor such) reacted to accusations I now took for granted. Clarendon’s face grew stony and pale as I laid out my investigations and conclusions, his jaw clenched hard in anger and eventually he was unable even to look at the bearer of such news.

  There was a long, a very long, silence when I finished. Mr Bennet would not speak; the Chancellor, it seemed, could not. For my part, I considered my role over; I had done my task and reported my findings to those with the power to act. I was aware of the momentous thing I had done and realised anew the tremendous power of words, which can tumble men from on high in an instant and accomplish more in a few sentences than entire armies in a year’s campaign. For men are held above their fellows by the gossamer of reputation, which is so soft and fragile a breath can blow it away.

  Eventually Clarendon spoke, and subjected me to the closest interrogation I have ever endured in my life; he was a lawyer, and like all lawyers loved nothing more than the chance to show off his skills in questioning. My interrogation went on for the better part of an hour, and I answered as best I could, calmly and without resentment. Again I will be open about the matter, for the most part my answers satisfied him; but his skill probed my case mercilessly and whatever weaknesses existed were soon laid out for him to inspect.

  ‘So, Dr Wallis, your belief in Mr Cola’s military skills . . .’

  ‘Comes from a trader who conveyed him to Venice from Italy,’ I replied. ‘He had no reason to lie to me as he did not know my interest in the man. He was not of any breeding, but I consider him a reliable witness none the less. He reported what he saw and heard; my conclusions are in no part based on his opinions.’

  ‘And Cola’s links with radicals?’

  ‘Well attested by my informants in the Low Countries, and by my own servant. He also formed a strong connection with a notorious family in Oxford.’

  With Sir William Compton?’

  ‘He was seen by a reliable witness at Sir William’s house, and stayed there for many days. They discussed you on several occasions, the route you planned to take in a few weeks’ time, and expressed the hope you might be ambushed on the road.’

  ‘With My Lord Bristol?’

  ‘Sir William is of Lord Bristol’s interest, as I am sure you know . . .’

  ‘So is Mr Bennet here.’

  ‘I told Mr Bennet of my suspicions before I had any inkling of who Cola’s master was. He told Lord Bristol and within twenty-four hours my servant was murdered by Cola. I was myself the target of an attack a few days later.’

  ‘That is ins
ufficient.’

  ‘It is, but it is not all. Lord Bristol is known to favour a Spanish alliance, and Cola also has strong connections with the governor of the Netherlands; he is a known Catholic and hence does not acknowledge the authority of the king, parliament or the laws of this country. And it is not the first time he has attempted a foolish scheme. Moreover, his hand has guided a young man for some time in an attempt to attack you by destroying the reputation of Lord Mordaunt.’

  Eventually I had no more. Clarendon would be convinced or not. It is a strange business, trying to persuade a man he is to be killed; and it says much for Lord Clarendon that he wanted good reason before he would own himself satisfied. Many men lesser than he would have happily leapt at the suspicion and invented any extra evidence in order to destroy a rival.

  ‘But they have never met? No man has seen them together? There are no letters, no one has overheard any conversation between them?’

  I shook my head. ‘No; but I would doubt if it is likely. Common sense dictates that all contact be through a third party.’

  Clarendon leaned back in his chair, and I heard the joints creaking from the strain. Mr Bennet had sat quite impassively throughout, showing no sign of emotion on his face, neither helping me nor hindering me. He was entirely quiet until Clarendon turned to him.

  ‘You are convinced of this, sir?’

  ‘I am convinced you may well be in danger and that all possible means should be taken to prevent any harm coming to you.’

  ‘That is generous from a man who loves me so little.’

  ‘No. You are His Majesty’s closest minister, and it is the duty of all to protect you as the king himself. If the king chose to dismiss you, I would not exert myself to prevent your fall; you know that, I am sure. But it is as treasonable for anyone else to force His Majesty as it is criminal to kill a man outside the law. If Bristol wishes this, I will have none of him.’

  ‘Do you think he does? That is the question, is it not? I do not intend to sit here and see whether a knife in my back proves Dr Wallis correct. I cannot charge Lord Bristol with treason, for the case is not strong enough and the king would see any attempt to prosecute as a misuse of my office. And I will not adopt such methods myself.’