![[Roger the Chapman 02] - The Plymouth Cloak](https://fs.ageofbook.com/477967/thumbs/152x264/roger-the-chapman-02-the-plymouth-cloak.jpg)
assured, I shall certainly keep my eyes open for any strangers about the manor. As for Silas Bywater, I think I know the man you mean. I recollect seeing him once in Master Underdown's company when I went to Plymouth for stores. My son was with me at the time.' She changed the subject abruptly, balking at memories which were too painful to bear.
'You'll keep what I've told you to yourself,' I urged. 'Although I think Alwyn may know something.'
She smiled. 'I don't gossip with kitchen-maids... What was that?' She rose suddenly from the table, one finger held up in warning. On silent feet, she crossed to the door and looked outside, while I watched her anxiously. After a moment or two she turned round with a shake of her head.
'There's no one there. I'm hearing things. In any case,' she added optimistically, 'I don't think anyone could have overheard us. We've been keeping our voices low.' Relieved, but not quite convinced, I went outside to see for myself. The courtyard was still busy - the logs which I had earlier heard being carted up the track were now safely unloaded and stowed beneath the undercroft - but there was no one near the kitchen. I went back inside to finish the last of the doucettes. As I did so, I remembered something and opened the pouch attached to my belt, pulling out the limp, withering stem of knotgrass.
'This is what Silas Bywater asked me to give Master Underdown. Does it mean anything to you?'
The housekeeper picked it up and stared curiously at it before shaking her head. 'It's just knotgrass, as you told me. It's a common enough weed.'
'My mother once told me that it was poisonous.' Mistress Overy looked doubtful. 'I've never heard that said of it. But I don't know everything,' she admitted cheerfully, 'and your mother could have been right.' She put her head on one side, considering me. 'I thought you said Philip Underdown threw it away after you'd shown it to him. If that was the case, how do you still come to have it?'
'I picked it up and put it in my pouch when he wasn't looking. Don't ask me why. I suppose I was just curious about it and the effect it had on him. I could see that it meant something, even though he strenuously denied it. I'd forgotten about it until just now. Here, I'll get rid of it.'
I carried the grass to the door and tossed it outside. A small breeze caught it, whirling it up into the air, then dropping it in the dust of the courtyard.
'I'm keeping you from your work,' I said. 'Thank you for the food and for listening to me. I'll go now.'
'Get some rest,' she advised me, 'like your so-called master. James and Luke should have taken the truckle-bed up to your room by now. I'll send one of them to wake you if I see or hear anything suspicious. After being up all night, you must be tired.'
I acknowledged the fact and thanked her yet again. I was glad I had told her the truth. Janet Overy was a capable woman, and I trusted her ability to do as she had promised.
Furthermore, there was a good stout lock on the bedroom chamber door and a key to go with it. Neither Philip nor I could be surprised by anyone, provided I shut the window, for the vine worried me a little. When I reached the room, I found that the truckle-bed had indeed been set up against one wall, but its arrival appeared not to have disturbed my companion, who was still snoring lustily.
I laid down my cudgel, kicked off my boots and, without even stopping to remove my jacket, dropped on to the narrow mattress and was soon as soundly asleep as Philip. And, for all I know, as loudly snoring.
The sun was high in the sky when I awoke, and pouring in through the leaded panes of the window. Philip was sitting up on his bed, watching me closely.
'Ah,' he said, swinging his feet to the ground, 'you're awake at last, are you? I've been thinking.'
I was barely attending to his words, caught as I was by the sudden realization that I had exchanged one prison for another; the Turk's Head for Trenowth Manor, and
'You'll keep what I've told you to yourself,' I urged. 'Although I think Alwyn may know something.'
She smiled. 'I don't gossip with kitchen-maids... What was that?' She rose suddenly from the table, one finger held up in warning. On silent feet, she crossed to the door and looked outside, while I watched her anxiously. After a moment or two she turned round with a shake of her head.
'There's no one there. I'm hearing things. In any case,' she added optimistically, 'I don't think anyone could have overheard us. We've been keeping our voices low.' Relieved, but not quite convinced, I went outside to see for myself. The courtyard was still busy - the logs which I had earlier heard being carted up the track were now safely unloaded and stowed beneath the undercroft - but there was no one near the kitchen. I went back inside to finish the last of the doucettes. As I did so, I remembered something and opened the pouch attached to my belt, pulling out the limp, withering stem of knotgrass.
'This is what Silas Bywater asked me to give Master Underdown. Does it mean anything to you?'
The housekeeper picked it up and stared curiously at it before shaking her head. 'It's just knotgrass, as you told me. It's a common enough weed.'
'My mother once told me that it was poisonous.' Mistress Overy looked doubtful. 'I've never heard that said of it. But I don't know everything,' she admitted cheerfully, 'and your mother could have been right.' She put her head on one side, considering me. 'I thought you said Philip Underdown threw it away after you'd shown it to him. If that was the case, how do you still come to have it?'
'I picked it up and put it in my pouch when he wasn't looking. Don't ask me why. I suppose I was just curious about it and the effect it had on him. I could see that it meant something, even though he strenuously denied it. I'd forgotten about it until just now. Here, I'll get rid of it.'
I carried the grass to the door and tossed it outside. A small breeze caught it, whirling it up into the air, then dropping it in the dust of the courtyard.
'I'm keeping you from your work,' I said. 'Thank you for the food and for listening to me. I'll go now.'
'Get some rest,' she advised me, 'like your so-called master. James and Luke should have taken the truckle-bed up to your room by now. I'll send one of them to wake you if I see or hear anything suspicious. After being up all night, you must be tired.'
I acknowledged the fact and thanked her yet again. I was glad I had told her the truth. Janet Overy was a capable woman, and I trusted her ability to do as she had promised.
Furthermore, there was a good stout lock on the bedroom chamber door and a key to go with it. Neither Philip nor I could be surprised by anyone, provided I shut the window, for the vine worried me a little. When I reached the room, I found that the truckle-bed had indeed been set up against one wall, but its arrival appeared not to have disturbed my companion, who was still snoring lustily.
I laid down my cudgel, kicked off my boots and, without even stopping to remove my jacket, dropped on to the narrow mattress and was soon as soundly asleep as Philip. And, for all I know, as loudly snoring.
The sun was high in the sky when I awoke, and pouring in through the leaded panes of the window. Philip was sitting up on his bed, watching me closely.
'Ah,' he said, swinging his feet to the ground, 'you're awake at last, are you? I've been thinking.'
I was barely attending to his words, caught as I was by the sudden realization that I had exchanged one prison for another; the Turk's Head for Trenowth Manor, and
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