He sat back on his seat, his hands behind his head as he took in the immensely pleasing sight. All stood in glowering discomfort as the other watchmen tried to restrain their amusement. There was not one who did not have a bad bruise, a broken nose, or a bandage round his head. Holcroft sat back and stared, dumbfounded. It was when the men from Denbury appeared. It took no time at all, but today there was a long and pregnant pause. A man would walk up on hearing his name, and David would have the coins ready as soon as the hand was held out. He dropped the leather bag on the table-top, and as the clerk read out the amounts, he carefully counted out the pennies and slid them across the table. Now there were only the watchmen on foot. He had already seen to the mounted ones, they had all been paid at the stables where they were resting before making their way home. His clerk was there already, and Holcroft seated himself in the chair with his small sack jingling merrily, bellowing, “Come on, then!” Soon the men were sidling in. His duties as a port-reeve were almost at an end, his wife’s moodiness was explained at last, the murders had been solved, and the weather was excellent. It was with a light heart that David Holcroft walked into the room over the gatehouse to the Abbey. And then-who knows? Perhaps I will say yes.” Perhaps you could invite me to visit you with the bailiff and his wife when they next stay with you. “Sir Baldwin, you asked me whether I should like to see Furnshill. “So, lady, if you do not refuse me, but do not say ‘yes,’ what must I do to persuade you to agree to my offer?” An outright rejection he could have coped with a straightforward acceptance would have been preferable-although he candidly admitted to himself that it would have been almost as daunting-but this nebulous “maybe” was confusing. This was a new situation for him he was unsure how to continue.

The Abbot's Gibbet by Michael Jecks