Tom Browning's Schooldays

Tom Browning's Schooldays

By

Joel

Chapter ThirtyThree

I must have been sleeping very soundly as I did not hear Benjy, Eamonn and the twins come in with the pitchers of hot water. This meant by the time Benjy had poked me in the side and tweaked my nose to wake me Robin was in my bath, attended to by a preoccupied Eamonn. Robin was being well-lathered on his back and I could see my piece of precious soap was diminishing fast. Not to worry, however, as dear Jabez had said he would put two of the pieces I had been using at Charles Street into my box which would accompany my mother in the coach on her return.

There was much giggling when they saw I was awake, sitting up with what must have been a rather annoyed look. The twins bowed their heads and scurried off to other tasks. Eamonn handed the washcloth to Benjy and also departed, still smiling. I didn't like being woken up suddenly. I then realised that I was naked in bed. Neither Robin nor I had bothered to don our nightshirts after our loving releases before sleep overtook us. Luckily, mine had been used to clean ourselves so the bed sheet shouldn't be stained. I waited until Robin had stepped from the bath and was being dried with a large white towel before I got out of bed. Luckily again, my usually unruly stalk was more or less quiescent now and, unusually, I felt no great need to piss. I sauntered over to the bath and dipped a finger into it. As it had been set by the fire it had not cooled too much. So far nothing had been said. Even Benjy, who was normally most talkative, was silent. I stepped into the bath and sat and wondered what comments might ensue as I had been likened to a piglet in a salt pan the night before. Still nothing. I crooked a finger at Benjy who came over with the washcloth and picked up the remaining sliver of soap and began to lather my back.

That done Benjy moved to wash down my chest and belly which meant I did not notice Robin's actions behind me. He picked up one of the pitchers which had some remaining water and upended it over my head. Luckily, once more; it was still quite hot, so the water cascaded down rinsing most of the suds away.

"Milord will be clean all over," Robin intoned as I spluttered and shook my wet head, "Last night and today we have washed away the stench and dirt of London Town."

I could not disagree. When in London I found I had to change my shirt after each journey out as the collar and cuffs were quite grubby on my return. The white kid gloves I had worn to the service in the Cathedral were stained black on the fingers when I took them off. I knew there was constant laundering going on in my uncle's house as my shirts and underclothes were returned clean and pressed every day. I had noted the soapy smell from somewhere below stairs even above the other odours as one went to the Mews. Although our laundry maids were kept busy here at Careby the things to be washed did not start out so grimed as in London.

"Pray, vassal," I said as Benjy finished rinsing me down, "Bring me a fresh dry towel which has not been used on my young nephew."

That set off more giggles. "At your service, Majesty," said Benjy who managed to slap the towel across my backside as I stepped from the bath. He and Robin then wrapped it around my head as well and tripped me full length on the floor. I struggled with them as they dried me and my rascally nephew not only held my arms tight within the folds but someone flicked my poor exposed pizzle with a flapping end of the cloth before drying that sweet organ of mine most roughly. Of course, such treatment had only one effect.

"Your poor old uncle is limp as a worn-out dishrag I see," said Benjy and I was not certain whose fingers then encircled my upright stem and made me even harder.

"Poor thing," I heard Robin say, "This has had a hard life and there's not much life in it." It must have been his fingers as the encircling movements became more rapid. I could do nothing but enjoy the feelings which welled up and then my hips jerked as I spurted a good three times. There was more silence and, naturally, my stem wilted slowly but surely while the cruel pair still held me down. "Look, it is so ashamed of itself 'tis like a little mouse going back to it's hole." Dear Robin would be repaid for his attempt at analogy, metaphor or simile. I was not sure in what way, but there would be retribution of an exacting kind.

I was rolled out of the towel and felt two slaps to my backside which would also have to be repaid. To each their own. I looked up at two grinning faces.

"You will need to be cleansed again," said Robin grabbing the washcloth from the edge of the bath. "Although I say it, my old uncle is quite generous in his offering, is that not so, Benjamin?"

"That is true, sire." He gave a mock bow as he took the washcloth and quite gently removed the evidence of their assault on my now quiescent peg. "It must be the influence of all that good food and drink he's consumed in such high society while we have had just our usual country fare." He was not gentle then as my belly received a sharp flick from the end of the washcloth. I said nothing. Benjamin would be dealt with later. Being silent meant they would wonder what retribution would be meted out. I would have to plan that carefully.

Boys' sports could not be continued as we heard the church clock strike seven. Benjy shook his head. "I must go or Mr Clements will give me a clout for not being at the serving hatch. He's been out of sorts over something these last few days. I fear it may be over Mary Ann but I will have to enquire quietly. I will tell you when I know."

He went off and Robin and I dressed side by side. He looked at me sideways once or twice, wondering, I supposed, if I might retaliate in some way when his trousers were still at half mast or his shirt was covering his head. He made sure his shirt was tucked in and put his cloth braces over his shoulders. I looked at him fondly, though, just for a moment, as I had planning to do.

As he tied his boot laces he sniggered and I waited to hear the reason. "I wager our Mary Ann's had a taste of that Flaxman's pizzle and there is a consequence," he said and stood up.

"But that takes time," I said, "How long has he been home at the inn?"

Robin nodded. "Not long enough so my conjecture is most probably wrong. But I think she has lured him on as he has a good future if he takes on his uncle's inn. Perhaps she has allowed some access to her maidenly wares and her grandfather has disapproved."

I was highly amused. "Robin, you have evil thoughts. Though I would not know what wares she had on offer, sightly or unsightly. I've only seen that Bessie Phillips throwing her skirts in the air and did not feel it to be a pretty spectacle although I have observed certain consequences in some of the lads watching." Indeed I had noted on more than one occasion there was evidence of stiffening within britches amongst those goading her into action.

"I do not consider those thoughts as evil, merely as suppositions resulting from snatches of conversations I have heard." There was another snigger from Robin. "Also I made my own observation when I was sent one evening last week to the Varley Arms for a small bottle of brandy which my mother needed for a posset."

"And what did you see?" I asked, tying my neckerchief and staring into the glass at my neat self.

"Oh, just Mary Ann and a certain young gentleman in rather close contact. Although one arm was on her back holding her, his other hand was exploring somewhere else."

Robin was standing behind me and a hand came round me to stroke me where his fingers had been only a few minutes before. I must not get hard again, I thought.

"You could see this?" I queried. I moved away from those stimulating fingers.

"Quite clearly," he said using the same fingers to brush his hair away from his brow. "The pair were behind an open door at the Arms and as they were so engrossed I peeped round and the moonlight showed them plain and simple." He turned and faced me. "And I heard poor Jackson say to Bobby when I was in the stable that Jesse Flaxman had beaten him to the finishing post."

"Not so poor Jackson," I said, "He's after that Primrose Cutts. Isn't she the one who serves in Mr Hine's shop sometimes?"

"Yes, she does and she draws in certain customers. I think Mr Hine has a row of young men a-shopping these days. I've seen four with those coloured kerchiefs he has displayed. There's a battle on for sure because there's a few who wouldn't mind a tussle with young Miss Cutts and we know Jackson had his eye blacked. "

"Tell me who else?"

Robin laughed. "In that first skirmish we know it was Tolly Potter. He still vows vengeance for his sore cods. I've heard that Moke Wilson and that new lad at the farmstead are vying for attention as well." He held up four fingers. "I've seen all four at times with those red-spotted kerchiefs round their scrawny necks. We must see if there are more."

I did not know this new lad who had come with the family which had been turned out because of lack of rent money. Moke Wilson was well-named. He was big all over and having seen him exercising the horses in the river last summer I wondered if he might even compare with Jabez. It was said he could dip his pizzle in a quart pot and it would not touch the bottom. I did not know if that was an idle boast but I had heard it said by Isaac at the forge. As he was not supposed to drink ale, how did he know? There might be a fifth. Rowley Roberts. But he was on his way back from London today.

I was not too interested in Miss Cutts and her paramours. I wanted to know more about the progress with the installation of the new-fangled jakes and also what we might do today. It was time for our breakfast so I patted my empty stomach and said we could make plans as we sat and ate.

We heard talking as we approached the door to the breakfast room. Torquil and Geoffrey were already there and discussing their day as well. My brother was bemoaning the fact that his accoutrements would not be arriving until later but told us he and Geoffrey would, if possible, go the stables with father to see which horses would be suitable for a new Cornet of Horse and his batman. He would require two good mounts for himself plus one for Mark Dawson to take back to the barracks in London as Phineas was to be at stud. So he needed our father to be in a good mood. I took the hint and would keep any unwise comments to myself. Geoffrey said that young Timmy should come as he wished to see the mount he had chosen for Mr Dimbleby and whether he could chose an acceptable horse for his brother.

I said we had also been summoned to see Miss Barnes and, as Timmy was required there as well, I asked if we might accompany them to the stables. This was agreed. It was now a matter for my father to concur with all the business and its cost, but I and Robin kept out of that discussion between the pair as our plates were filled.

Father was behind times this morning. He arrived some minutes later with hair tousled and an old neckerchief loosely tied round his throat. It was a mystery from which old closet his riding clothes had come. My mother was not to see him today so he was wearing what he wished! He was in a good mood. We greeted him and Torquil asked quickly if he agreed with the plan of campaign as outlined. Father said that all the choosing should be done this morning early as he had to see if the stables were still there and not sold off in his absence by those rogues Mead and Temple.

'Temple'. My ears pricked up. Should I mention that place? Better not as it would prove a distraction. In any case all talk between the older ones was now about horses. I grinned at Robin, who nodded, and I continued eating in silence.

Even Torquil did not rise to the bait implied by 'rogues'. Both Mr Temple and Mr Mead had been in my father's employ for many years so that epithet did not apply. I think father was waiting for some response, which was not forthcoming. A change of subject was needed.

"My bedroom is disarranged," he said, "Half the panelling is off and someone has been drawing on the wall beneath. I did find a half-decent pair of britches in my closet which has lost it's back. One of the pots was out of true in the commode, and that's been moved quite askew."

"What was the drawing, father?" Torquil asked, "Nothing unseemly, I hope, as at least I was not responsible this time."

My father glared at him. "We know what artistry you are capable of, young man! Mrs Matthews was at her Dr Johnson to find that 'strumpet' was not something in the village band and your depiction of the backside of a horse would not have merited any showing in that Gallery in London."

"But she had called me a dirty little wretch and all I had done was to have a piss against the wall by the gate to the Manor as I was bursting." He laughed. "She came out in her chaise and saw me before I could button up." He looked at Geoffrey who was suppressing a smile. "You would have done the same, eh?"

"I have done many times, but not been spied upon, I hope." He looked as intrigued as I was, for I had not heard this tale.

"But it was what you did next that might have caused me trouble. I did more than call you wretch!" our father said but with a smile.

"But father, I was only twelve and I didn't really know what that word meant only I had heard what the grooms said about that Betty Pearce..."

"...Yes, we know about Betty Pearce and her doings. That did not excuse you especially as Ellie Matthews' brother visited her the next day and saw what you had chalked on the wall."

"How was I to know he was some old parson who then ranted on about the evil in the village as soon as he got into our pulpit."

My father laughed. "At least they did not know you were my son. And more so as you could spell!"

"So Mrs Matthews still doesn't know it was Torquil?" I asked.

"No, she accused every boy she saw after that except for me and dear Terence," Torquil said with a grin.

"I have heard elephants have a long memory," I said, "I'm not saying that Mrs Matthews..."

My father guffawed. "Boy! Say no more. I have waited this morning for your mouth to open other than to fork in more food and you haven't disappointed me." He gave another snort of laughter. "Geoffrey, I hope you are not offended at all this loose talk."

Geoffrey was grinning also. "Sir, according to my father my own misdemeanours would more than match that. I and a friend did steal some gunpowder from the Militia magazine and destroyed part of a barn pretending it was the Parliament. We did get beaten for that, not for the stealing, but my father said we could be sent to the Tower for treason. He was jesting, but at thirteen you believe everything your father says."

"And you do not now?" my father asked, then pointed at me. "This one is fourteen and has not believed anything I have said since the age of seven I am sure."

"Father, you disparage me," I said, "I have followed every word of yours as if each were the Gospel truth. Even when you told me I wasn't born but found in a cabbage patch grubbing for worms. I was seven then so I suppose I had suspicions. Still, I have given you the benefit of the doubt ever since."

"I did not know that was your provenance," said Robin, "Grubbing for worms, eh? That explains your fondness for Mrs Gray's fried chitterlings. You finished off that last plateful before anyone else could have any."

Father was laughing at that. "That is most probably true. He believes in food. He eats not to live, but lives to eat! Is that not so, son?"

"I am growing, father, and I need sustenance," I said as the others laughed as well. "I notice my brother is full-grown but his appetite more than matches my own."

Torquil grinned at me. "I may be full-grown but I have to eat to keep up my strength. In any case there is more of me than you, young man, so I need good feeding like any of our father's stock."

I gave him a small sneer but thought it was true as he was bigger than me. He was not only taller and brawnier but was also more equipped than I was in one principal part and I only wished to equal him. I could not refer to that but the thought, even though I had spurted not forty or so minutes before, was causing a stirring in my britches. I asked for another dish of tea to prevent any further stiffness.

There was no more baiting of me. Robin would be dealt with over the plate of chitterlings later but talk was once more about horses. Neither Robin nor I took interest, so when I had finished mopping up the juices on my plate with more bread and saw he was finished, too, I politely said we should go and find Timmy. I also needed to find Mrs Bottom and give her the parcel from Jabez which I fetched from my bedroom.

Both Mrs Bottom and Timmy were in the kitchen. After greeting her and Mrs Gray I gave her the present from Jabez. She smiled but there were tears in her eyes. "I do miss that boy," she said, "But I have my Caleb home for a while. And there's my new boy Timmy as well. I am a lucky woman." She held up the parcel. "I will keep this and open it when I am home with Bottom. Though he says little he misses his dear son as well. I will keep it in the stillroom until I return home. I must go there now to see what preserves we have for the tarts Mrs Gray will be preparing." She bustled off, smiling at the package she was holding.

Timmy was helping Mrs Gray and one of the kitchen-maids to prepare potatoes and carrots for the evening meal. Mrs Gray said we would be having a fine dinner on Saturday evening when my mother had returned and there would be some sixteen or so to be seated as before. I mouthed 'more food' at Robin who grinned and took up the piece of treacle tart Mrs Gray had placed on the table for us. 'Now,' he mouthed back.

We asked Mrs Gray's permission to take Timmy away as he was needed to accompany the party to the stables and to see Miss Barnes with us. "Master Tom," he said, "I must ask to finish this task and I will be ready in a moment or two. Dr Lancelot asked last night if you would take a jar of ointment and a bottle of a mixture when we go to Miss Barnes. You had gone to bed and he had forgotten to ask you."

I said we could do that but did he know if Miss Barnes was ill.

He shook his head. "I think Miss Barnes is well but one of her maidservants has an eruption on her leg and another has a wheezing in her chest."

Mrs Gray had heard that. "Those poor old ducks are much too aged to be working at that house still. They won't leave Miss Barnes and go to the Almshouses. I fear one o' these days..." She shook her head and we knew what she meant.

Timmy put down the knife he was holding and smiled at the big girl next to him at the table. "Have I your permission to go, Miss Mabel? I have finished this basket of carrots."

I recognised the girl. It was Mabel Cutts, Primrose's older sister. Even to my youthful eyes I could see she was pretty like her sister. She had a clear complection and as she smiled at Timmy I saw the dimples in her cheeks. Perhaps those lads might clamour after her!

"Oh, Timmy," she said, "You have done those well. The pigs will go hungry as you have made the peelings so thin."

Mrs Gray laughed. "Poor boy, he may feel neglected now that Mrs Bottom has her Caleb at home."

Timmy smiled at her. "No, ma'am, I feel even more accepted as she said she has her son and she has me as well now. I slept here last night so she could have good conversation with him." He bowed his head. "He said I had made his mother so cheerful and he would think of me as a young brother. I would not ask more."

I thought that Timmy had that way with people. I brushed aside any thought of that evil Black Jack. He had been incapable of seeing the broad seam of goodness in the boy. Here at Careby Timmy was flourishing. My cousin Lancelot had taken him under his wing, too. I had sensed the underlying cleverness of the lad. He would be no ordinary person.

Robin had finished eating a second piece of the delicious tart. "I am ready, are you?" he said with a grin. "Timmy, you will need a warm cloak." Timmy said he had a good cloak in the passageway. We bid Mrs Gray and the girls good day and said we would be back for luncheon. She just shook her head knowing about boys and food.

Father was at the Hall stable already and instructing Bobby over some matter. There was another young man there, too. We were introduced to Mark Dawson, a well-set-up young man, and like George and Geoffrey, flaxen-haired. He was to be Geoffrey's batman if accepted as a trooper. I think we warmed to him immediately but had difficulty in understanding his broad North-country accent.

I gathered father was more than satisfied with the mount he had taken to London and back and wanted it housed ready for him here. I asked if it had a name yet as all I had heard on our journeys were just commands, whereas I knew my dear Blaze responded to his name when called or stroked.

"What do you think I should call him?" he asked as Robin went up to the tethered beast and stroked his muzzle.

"We could see how he nods to a name," Robin said. He said 'Apollo', then 'Achilles' but the horse just stood still.

I tried 'Jason' and 'Hermes' but there was just a twitch of it's withers.

Father said 'Cassius' quietly and the stallion responded immediately. It's head went up and he neighed loudly. That was that. He was named. Of course, I thought, he has been responding to my father's voice on two long journeys so recognised him. Father laughed and said the horse knew his own name all along. He did give me a nudge so I knew my surmise was not too far off the truth.

Timmy's Tarquin responded to him just as Silver and Blaze did to Robin and me. A pony had already been chosen for Mark as the mount he had arrived on had gone on to the main stable with the other two, Torquil's Phineas and Geoffrey's black gelding. Bobby had saddled our three and checked that our girths were tight after we had mounted. He then saddled Cassius and I could sense my father was getting impatient. It was to be another couple of minutes before the tardy pair of Torquil and Geoffrey appeared, so the two were left with the ponies which were used by anyone needing a quick ride to the village or to the main stables. Father said he thought they were most appropriate for two youngsters who needed a lesson or two.

I knew what he meant. Both ponies had been schooled to do a few tricks. One of these was if the pony was tapped on the shoulder, even while cantering, it would stop suddenly and rear up. Father winked at me as we set off. Since the track was wide to begin with so father rode on the left of Geoffrey with Torquil next to him and me as outrider on his right. Bobby had opened the gate to the first pasture and as it was thinly covered in snow we set off walking then moved to a trot. I knew my role in the jape. Father was kind today. It had been done on many an unsuspecting rider, usually at a canter, and they ended up unseated or hanging on with feet still in the stirrups. Father raised his riding crop and I matched him on my side but with mine in my left hand. Together we tapped the shoulders of the ponies. They did as they'd been trained. They stopped but their riders didn't. If Cedric Branscombe knew many sailors' oaths Torquil and Geoffrey also knew plenty, military or otherwise.

Father pulled up Cassius and looked at the pair who were sitting in the snow. "My, my," he said with such a straight face, "Major Browning, you will get a wet backside down there and your companion would frighten any enemy with those shouts."

Robin was laughing out loud for he had witnessed ploys like this before. Timmy looked concerned. He halted Tarquin and handed his rein to Robin as he dismounted. He hadn't seen such a performance and must have imagined the pair might have come to some harm. I think Mark Dawson had seen a trick like this before as he remained seated and grinned at Robin.

Timmy went up to Geoffrey. "Sir, may I assist you. Please take my arm. Did your horse take fright at something?"

Geoffrey showed he was a good sport. He had now guessed it was a jape. "Timmy, I am thankful you are here. Help me up." He brushed the snow from the seat of his britches. "I will talk to Mr Browning about the best way to school young horses, as I see he is an expert."

Torquil's pride was a little hurt I fear. He gave me such an evil look as I dismounted to give him a hand. "I'll tan your bloody arse!" he said quietly through gritted teeth. However, his good nature took over as I just grinned at him. He shook his head. "That was father's doing, eh?" I nodded. "You're forgiven." He went over to Geoffrey who was laughing now. "My father's idea of a jest," he said, "I should have guessed when he asked if I had cloth or leather on today. I told him best Scotch cloth and he just laughed. My backside is damp!"

They mounted again and kept well away from either father or me. I heard Robin explaining to Timmy how the ponies had been trained and they could also be commanded to kneel and to lie down. I had shown Paul and Philemon that trick when they had visited and they wanted a repetition of the action each time we subsequently went to the stable.

All the grooms were very busy at the main stables. The first group, destined for the omnibus companies, were being schooled to work in pairs. Others were in the ring, being introduced to orders while on a rein. There was much activity in the inner stables with brushing and currying and oiling of hooves. A string of four were being readied to be taken to the forge for shoeing and being young were frisky. Quite suddenly there was a raucous neighing and a shrill whinny from a side stable where a mare was being serviced by one of the stallions. A typical day at a busy establishment.

Mr Jarvis appeared and touched his tall hat as he greeted my father. His arm was no longer in a sling though he didn't move it much.

After greeting him my father asked if the arm was healed. "It is, sir," he said, "Dr Lancelot looked at it on Saturday and was well-pleased. He said I should not use it too much as I have to wait for the fibres to strengthen."

"Any more vagrants around?" father asked.

Mr Jarvis shook his head and smiled. "The message gets round quickly. We are well- guarded and two who thought to explore had a good fright when a shotgun was fired from one of our hides."

Father was nodding. Our stock was valuable and, as we had recently experienced an attempt at horse-rustling, constant vigilance was required.

Torquil was greeted warmly as he and one of Mr Jarvis's sons were of an age and had been taught to ride together under his tutelage. Geoffrey was introduced and although given his Honourable title there was no bowing and scraping. I knew that Mr Jarvis had recommended horses for Lord Harford and was well-known for his expertise in horse-rearing so had an air of authority which even the most over-bearing of the gentry recognised. Geoffrey was not like that and both he and Torquil were soon in earnest conversation about the mounts they needed and I saw they included Mark Dawson in this. I heard Phineas being mentioned and Mr Jarvis was nodding vigorously.

We other three followed father to the offices where Mr Mead and Mr Temple were busy with their clerks. Young Georgie Mead was there, too, copying letters. I asked him where his friend Billy Temple was. He said he was helping the new lad at Mr Goodhew's. He was learning the craft as well. Yes, Billy was a steady boy and I could see it would be a fine thing if he was also apprenticed to Steven Goodhew as well as Liam.

Father was closeted with the two managers for some time so we three wandered out to look at the schooling going on. Robin said we could go into the warmth of the stables to see the mount chosen for Mr Dimbleby. I said we should wait until the others joined us and Timmy agreed. Robin was flapping his arms about himself saying it was too cold for comfort. We went back to the offices and helped ourselves to beakers of hot tea from the pot which was always bubbling on the trivet in the hearth. It was both hot and strong! But at least it silenced the moans.

When father had finished he came out of the inner office and saw us with the beakers. "Do you know, Timmy, what they put in that to make it taste, eh?" he asked as the lad looked at him rather startled. I expected father to be vulgar and then say something like 'horse-piss' as I had heard that before, but not from him.

"As well as plain tea it has camomile and some vervain I would say, sir," Timmy said as he held up his beaker. That reply nonplussed my father.

Mr Temple had followed father out and laughed. "The boy's correct," he said, "My wife says it will prevent the catching of a cold and keeps one calm in busy times."

Timmy looked at him and nodded. "Sir, if there was some peppermint added it would aid good breathing as well."

"Yes, my boy, my wife makes a good peppermint cordial that her father taught her. I will recommend that advice to her."

Father was looking at Timmy with great interest. Whatever he was going to say was gone. I think, as Uncle Dodd would have said, he was 'hoist with his own petard'.

"Then I must try this mixture," he said with a guffaw, "If I do not catch cold I shall make you and Mrs Temple my personal apothecaries. Mrs Browning always says I must keep calm, too!" Mr Temple poured him a steaming beaker. He sniffed at it then took it all down in one great gulp. "Definitely warms the pipes first," he said as he wiped the back of his hand across his lips. "Come on lads, we must go and choose." He grabbed Timmy by the shoulder. "And you are the leader!" The poor lad looked shocked.

"Oh, sir," he murmured.

Mr Temple was laughing as we left. We gathered up Torquil, Geoffrey and Mark Dawson with Mr Jarvis and made our way to see the horse chosen for Mr Dimbleby. There was no mistaking the young gelding because as we entered one of the side stables and looked at the two rows of heads looking at us there was a neighing and as Timmy went up to one it almost knelt to greet him. Mr Jarvis took one look.

"That's one I would recommend as well. He's obedient and good-tempered and will respond well to a well-disposed rider." He went up to stand by Timmy and stroked the young horse's muzzle. "He's a two-year-old and come from good stock. He's out of Leda by that roan stallion we had from Grantham. What do you want to call him?"

"That I do not know, sir," Timmy said and turned to Robin and me. As if we were twins, as Leda's sons the Dioskouroi were, we both said 'Castor' simultaneously. The gelding neighed and it's head went up and down as if in agreement. That was settled. There was a nod between my father and Mr Jarvis as my father raised five fingers twice.

"You must be a drover again," he said, "Castor will accompany you to that school of yours."

That was not all as more choices had to be made. Another of the geldings was chosen for George, so that both Robin and I would have a horse to lead back to Ashbourne. We looked then at the stallions and older geldings. No waiting there as four were chosen immediately by Geoffrey and Mark. Torquil said he would wait until nearer the time to leave for his return before he chose. He looked at Timmy who smiled and nodded to a fine black stallion with a set of pure white fetlocks. Torquil nodded back. His choice had been made for him. We left the stable and I said we three would ride on to see Miss Barnes. It was then we heard a commotion.

"Fucking hell," we heard a shout as two of the grooms dragged a protesting bedraggled young man across the yard. Two other grooms were struggling with another by the fence.

The swearing youngster was thrown roughly at my father's feet as another of the grooms held him down with a hefty cudgel against his throat.

"Mr Browning, sir," the cudgel-bearer said, touching his cap with his free hand, "We found these two varmints a-creeping along that hedge. No business to be here, I say, we don't know 'em."

The other one who looked even more unkempt and soiled was grunting as he was also thrust to the ground. Father strode up to the pair and looked down.

"Who are you, fellow?" he asked, "You don't look like a horse thief, eh?"

The lad looked up with wide-open eyes. "Sir, I ain't no horse thief. Please, sir, do not let my brother be hurt, he has no wits."

Our attention moved to the other one. His eyes were rolling in their sockets and the grunting noise must have been his attempt at speaking. My father raised a finger at the cudgel-bearer.

"Let him up and we shall find out what their business is."

The lad got up unsteadily but stood straight and looked at father. "Thank you, sir, I would be glad to tell our story."

The other one was released and he lumbered up. I could see he was no danger as he was twitching and his tongue lolled from his mouth.

"We are listening," my father said, "Be quick, though, as we have much work to do."

The lad bowed his head, then looked unswervingly at my father. "Sir, I am looking for a position so that I may look after my brother. We have walked from Bitchfield Hall where we were cast out when my mother died six weeks ago..."

I saw my father's brow furrow. "...Bitchfield Hall?" he interrupted, "That is Mr Cavendish's estate?"

The lad nodded. "My mother was his second cook but took sick and we buried her in November. Our father died two years ago of a fever. He was a gardener in Mr Cavendish's employ." The way he said that name I knew there was a sad tale to come. "Mr Cavendish wanted my mother's cottage and as I had no employment he said we should go."

"No employment?" my father asked.

"Sir, I have looked after my brother since he was small. I have no other skill than that I can read and write."

"How old are you both?" was the next question.

"I am sixteen near seventeen and my brother is just fifteen. He cannot speak and does not know where he is most times. He would not harm a soul but I am afeared if I left him he would be dead in a few days as he has no wit in him."

It was interesting that the lad spoke up with no hesitation and though his accent was countrified he spoke clearly. Father was looking at the lad intently.

"Why did you come this way?"

"Sir, there was talk that Job Williams and Richard Grice had found employment hereabouts."

Father looked so angry then. "Were they cast out for not being able to pay their rent?"

The lad nodded. I thought he would burst into tears. "Sir, that is true. Job Williams is my uncle and does not know his sister is dead."

Father turned to the grooms. "You, Robert, take them to the stable and find them some victuals. John, you ride to the rectory and tell my sister the tale and say her help is needed. Jacob, go and find Mr Williams and tell him he should come at once. You know where he is?" That groom nodded. Father looked at the elder lad. "I will say no more than I believe your tale. My condolences are for you and your brother over the death of your mother. We shall have to see how things fare. My sister is the Rector's wife and she will no doubt call you to her presence. If Williams is your uncle he is now in my employ and you must talk to him. We must go." He looked at the three grooms. "To your tasks, lads, and thank you for keeping such careful watch. Mr Mead will be instructed."

That last meant a shilling or two would be added to their wage this week. I watched as the pair were led off. Both poor lads - one so handicapped, the other having had no life other than caring for his wretched brother. I waited for an outburst from my father as I could see he was so angry.

He turned and waved his riding crop in the direction of the road those two had travelled. "If I had my way..." he started, "...Torquil, I trust you to take heed of what that boy said about a neighbour. I could tell you much more but my anger would be too great."

It was then I noticed Geoffrey's action. He beckoned Timmy and gave him a coin. Timmy ran off to reach the pair being led into the stable.

"Father, I have heard enough and more would make my anger blaze as well. Who is the man?" Torquil asked as I watched Timmy reach the stable door.

"Someone who had money enough some seven years ago to buy that estate. He talks of lordly kin but no one has fathomed its nature. Mr Barker has had dealings with the son and I do not think he will visit the forge again. There is a wife but she is not seen and does not call nor respond to visiting cards. Two good tenants were cast out of homes and land as he set their rent high and with the last two year's poor crops their money was gone. Both are with me now and I have no complaint of them."

"I think my Uncle Digby should be consulted on my return to London," Torquil said and our father smiled for the first time since the lads had been found beyond the hedge.

Timmy returned and I heard him say to Geoffrey that the boy was very thankful for the gift. Geoffrey turned to father and said he had given the lad a crown to buy a decent coat for each of them. "We have a grown man like that at Garthorpe and he is mostly confined to a barn. There is nothing to be done for him as he rampages at times because of his fear and frightens the village folk."

Timmy was listening. "Sir, I remember Mother Campion giving him a mixture of St John's Wort for his anxieties with a little valerian to quieten him.

My father laughed. "You must ask Doctor Lancelot if he knows that. If not, you can teach it to him. Does it quieten sharp tongues as well?"

I knew my father's jests. "Then I would suck on one of Mr Clarkson's roughest files to hone it back to it's best condition."

Torquil slapped me on the back. "Good for you, young'un."

"Do not encourage him," our father said as both Geoffrey and Robin snickered, "But then, it shows there is a little wit in him, not like that poor creature we have just seen."

It was time to go before I had to defend myself again even if it amused all, though I had been credited with some wits.

The three of us had to collect our mounts from the first stable and we found Natty there whistling and brushing down young Timmy's Tarquin. We greeted each other and seeing him so cheerful I wondered again if I should ask my father if he might be our groom at Ashbourne. We were disturbed by more arrivals in the stable yard. I looked round and there were Colonel Neville and his grandson Freddy.

Colonel Neville raised his riding crop and touched his hat as we three all bowed our heads in acknowledgment. "Young Browning," he said addressing me, "Is your father available?"

"Sir, he is in the main stable. I will fetch him."

There was no real need as my father must have heard the visitors arrive and was striding out to meet them.

"Colonel Neville, sir, what pleasure do we have in this meeting?" he asked.

"Let me down and I have matters to discuss," was the response.

Both Torquil and Geoffrey had followed some distance behind father. They helped the old gentleman from his saddle. He shook hands with Torquil having recognised him as well and was then introduced to Geoffrey whose title impressed him I could see. All this time young Freddy was sitting watching all this with an air of indifference. He then looked at me and I winked at him. He smiled. Robin and I went over and assisted him down. By this time the Colonel was in earnest conversation with father so I asked Freddy if he was ready for school. "I miss my friends," he said, "But I have been so happy staying with Grandpapa. He says I must come each holiday." He shook his head. "There is nothing and nobody at Cavendish."

There was that name again. A town in Suffolk and that vile landlord. Were they connected? I would have to enquire later. But now other matters. I said we would be riding back to Ashbourne next Monday ready for Thursday. Would he be taken by coach?

Young Freddy's eyes brightened. "I would be most pleased to ride back. Grandpapa has only one coach now. It would prove an inconvenience he says as the second footman would have to accompany Mr Treadwell his coachman so he would be without other transport for a week or so. Would you be hindered if I could accompany you?"

Freddy's question was asked with such a winning smile and I saw Robin's slight nod of approval. I nodded back. "If an arrangement can be made I see no difficulty. You may need more than the old pony you are riding now..."

He was so overjoyed he grabbed my hand. "Please say something to Grandpapa. He has said I need another mount and I would be no trouble."

No trouble? I guessed he and his friends would play havoc once they grew older and bigger. Even now his arse had been tanned for being caught smoking. Still, I think he would be a good friend, too, as he got older. The pleading look on his face was even more reason to agree to his wishes.

I took the bull by the horns as father and the Colonel had finished their discussion. "Sir," I said, speaking directly to the Colonel, "Freddy would be no hindrance if he rode to Ashbourne with us." The Colonel looked quite relieved.

"I would be pleased for him to do that. I asked your father if that would be possible and he said it was your decision." He turned to father. "Browning, I am indebted to your son. Let us make that two good hunters and a suitable mount for Frederick."

I looked at father. What might be my reward? But, he had to pay for my education, though two hunters of the finest quality would be a good profit for him. My wits were reeling. With a mount for Freddy and the other three we would need a good groom. No time like the present.

"Father, there will be four horses to be maintained. We shall need a good groom. I think we might be disposed to ask if Natty Dyer would be willing."

"You want young Nathaniel? What will his mother say?"

I hadn't realised but Natty had also joined the group and was holding the reins of both the Colonel's mount and Freddy's pony.

He burst out "Oh Sir, that would be an honour, she would say. She would hear more tales like what I have told her of London Town."

My father laughed. "Ashbourne is not London Town but it is clean and healthy and I am sure there would be tales to tell. You are willing, Natty?"

"Oh, sir, I would be that."

Signed, sealed and delivered as Mr Grindcobbe would say! We had to hurry off but heard father say if Freddy was delivered to Careby Hall on Sunday afternoon he would be ready to set off Monday morning. We collected our mounts and as we rode off towards Miss Barnes' house Robin grinned at me. "No trouble? That lad is born to it." We would have to wait and see.

Timmy had been silent all this time but as he rode he said he missed Shem and the others and asked that we should give them his best wishes and he hoped to see them again some day. I asked if he was happy here at Careby. Another winning smile.

"Master Tom, 'tis all I could wish for. I have a new mother Mrs Bottom says and Dr Lancelot is so kind in teaching me things. He says the rector will give me instruction, too, and I have that flute."

"You must practice that and you will join us in the Village Band soon," I said. That smile again. How could someone be so cruel to such a boy as Black Jack had been to Timmy. Just the thought of him made me shudder.

At Miss Barnes' we were welcomed as usual into the kitchen by her old cook and two ancient maids and before being ushered into their employers' presence we were given slices of an apple tart. I explained about the two pots of lotion and potion Lancelot had asked me to deliver. I had to repeat his instructions twice before I was certain the old ladies had understood. One was to be rubbed in, the other to be taken in drops with a beaker of hot tea or water. I hoped they wouldn't get the two muddled!

Miss Barnes was as usual swaddled in a mass of shawls and scarves and was in a side room engaged in writing cards. She told Saunders her butler to take us to the parlour to keep warm. Warm it was. A blazing fire and a flimsy guard. I put it closer to the flames as logs were spitting. Robin shook his head. Too many fires in the village were due to not putting the fireguard before the flames. "Miss Barnes needs younger staff who would see to such things. That rug in the kitchen is so frayed someone will trip and fall. I think Aunt Matty should be told." Another task for our aunt. That is, my aunt, his great-aunt! I nodded at my 'young' nephew.

Of course, on the way along the corridor we had both grinned at the carvings and now being left alone in the parlour I pointed out the ebony carving of the African boy. Timmy listened as I told Robin about Mehmet and his brother being circumcised. I said I hadn't witnessed what they looked like completely but had seen the outline of Karem's peg in his tight silken drawers. His end was just the acorn we had, but ours were enclosed.

No more discussion was possible as we heard Miss Barnes' wheezing as she approached. I thought that Lancelot had better make a mixture for her as well.

"Ah, boys," she said as he came in. "Let me sit down and then I can tell you why I wished to see you." She sat heavily on a raised chair. "My breath is not so good these days. Now, Thomas..." She pointed at me. I could not mind being given my full name. "...I told you there were more things in that cupboard." She nodded towards the table. On it were two instrument cases. "There is a flute for you. I thought there was another one to match the one I had given to your young companion." She smiled. "Mr Venables has told me he is making progress in learning. Is that so, young man?" Timmy bowed his head and said he enjoyed learning. "Now, Robin Goodhew, there is also something for you," she said, pointing to the other, larger, case. "It is old and dusty but my father played it well. He bought it when in Italy in some place called Cremona. That violin is for you."

To be continued.