Tom Brownings Schooldays

Tom Browning's Schooldays

By

Joel

Chapter SixtyNine

The pistol shot brought us to full alert. I for one was feeling rather heated and drowsy in the confines of the coach even though the windows were down. Claude had stopped the coach and Lancelot said we should be careful as I opened the coach door. I peered out and saw that Martin was away from the back of the coach and holding an ancient musket ready to fire. There was also the sound of retreating hoofbeats. Robin and Rowley were standing on the box staring back and pointing.

"Two of 'em!" shouted Rowley, "They've gone!"

"That scared them off," Martin called out, "Pierre was sure they were robbers so he fired at them. I'll keep watch!"

We were only a few yards from the two carts. Their owners were not visible. I could see they the drays had locked wheels but little damage seemed to have been done other than spilled vegetables and a smashed flagon of wine or two.

Alain and I climbed out carefully and found sturdy sticks in the verge leaving Lancelot and Jabez to guard the coach from inside. We approached the carts slowly. As we did so there was a groan from a ditch beside the road. There were two elderly men, one with a bloodied forehead and the other staring out wide-eyed and mouthing silently.

As soon as the bloodied one saw us approaching the pair with our sticks held high he cried out "Messieurs, ne nous tuez pas, nous sommes honnˆte hommes!" At least I think that was what I heard with their countrified accents. They thought we might be the robbers and were about to kill them.

Claude climbed down from the box leaving Rowley holding the reins with Robin still looking back. Claude conversed with them in rapid French which I could not understand. He looked round and called to Lancelot. "Monsieur, he bleeds from his tˆte!" he said in a mixture of French and English.

Lancelot quickly left the coach and approached the wounded man. I heard Claude say "Prenez garde, Monsieur!" He was warning Lancelot the pair might have been part of the ambush. I walked with Lancelot and saw the evidence they were not. The silently gibbering one had wet himself.

Satisfied we were not going to harm them the pair were most loquacious. We had to wait until Claude had heard their story and then said it again in more understandable French to the rest of us. I gathered there had been two recent robberies on this road but no culprits had been caught. They were certain they were brigands from Nevers as no one in the villages were as evil as that! The one with the bloodied head had been set upon by one of the masked men and had sworn at him so had been hit. The other, less brave we expect, had jumped off his cart and fled to the ditch. In doing so the old mare drawing his dray had tried to follow him and the carts collided. It did not take long for Lancelot to attend to the wound which, though bloody, was a superficial cut to the man's scalp. The other old man had to be calmed with a beaker of cider from a flagon on his cart. Both were taking produce to the Saturday marketplace in Pougu‚s and that was where we were heading on our way to Nevers. It did not take long to separate the two carts and rearrange the produce which seemed little more than a few flagons and greenery of various kinds. It was as the carts were separated so sharp- eyed Robin spied a kerchief on the road. The injured one raised his hands. We found he had seen it drop from one of the highwaymens' pockets. Lancelot took possession of it and said it was of good quality. He held it up and we could see it had been carefully stitched on its edges. "We will hand this to the Mayor," he declared.

Lancelot commended Pierre on his quickness in assessing the danger. Pierre said the riders were only armed with cudgels and could not have been more than youths. Martin laughed and brandished his musket. "They did not know this was not loaded and hasn't been fired for twenty years," he said. "Father said he would not trust it but it certainly frightened them." Alain hugged Pierre. "Oh, mon ami, tu ‚tais si courageux!"

The elderly pair were satisfied they would not be attacked again so we drove off before they did with Claude assuring them we would report it all to the Mairie in Pougu‚s. We found it to be little more than a village but there looked like a good hostelry in the square where there was also a small market. Lancelot went with Claude to the Mairie and came back seething.

"I would have no faith in that man," he said, "He more or less waved us away. He was not interested in the kerchief."

Claude was standing by him and shaking his head. He said something to Martin who nodded.

"Dr Dodd," he said with almost a grin, "I think Messieurs les Comtes de Roanne will make themselves known." It was then the two elderly men appeared with their carts. Martin went to them. They began waving their arms and though seemingly aged they were quickly off their drays and hitched the reins to two convenient posts. Followed by Martin and Alain they disappeared into the Mairie which was no more than a ramshackle cottage so we heard much shouting. The Mayor, wearing his tricolour sash, was almost dragged out and shown the carts and was now most humble and obsequious. All this brought customers from the inn who joined in the general shouting which seemed to imply that the Mayor was a no-good idiot. There was mention of 'gendarmes' and 'pandores' which we gathered were constables but were stationed in Nevers. A stout lady in peasant dress was shouting and waving the kerchief which she had taken from the twins. Later we heard she knew where it had been bought for she possessed two the same as presents from her daughter.

With all the imprecations being directed at the Mayor I wondered if he might need the comforts of the miraculous spring. If the man with the plumed hat was unctuous then the Mayor was now a good partner. He became most apologetic in the end. He was reliant on the constables, or gendarmes, who were in Nevers and so had no one at hand to send and investigate. The more vociferous of the old men said that his son would find who owned the kerchief and would coupez ses couilles which made everyone hoot and laugh. Alain was also laughing as he translated it as 'cut his cods off'! This made the Mayor even more agitated and there was much waving of arms again.

We were invited to take a glass of wine by the inn-keeper who was much amused as it also meant more custom for him with the number of people now assembling wishing to hear what had happened. Martin said this was becoming a habit in that les Anglais were giving much entertainment on our journey down France which did deserve a reward. Lancelot managed to quieten the Mayor down and said we would be travelling on to Nevers and would deliver a letter to the Gendamerie there if he wrote it now. Lancelot had quiet authority and he, Martin and the Mayor went back into the Mairie. Being most generous I bought the two old men a beaker of wine each and realised they were no different from the villagers at home; good honest country-folk. From what Alain said later the pair were convinced they knew who the culprits might be and no gendarmes were needed. I wondered if their ballocks would be preserved in a glass jar like the ducal head! It would be even better if they were presented to Lancelot to be dissected! Boys' balls to compare with ponies'!

At long last Lancelot and Martin emerged from the Mairie with Lancelot bearing a sealed paper. He said as time was passing we should have luncheon here and hope to pass through Nevers quickly though he doubted this. Over a substantial repast of spitted roast chicken and bread, with yet more cheeses to follow, Lancelot consulted his map and said it would be best to stay overnight in Nevers and add another day to our journey. The horses would be rested and we did not have to hurry. We agreed and while Lancelot composed a letter to be sent on to Riom we four left Jabez with him and went off to find the miraculous spring. We were uncertain of the way but found a rough path which one of the urchins who always seemed to be around asserted led to the spring.

I was in front with Martin who nudged me and said he wondered if he bathed in the miraculous waters his pizzle might become equal to that of the one he'd seen on a certain companion. I said that would indeed be a miracle and he had better scoop up some of the water to anoint himself every day. We were giggling and had to repeat my suggestion when Alain and Robin caught up with us. Robin said it might be better to bathe in it and also drink it for after passing through us that organ would have been anointed both on its inside and on its outside. We were laughing heartily as Martin said we should take a gallon or so with us to experiment. A quick dip in a teacup then drink! Robin was boastful and said a teacup was rather too small for him even now.

However, we would never find out for we gave up our quest. There were two old crones kneeling and wailing on the path who seemed to be approaching the spring on their knees. We would never know how far on the spring would be for the sides of the path were thickly brambled and it would have been utter rudeness to try to pass the old women intent on their devotions. We turned and I whispered "Too bad! We shall have to be content!" Alain let out an almost silent wail!

We were soon back in the village square where Lancelot and Jabez were sitting enjoying another glass of wine with our coachmen playing knucklebones at another table watched by the usual gaggle of children. We wandered around the village square where the stallholders were now packing up their unsold wares. I saw some cherries and a dozen peaches on one table and bought those while Alain purchased two flagon of cider for our stocks had been depleted with the delays. By the church porch there was another old crone who had a basket by her feet. This held bottles which we were told were filled with water from the spring. I shook my head but Martin and Robin purchased a bottle each. Alain declared they should be measured tonight before they drank the contents and again in the morning. I said if the miracle happened perhaps Robin would then be able to lie in bed and stretch his lengthened peg out to the commode. Martin laughed and said he would not be surprised if his brother's shrank instead and he would need a snail fork to find it! I was kind and shared my purchases between all our company before we clambered onto or into the coach again.

The rest of our journey to Nevers was uneventful and we found the Gendarmerie barracks most easily. As predicted it took some time for Lancelot and Martin to complete all the formalities. We had seen the exterior of the ducal palace on our journey but though most pleasing was not of the dimensions of the palace at Fontainebleau. We needed a good inn and found one near the Mairie in a road by the palace.

Once more I was unable to converse with Jabez as all wanted each other's attention and any opportunity to sit just with another was impossible. The evening was still hot so we dined in the shade in a fine garden. We decided to have cold cuts as hot meats would have been too wearing on our constitutions. Still we did sample two good wines and both Lancelot and Jabez were somewhat foxed when we went to our rooms and bed.

I would not let Robin sample the water in the bottle for when we held it up to the light it was slightly clouded. I hoped Martin would not drink his as I was certain bad water was accompanied by disorders of the bowels and I said we did not need any miraculous shitting. It was too late to find the other room and warn Martin.

All seemed well in the morning. That was easily explained. Martin had taken the stopper from his bottle and set it on a side-table and then when he removed his shirt managed to upset it and it fell on the bed. Alain was laughing as he related this saying the poor boy would have to say to the goodwife he had not wet the bed. Lancelot was adamant that Robin should not drink the water as he agreed with my reasoning. We laughed, for we realised we had not asked what miraculous things might happen if the water was drunk at the spring. I looked at Martin who did not divulge his wish!

There were more travellers on the road when we set off though it was a Sunday morning. We headed for Moulins where we would cross the river and take the Route Nationale num‚ro 9 towards Riom. We arrived at Moulins in good time as our horses had been well-rested and were sturdy beasts. In the town square were the signposts and there was much excitement from the twins as one arm pointed to the road to Roanne. We enquired at the inn in which we had luncheon and were told that road was particularly difficult for a laden coach as the road traversed la Montagne de la Madeleine. As their uncle Philippe had not had good words to say about the place of his title we decided not to make the rather lengthy detour. We also found that Roanne was quite famous in that a railway had been built but two years ago to connect to the city of Lyon. Martin wondered if any of the land used had belonged to his uncle?

We rested after luncheon for the sun was hot and we boys went down to the river and bathed in the coolness. There were a number of young lads also besporting themselves and were notable for the complete brownness of their bodies. We were stared at, I hoped mainly for our whiteness and not for the lengths we showed which, if I am honest, were of equal or greater dimension to any others on show. It was a pity that Jabez had not joined us for he would have outmatched any!

By seven that evening we found a reasonable inn at St Pourcain which put on a good show for travellers such as us. We discovered few English had stayed there and were stared at again, not for our nakedness, but for our speaking in English and the good clothes we wore. Lancelot calculated that if we set off in the morning by seven o'clock we would be in Riom by Monday midday. As Robin and I had had little opportunity to peruse Uncle Philippe's music we took the leather satchel and our instruments in and played some very pleasing duets by the German fellow, Telemann. Again this attracted attention and we also played some of our country dances as well. A reward of a glass of the landlord's best wine was most acceptable.

However, Lancelot decreed it was early to bed and there was much cat-calling as we mounted the stairs for Alain had found from the innkeeper there was another spring near Riom. We four shared a room and Alain and Robin held Martin and demanded I measured him for he was again minded to bathe in miraculous waters. I demurred saying I did not have a rule and one was needed which was accurate to a hundredth of an inch for that would be the likely outcome of any miracle. Unfortunately they let the wretch loose and I was attacked by him and tickled for I had undressed ready to don my nightshirt. Of course, my pizzle responded and he rudely said there was no need of a rule for me, a playing card would be sufficient and that for the short edge! I had my revenge for boys being boys and needing release Alain proposed a contest to see who could fire the furthest. I won!

As required we were ready after a good breakfast to set off for the last part of our pilgrimage as Robin called it. This was the fourteenth day of our journey and so far had been quite adventurous. We had a great duty still to perform as well as meeting my and Robin's relations. Even now our journey was slowed somewhat. It was Pierre's turn to have a good dose of Lancelot's Balm as he had gorged himself on fruit the night before and had stopped the coach three times to disappear into the hedge to relieve his disordered bowel. He was most upset and Alain showed his good-heartedness by hugging him and suggesting he rode on the box in shirt and underclout with a light rug across his knees. Robin and I were the postillions as we approached Riom. Here some seven roads converged on the town square. Our destination was on the road which forked towards Volvic. It was decided that I and Robin would hire a chaise from the hostelry we had stopped at and go with Lancelot to the address we had been given. The others said they could entertain themselves and Pierre could rest. Lancelot said no miraculous water should be bought as he had little of his Balm left for disordered bellies!

There were rooms available which Martin and Alain said they would inspect on our behalf. The inn-keeper knew Monsieur Fontane well and a lad was sent straightaway to announce our arrival. As we did not know what welcome we might receive we had a bite to eat at the inn just after midday.

We found the house easily from the description given by Jacques Fontane in Paris. Claude was our driver with another lad from the inn who knew the way. The house looked quite commodious. It had what looked like barns attached to it and was set near the road, with vineyards behind and to the side. As we drove into the open gates a man who had been seated under the shade of a tree rose and approached the chaise leaning heavily on a stick. His accent was strange but Lancelot was able to converse and we were welcomed most heartily. This was Clement Fontane, my grandmother's nephew! Claude and the boy were told to go to the kitchen and we were led through into a large hallway and then to a parlour where Madame Fontane was waiting to greet us. I was lost then in the rapid French which swirled around my head. My grandmother had left France some four years or so after her nephew had been born. He did not remember her but his mother had always spoken of her most fondly. We were asked if we were hungry and what were boys to say? The dining room was laid out ready and we had cold cuts again with a fruit pickle and the good bread the French always seemed to have.

Over our repast we heard more of the family. Monsieur Fontane's grandfather, Jacques Le Ferreur had lived in Paris and had been an author though he returned often to Riom for money. This was said with a laugh from the grandson. He said there were stories of his involvement before and during the Revolution and he had been fortunate in not becoming a victim as he had been imprisoned for his friendship with those against the Revolution. Here Lancelot asked about the Duc de Clermond and Monsieur Fontane shook his head sadly. The Duke's father had lost his fortune and his chƒteau even before the Revolution. The ruins we had seen were of this residence. The son, who became Duke on his father's death, had been an army man. He, like many others in his position, had been arrested, tried and guillotined. There had been some connection between the families for the young Duke had been tutored by Monsieur Le Ferreur as a boy. There was a look of utter astonishment when Lancelot revealed he had the task of finding a resting-place for the ducal head. We heard there was now no one left of that family nor any suitable burial place. There had been a memorial to past members of the family in the church near the chƒteau but that had been torn down when the church had been sacked and the parish priest killed in Revolutionary times. He thought the present cur‚ would be reluctant to have such a reminder of the past within his church which was still rather ruinous.

Madame Fontane had been listening carefully and she now spoke. She said if we had a mind to do justice to the Duke then their own family mausoleum might be a suitable resting-place. She revealed she was also related to Jacques Le Ferreur through another branch of the family. Monsieur laughed and said this happened often in country districts. I knew this to be so in our village where many were termed as cousins through marriages in past generations. Monsieur also said with a finger to his lips that there was rumour that the old Duke had been father to several children as had his father before him and that Jacques le Ferreur's father had been said to resemble a past Duke. Having heard of the resemblance I thought of the story of Squire Matthews and his son away in Canada and King Charles and the orange seller! Monsieur Fontane knew the ancestor had been employed in the Duke's service and had been most skilled in iron work. That, he averred, was the origin of his name 'Le Ferreur' which Lancelot said to us would be similar to 'farrier' in English.

Lancelot asked permission to write some notes of the conversation and said he would be corresponding with my grandmother in Cheshire. Monsieur Fontane said he would write as well but did not know her address. Lancelot said that was easily remedied. Monsieur then pointed to a painting of a lady which was beside another of a quite handsome man. I understood they were his parents, Agnes Le Ferreur, my grandmother's sister, and her husband Jacques Fontane. Madame Fontane stood and went to a cupboard and opened a lower door. She brought out a small framed portrait and held it up for Robin and me to see. It was the lady in the larger painting.

Monsieur Fontane said we must take it to England and give it to his aunt as a reminder of her sister. The artist who had made the larger portraits had painted this as an example of his skill. I was quite overwhelmed at this and said my mother would be most pleased to see a portrait of her aunt who she had never known.

We heard that Monsieur Fontane had not enjoyed good health for some five years or so. He had suffered a fall when alighting from a carriage and the horses had bolted. His leg had been shattered as well as his left shoulder. He said he suffered also from shortness of breath but was grateful the Good Lord had allowed him his life so far with a loving wife and a son with a good wife and grandson, though they were far away in Paris!

He told of his great joy that his son Jacques would soon be a fully-qualified doctor. He said the physicians in Riom were nearly all aged and there were more than twelve thousand souls to be attended to in the town so Jacques' arrival would be most welcome. They had not seen their grandson yet so this would be a double pleasure. There was much amusement when I said that Robin and I also shared the ancestral birthmark. Monsieur said it was carried in the family from generation to generation. I could see that Lancelot would be asking more questions!

Madame Fontane asked very carefully about Jacques' wife Charlotte and I was able to say that as she was also a relative of mine she must be a fine person. There was much laughter also when Lancelot said she would make a good physician herself from his discussion with her.

Monsieur Fontane was most apologetic that they were unable to accommodate us for their only servants were a cook and parlourmaid to aid Madame. He was dependant on assistance around the vineyards and for la vendange from labourers hired when necessary. He had one man who was his coachman and general factotum but he did not live in but had a cottage along the roadway. Robin said he would most pleased if he could be shown the vineyard. His French was very careful and Monsieur had understood him readily. That would be done on the morrow.

Of course we would have to stay in the inn where the coach had stopped until the disposal of the ducal head had taken place. We were told the hostelry had a good reputation because of the constant flow of travellers through the town. Monsieur Fontane asked Lancelot if he would accompany him in the morning to speak with Monsieur le Cur‚ if he made any objection to get his permission to open the mausoleum. He explained it was not in the church but in the elevated graveyard overlooking the valley. Lancelot readily agreed and said that any expense was to be paid by the money left at St Mark's College which he had authority to honour. The grave-digger would be the person to open the tomb and a franc or two would cover that cost. Perhaps a local mason could provide a small plaque to be placed in the tomb as well. Monsieur Fontane nodded at this and said he knew who would do that well. Again, Lancelot could talk to the mason the next day. It was a pity, I thought, that Steven Goodhew was not to be the mason.

We left the couple around four o'clock and there was much discussion on the journey back to the town square. Lancelot was pleased that a safe resting place had be found. He would have then discharged his duty. He thought we might remain until Thursday if all went well and then our return journey could take place.

On our arrival back at the inn we found the twins and Jabez sitting in the garden behind the hostelry. We had to repeat what we had heard and seen especially the gift of the portrait. Lancelot unwrapped it carefully from the cloth it had been placed in. He said he would inscribe the name on the back in black ink. Robin smiled and said it was a fair exchange, one head for another!

Lancelot took the portrait to his room and ordered a tisane to be brought out with whatever delicacies the goodwife could produce. The tisane was most aromatic and there was a freshly baked tart with slices of peaches placed on it. It would fill us until dinner!

Robin and I fetched our instrument cases and the satchel of music and soon there were a number of others also seated in the garden as we entertained them all with our new pieces. We made Lancelot explain these were unfamiliar to us but we would try our best. We did make a few false starts but we made good progress. If we were to play with Uncle Philippe we would have to be perfect. Again we were praised and the innkeeper asked if we would play again after our dinner. That would be another gift!

There must have been a good forty persons gathered later and many tankards and glasses passed through the back door to eager drinkers so our gift was more than repaid we thought. A cousin of the innkeeper brought out a mandolin and played while we rested and it must have been near midnight when we played our final duet. Some wag had placed an up- turned cap on a table and we were presented with a handful of sous and centimes as we packed our instruments away. The wag turned out to be Martin who said he did not see why we should not be rewarded for our entertainment.

During the evening a messenger had come from Monsieur Fontane and said the cur‚ would be at the mausoleum at ten o'clock in the morning, all was agreed. The grave digger would have opened the vault and the ducal head could be deposited there. This would be a very solemn moment.

We did not have to share our bed with the twins so even with the lateness of the hour Robin and I rehearsed our love for each other again. It was once before we fell asleep in each other's arms and again quite early in the morning as the cock crew and the chorus of birds woke us. "There was such a sweetness there," Robin averred as he withdrew his tongue from my eager mouth, "It must be the aromas of that tisane and those fruits which have passed down into your wonderful seed."

I kissed him. "I had noted that, too, with your most generous gift to me. We have eaten and drunk alike which must account for that."

He laughed. "You break the moment for I know you would wish now to vary our diet and make copious notes on taste and flavour."

I tightened my arms around him. "With you all is sweet - and most flavoursome," I added, "Perhaps I will ask the goodwife to give me some of those hot peppers she has hanging by the door and you can judge if I am warm to the taste. Perhaps, some ginger..."

I could not continue for he broke free and his mouth was again on my readily erect peg. No matter, I twisted in the bed and fixed him, too. A second offering proved to be as tasty as the first. "Copious notes," he whispered before our tongues duelled again.

We rested side by side and held hands and smiled at each other and spoke of the various things which had befallen us on this journey so far. I had thought it might be tedious with all the miles to travel but we had seen and experienced much so that the present fortnight had passed with pleasure as well as a measure of excitement. The usual lads brought hot water and left delighted with their sous as we readied ourselves to wash. We did catch two or three French fleas that had hopped upon us during the night as we laved ourselves and each other. Both lads, in our opinion, were most comely with their dark skin on faces and arms from time in the sun and their lustrous black locks. Their French was too much of a dialect for us to fathom a deal of it but we could only wish there was a stream nearby to bathe with them. I thought they would make good servants in the Comte's h"tel for they served us most expertly at breakfast. I said this to Alain who agreed and thought we might secrete them on the coach. I said I wondered what instruments they would be proficient at. "The slide trombone," the cheeky Alain said as he demonstrated that movement which all boys know!

We had to be solemn later as the wicker basket was loaded within our coach to be taken to the church where the mausoleum was. Lancelot alone would accompany the ducal head. Monsieur Fontane would be arriving in his coach and I and Robin would travel with him and Madame Fontane. Jabez and the twins would follow in a chaise. We did not have to wait long as the Fontane's carriage soon approached. There was much interest for quite a gathering of persons assembled. Rumours had circulated the night before that something would be occurring with the strange English. They would not be disappointed. Monsieur Fontane was helped from his coach and limped over to two of the men who seemed to be rather important persons. On his return he said they were assistants to the mayor who was concerned we might be inciting a riot! He was laughing at this and had invited them and others to accompany us at least to the gates of the churchyard.

Our procession moved off in good order and several riders and at least three coaches followed us at a respectable distance. The church was a little way past the Fontane's house and was a dark and rather small edifice. The churchyard, though, was well set out with numerous graves surrounded by low iron railings. At the gate was the cur‚ robed in a black cassock and a white surplice, the ribbon of a purple silk stole hanging from his neck. He seemed to be quite young, almost of an age with Lancelot. There were two boys beside him, one bearing a cross atop a wooden pole and the other a pot of smoking incense. There were two men in good black clothes standing behind them. As our leading coach stopped and Lancelot alighted so they stepped forward and most carefully and reverently took the wicker casket to stand before the priest. He waited until all of us were standing behind or beside Lancelot.

Monsieur Fontane went forward slowly and spoke quietly to the cur‚ who smiled and as Monsieur Fontane stepped away made the Sign of the Cross over the basket. The boy with the smoking pot, which Lancelot told us later was called a censer, swung it so the fragrant smoke wafted both over the basket and us. The cur‚ turned and we all followed as he slowly made his way to one of the graves. I had always thought a mausoleum would be a building above ground but I could see that flagstones had been lifted and a dark seemingly empty space was below ground. This was some kind of crypt. As the cur‚ prayed and the boy with the censer swung it to and fro so the basket was handed by the two men to unseen hands which took it and it disappeared from sight. As a gesture which I seen at burials at home so Lancelot cast a handful of earth into the hole and also dropped a white rose into it as well. A final prayer was said and the cur‚ stood back. Lancelot thanked him for the ceremony while Monsieur Fontane was nodding and wiping his eyes with a large kerchief. Madame Fontane came forward and also dropped a white rose into the cavity. What could we do? I spied a trailing rose which was by a single tree. We four boys and Jabez each plucked a pink, sweet- smelling bloom and offered our own benediction to that poor young man.

The Fontanes insisted we all repaired to their house where we found they had arranged for wine and tidbits to be dispensed to us all. The cur‚ and the two boys accompanied us and those two were quite round-eyed at all the good things laid out for us. Lancelot was so grateful that a suitable resting-place had been found I saw him pass a gold piece to the cur‚ and some silver francs for the grave-digger and the mutes. The boys were also rewarded with a franc apiece which made them goggle even more.

Lancelot and the priest spoke together at length while the twins conversed with the Fontanes as their French was so much more fluent than ours. Robin and I showed Jabez the portraits of our relations. He remarked he could see my mother's features in the portrait of Madame Le Ferreur and she would be so pleased to see that smaller painting. Jabez said he knew nothing of what his grandparents looked like but would get young Philip Goodhew to limn a likeness of him to be looked on in a hundred years. Robin looked him up and down and said he would be better sculpted in stone like Curly. He added, sotto voce, that it should not be too boastful! "I have what I have and I am proud of it," Jabez said most straight- faced.

It was fortunate he did not add anything about boys and stroking marble parts as we were called to talk with Monsieur and Madame. We gathered they were so pleased that they were able to bring a most satisfactory conclusion to such an unhappy event. They were somewhat concerned about the wording for the plaque. He had been Monsieur le Duc de Clermond but what other name did he bear. Was he Georges, Henri, Albert or otherwise, and what was his surname? I knew our own Duke of Rutland was Johnny Manners as my father always referred to him as such whenever mention of Belvoir Castle near Grantham was made. Martin said there must be an old Army List somewhere. He would ask his Uncle Philippe.

As Lancelot was still deep in conversation Monsieur suggested we might like to see what happened when the vendange, or grape harvest, occurred. Madame was quite happy to sit and listen in to Lancelot and the priest so we followed Monsieur as he and the two young boys led the way. Behind the house was a large yard and a number of open wagons. These would bring the baskets of grapes down from the areas of vineyard. He asked us to open a side door into what I thought was just a barn. Inside were two enormous presses into which the grapes would be placed and then crushed. The juice would then be caught in large vats. He laughed and said in older times and with smaller vineyards even now the grapes would be trodden on by bare-footed men. I think we grimaced at that thinking of some of the dirty feet we had seen in our own village and now on our travels. Alain translated that the juice was then put in great barrels to ferment and change into wine. We followed Monsieur into another barn where the wine from last year was stored in large barrels. Outside he pointed to the hillside and we could see wooden doors which led to caves in which the wine from previous years was kept until the merchants bought it and took it away. He said most of his wine went to Clermont-Ferrand and was prized as being a smooth and aromatic red wine from the gamay grape. We were quite taken aback when he told us that this area had been under Roman rule for many years in the past and Pliny the Elder had praised the region's red wine.

Martin was most forward and asked if his wines were sent elsewhere, such as to Paris. He said they were not as there was never enough produced and the merchants took all his with no problem. I think Martin was disappointed as he had said when drinking a glass of Monsieur's wine it was of exceedingly good quality. His father would no doubt be informed of this.

We were entreated to visit once more before we left. Lancelot said we would be departing on Wednesday now all the duties had been completed so luncheon on the next day was arranged. Martin was smiling at this as he would be sampling more of the good wine.

The sun was high in the sky as we travelled back to Riom. The shade of the inn's garden would have been welcome but Alain spied the two lads who had brought our washing-water. He waylaid them as they were leaving the garden by a back entrance. They were going to bathe in a nearby stream which led to the main river. They looked a little abashed when Alain asked if we might accompany them. I think he must have said we were boys, too, as they smiled and waited while we four joined them. Jabez demurred. I wondered if he was not keen on being ogled again. It never seemed to matter before. However, we followed the lads who silently led the way.

There was a good pool of clear water fed by quite a rapid stream even on a hot summer's day. Six boys stripped and were in the water immediately. Immediately four jumped out! The water was so cold. This amused the two French boys who beckoned us in again and one told Martin that once in we would soon be accustomed to it. This was so and we were soon jumping up and down, splashing each other and generally becoming quite raucous. Three more lads appeared and these were also as brown as berries as the other pair. They had not realised we were the English from the inn and were soon set upon by the six of us and ducked and harried and a merry time was had by all. Gradually others joined us as they finished their work until a good fifteen or so were cleansing the grime of the day and mocking and joshing each other. I comprehended a few words but even Martin and Alain said after they were lost in understanding most of the repartee. We were not ignored for one lad had brought a pig's bladder and there was much laughter for the English made great efforts to capture it to pass to one another without it being reclaimed by the French!

We rested on the bank after a while and toasted ourselves in the sun and watched as the others vied to be the victors. What we noted was the evil way in which some of the boys held onto pegs and cods amid screams to gain advantage. They had not tried those ploys with us!

We must have spent a good two hours in and out of the water before we saw our two fellows shake themselves like wet dogs and don their clothes and stockings. We dressed also and left with waves and calls back and forth to those left. Alain found the pair had to prepare themselves for serving the evening meal. They were the nephews of the inn-keeper whose own sons had left to work in Clermont-Ferrand. The manufactories were taking many from the smaller towns and villages. I said to Alain I had heard this was also true in England with cities like Manchester and Birmingham expanding.

When we entered the garden we found both Lancelot and Jabez fast asleep in comfortable chairs under the trees. We tried our own evil ploys and found long fronds of grass and hiding behind their chairs tickled their cheeks and noses. When they woke we were threatened with no dinner that evening so we became most contrite and all were on bended knee. There were other guests of the inn seated around who were most amused at these English antics.

Lancelot again sent for some of the tisane for he said we should not have more wine before dinner. This did not bother us as we were all thirsty and beakers of that delightful liquid were most welcome. Lancelot then said he had found the cur‚ to be a most erudite man. He had been born in Riom and attended a seminary there before being sent to Rome to study. He was an assistant to the Monsignor, the pr‚v"t of the Basilica in Riom, and Lancelot thought he was destined for great things. He had explained that this whole region, the Auvergne, was sited on old volcanoes and there were many springs. The cur‚ had laughed when told we boys had tried to find the miraculous spring. He had said he had not witnessed any miracles but there were many who did believe in the healing powers of the waters.

Of course we boys said nothing then but Martin was twitted much later when we made our way to our beds and told he would have had to drink many gallons of the spring water if he wanted any miracle to happen.

Dinner was most substantial that evening. The main course was a splendid gigot of lamb which had herbs and garlic pressed under the skin to flavour it. Wine flowed most freely not only then but after when Robin and I played our instruments again. The inn was even more crowded that evening with many who had taken the evening air and had heard the music. The mandolin player joined us and we were captivated by his skill. A well-dressed lady sang two songs to his accompaniment and she had a most telling dark voice. Whether it was the wine, or the good tisane made from spring water, but our miracle was how well Robin and I played together from the Comte's books and manuscripts. There were few errors and all seem delighted especially with our English dance tunes.

Again it was near midnight when Lancelot signalled to us we should draw things to a close. Our rewards were even greater this evening. We shared what was placed in the hat with the mandolin player who we found was also a schoolmaster. His French was much more comprehensible and he wished us well in our futures.

We were quite exhausted with all that had happened on that quite momentous day. Lancelot had fulfilled his great task and the remains of the poor Duke had been consigned to a most suitable resting place. It was while we were telling the twins about the names of the family and Monsieur Fontane's remark of perhaps a very close connection between the Duke's family and his grandfather's. Martin said it was almost a play on words with Ferrand and le Ferreur. This startled Lancelot as he had not made that connection. Robin asked if a Duke out-ranked a Count and put his finger under his nose and pushed it up in the gesture of supremacy! I said if this was so I would set myself up as a physician to the highest nobility and not take common patients such as the descendants of mere Counts. Lancelot laughed and said I should not rise above myself for no doubt if we were all descended from Adam we would be all equal even with those who were set to rule us. This amused the twins who said we should relate the whole tale to their Uncle Philippe who said he was always flummoxed with the republican insistence on 'Libert‚, Fraternit‚ and galit‚'.

As the day before Robin and I woke early and made good use of those moments before we would be disturbed by the hot water being brought. Not only did the smiling pair from our frolics on the day before come bearing pitchers but a third lad, who I recognised from his features but not the pizzle he had displayed, came in with a heap of clean shirts, underclouts and stockings. We had to sort out which were ours as Lancelot had asked the goodwife to arrange for all our soiled things in our bags and chests to be washed and in the heat of the day they were dried quickly and ready for us this morn. I caught grins between the three as Robin and I sorted our possessions for we had slept naked under a single sheet so were displaying ourselves as we had done at the pool. When done I stared pointedly at the front of the britches of the tallest and shook my head slightly. He smiled, pointed at the third lad and shook his own head. There was laughter then and great thanks as the three were then presented with several sous each from my hoard.

At breakfast Lancelot said we had been invited to see the Basilica which though rebuilt over time was reputed to have built first on Roman remains. Dutifully we agreed though we wondered what ruins we might see. I had hoped I might have had time to quiz Jabez but we were soon hustled into a chaise and were pleasantly surprised at what we were shown. The cur‚ was waiting for us and took us first to the house where the priests lived. Here we had another kind of tisane and Lancelot was able to ask about herbs and plants. His list was scrutinised and one the priests who was in charge of their cellar said at least two of the herbs grew on higher ground and could be easily gathered in the autumn. He was sure the apothecary in a road near our inn would have a supply even now as he distilled his own liqueur which was much-prized. I think Lancelot was ready to run to that establishment at that moment but smiled and said his thanks. There was little of great interest in the strange building though its lofty heights and stained-glass windows more than equalled what we had experienced so far in France. The cur‚ spoke carefully so I understood almost all he said. Martin had Jabez by his side and gave him the descriptions of whatever the cur‚ pointed out.

We knew we should not tarry long as we had to repair to the Fontane's for luncheon. Poor Lancelot was in a fix. He was agitated as he needed to visit the apothecary's not only to enquire about the plants but also to supervise the mixing of a supply of his Balm as that was much depleted. We had been told that luncheon would be at one o'clock so on our return to the inn Lancelot had some three-quarters of an hour for his errand.

He was smiling broadly when he returned just as we were ready to take our places on the coach. He had taken Jabez with him and the pair had two baskets of herbs and Jabez was carrying a substantial stone flagon containing the Balm. Lancelot was all abuzz as the apothecary was preparing even more of the herbs and plants he wanted and they would be delivered before we left Riom on the morrow. Robin said he hoped we had room in the coach for all these packages but I said we had more room now as we had left one large hamper and the baskets smelled sweeter than he did. I would have to repay the thump to my ribs which I then received!

We had another great welcome from Monsieur and Madame Fontane. They had received a letter from their son announcing that his wife, Charlotte, would be having a second child sometime in the new year. We toasted the happy couple and their son Georges and we were toasted as well as most welcome guests. By the time three or so glasses of the most fragrant wine had been consumed we were a merry party who sat for the luncheon. I was almost filled by the first course. This we were told was a special dish, a potage auvergnate. It was the most substantial stew I had ever tasted or enjoyed. There was then slices of a fine capon, again aromatic with herbs. Five cheeses were presented and each had to be tasted and savoured. Both Martin and Alain were nodding at their quality. The dessert was a bowl of fresh fruits, cherries, peaches, nectarines and late strawberries. I felt as if I would not need to eat for another week!

We sat after in the shaded garden and all were comatose. We did converse somewhat but both the old lady and gentleman were soon dozing. All too soon it was time for us to depart. Our farewells were most heartfelt. Poor Madame Fontane had tears in her eyes as we each were hugged and kissed. Robin was especially held as she maintained he looked so like her son Jacques when he was of an age. I managed to convey to her she would be seeing her grandson soon which brought more tears of joy. Lancelot thanked them for being so generous in allowing the poor Duke to have a last resting-place. Monsieur Fontane said it was but his duty and it sealed any connections between the families. His last act was to give us a small barrel - some five gallons or so - of his best wine. As we travelled back to the inn I suggested to Lancelot we should share that between the Count and Mr and Mrs Johnson. He laughed and said if the barrel was broached in Paris he doubted if any would be left to go to Coquelles.

Although we had fed well we still had room for a light repast that evening and our music resounded until midnight again. I was sorry we would not be visiting that pool again but our pitcher-bearers in the morning were rewarded with a whole franc apiece. Both Robin and I were hugged and our cheeks bussed even though standing naked. There was only one response as we were clutched and this was matched by the sturdy rods we felt pressed against us! A much more intimate pleasure than the etiquette of a handshake! This was galit‚ and Fraternit‚ exactly! If we had more time I knew all would have been willing for a little Libert‚ in our actions!

Our coach was ready to leave Riom at nine o'clock. At eight o'clock two good-sized parcels of herbs had arrived and had been stowed in place of the wicker basket. Our route to Paris would be the same as the one we came by. There had been discussion of taking a road to Montlucon and on to Bourges but we were informed that there were numerous hills to traverse and the road was slower so we set off to cheery waves both from the innkeeper but also from those two lads who put two fingers to their lips and blew kisses to Robin and me who were the postillions for this stage. What could we do but the same!

After two hours or so we stopped to water the horses and also the hedgerow and Jabez took Robin's place. I was ready. We had not gone more than a few yards when I put my finger by the side of my nose. "Jabez, I saw you with Mr Tuckwell!" was all I said.

The rogue looked straight at me. "You mean my Lord Falconer, no doubt!"

To be continued:

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