The Tintern Treasure

TWENTY

I laughed. I thought he was joking. Then I saw that he wasn’t. He was perfectly serious and there was a hard look in his eyes that I had never seen before. The genial wine merchant had vanished. This was a man with a purpose.

There was another change, also. The two men seemed to have switched roles. Gilbert Foliot was suddenly the subordinate, looking to his friend for instructions, and I realized that their previous relationship had been a blind for the true state of affairs. I remembered, too, Lawyer Heathersett’s warning that the goldsmith was not ‘the only man you need to look at in this town’. And there had been young Martin Callowhill’s description of his father — a man of ambition and pride in his ancestry — that had not tallied with the man I thought I knew.

The meeting in Wales had not been accidental, either. I now felt sure of that. No doubt as soon as Sir Lionel had passed on Walter Gurney’s information to his friend, Gilbert Foliot had, in his turn, relayed it to Henry Callowhill. The two men had gone there together to test the soundness or otherwise of the knight’s theory. .

I put the leather bag into the pouch at my belt and backed away until I could feel the far parlour wall behind me. They were two to one and there was bound to be a fight. Not only did I have what they wanted, but I now knew them for Henry Tudor’s men, traitors to King Richard, whose agent and spy they thought I was. If it came to taking my word against theirs, they must feel certain that I should be believed.

Neither man, however, made an immediate move to wrest my pouch from me. Instead, Gilbert Foliot turned to his friend. ‘There’s no Breton ship at present in harbour, nor will be for a week or two. The winter weather’s closing in and sailings will be less.’

Henry Callowhill shrugged. ‘We must follow Bray to Cornwall. He’s making for Rame Head where he told me a ship will lie offshore, somewhere between there and Penlee Point, as soon as it arrives from Brittany. We must go now. Today. As soon as you return home, send a message to Sir Lionel informing him of our intentions and tell him to join us as soon as he can.’

‘Today?’ the goldsmith queried, horrified.

‘As things have turned out, we’ve no choice.’ His friend sounded impatient. ‘You must see that! If we’d found the jewels ourselves, it would have been a different matter. As it is. .’ He let the sentence hang.

‘But if, when we get to Cornwall, we find that Reynold has already sailed?’

Reynold Bray! Of course! I had in the past heard Timothy speak of this most loyal and capable of Henry Tudor’s agents.

The wine merchant shrugged again. ‘We must wait until we can find a ship willing to carry us to Less Britain.’ I was interested, in spite of myself, to note that he used the old, archaic name for Brittany.

‘And our families?’

‘My dear Gilbert!’ The impatience was fast turning to anger. ‘What do our families matter? What indeed do we matter in comparison with the Cause?’ He spoke the last word with all the reverence of one referring to a holy crusade.

‘But what about him?’ The goldsmith nodded towards me. ‘First of all we have to take the diamonds from him, and then. . And then. . Well, we can’t leave him alive, can we?’ He looked a little sick. ‘But if we kill him, everyone will know who did it. We were seen talking to Mistress Chapman at the High Cross. We must have been seen walking down the street. And it wouldn’t be Bristol if someone hadn’t observed us being let into the house. The hue and cry will be raised before we’re fairly clear of the city and the posse comitatus will be after us in the blink of an eye.’ A hysterical note sounded in his voice. ‘We’re trapped!’

‘Trapped?’ Henry Callowhill smiled. ‘I don’t think so!’ And, before I could make the slightest guess as to his intentions, he spun round and caught Adam such a stunning blow to the side of his head that the child dropped unconscious to the floor. Then he stooped and picked him up, slinging him across his left shoulder like a sack of flour.

I had completely forgotten my son — he had been so quiet, standing at one side of the room watching, I supposed, the unfolding of events and trying to work out what exactly was going on. He would not have been frightened by the two men; he knew them too well by sight.

I started forward, but Gilbert Foliot was too quick for me. He had drawn his dagger and was barring my path. The wine merchant, too, had his dagger in his hand, but was pointing it not at me, but at Adam’s back.

‘I shan’t hesitate to use it, Roger,’ he said quietly. And I believed him. He was a desperate man. He went on, ‘Give the bag containing the diamonds to Master Foliot, then move back again and I’ll tell you what’s going to happen.’

I did as I was told. I had no choice. My son’s life was at stake.

‘Go on,’ I said harshly.

Henry Callowhill had put away his dagger — although the goldsmith still had his drawn and was standing at the ready — and with his free right hand pulled the left-hand side of his cloak across the child’s inert form.

‘Master Foliot and I will now leave you, Roger,’ he said. ‘If you tell anyone in authority — your friend Sergeant Manifold, for instance — what has happened, you will never see your son again.’

‘What are you going to do with him?’ I asked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe properly.

The wine merchant smiled. I was beginning to hate that smile.

‘I shall put him somewhere safe,’ he said. ‘Somewhere where he can’t easily be discovered.’ I made an inarticulate sound and the smile deepened. ‘Don’t try looking for him because you won’t find him. Now, if Master Foliot and I — and, I trust, Sir Lionel — reach Cornwall in safety and find a ship waiting for us, just before we embark, I’ll send someone back to Bristol with a message for you to tell you where your son is.’

‘But that could take weeks!’ I shouted, pushing myself away from the wall. But before I could make a grab for Adam, Gilbert Foliot had his dagger at my throat.

‘Stand still,’ he warned.

But I was barely aware of him. ‘You can’t do that!’ I pleaded with Henry Callowhill. ‘Alone, in the dark, without food and water for heaven knows how long, the boy could die. You must know he could!’

‘He’ll have air,’ the wine merchant promised. ‘And with good horses under us, Master Foliot and I should reach Cornwall — and it is the north of Cornwall, after all, not far to the west of Plymouth — in a couple of days. Three at most. He looks a strong lad. He should survive that.’

‘He’ll be terrified,’ I said. ‘And supposing, as Master Foliot suggested just now, the ship being sent for Master Bray has already arrived and sailed?’ I had been doing frantic calculations in my head, and worked out that it was almost a week since the man I now knew to be Reynold Bray had set out from Keynsham for Cornwall.

The wine merchant pulled down the corners of his mouth.‘In that case, Master Foliot and I will be forced to return to Plymouth to try to find a ship bound for Less Britain from there. So let us hope that our worst fears aren’t realized. But whenever we sail, provided that no one has come to arrest us, I shall keep my promise to try to send you word where your son is hidden.’

‘You can’t subject a child of five years old to this ordeal,’ I croaked. My mouth was dry, my throat constricted. ‘Just kill me instead. Let the child go and just kill me. I won’t put up any resistance.’

Once more Henry Callowhill gave that hateful smile.

‘Very noble, Roger,’ he said. ‘And a gesture which, as a father myself, I can appreciate. But Gilbert here has already explained why we couldn’t do that. No, I’m afraid this is the only way to ensure your silence and our chance of freedom. Our welcome at Henry Tudor’s court will be assured when we present him with the Capet diamonds.’ He laughed suddenly, a full-bodied chuckle of genuine amusement. ‘And to think that your daughter had them all along! She must have hidden them well for Sir Lionel’s men not to have found them. I see,’ he added, ‘that my revelation doesn’t come as a surprise to you. You knew who was responsible for the break-ins?’

‘I worked it out.’

Where, oh where was Adela? Why didn’t she return home? Her entry into the house, with a dog and three children, might at least prove sufficient distraction to allow me time to do something. What, I had no idea, but any chance was better than none. Yet I knew it wasn’t going to happen. When Adela and Margaret Walker got together they could talk for hours. What they found to say to one another was a mystery to me, and my wife, when questioned on the subject, always replied, ‘Oh, nothing much.’

Henry Callowhill hoisted the still unconscious Adam further up his shoulder and arranged the cloak so that it covered my son’s head. He could have been carrying anything, and in the wind and the rain that was now falling — I could hear it pattering against the windows — no one was going to pay much attention to a couple of men in an obvious hurry to get home.

‘We must be going,’ he said to the goldsmith. ‘We’ve a great deal to do and we must be away before nightfall.’

I made one last, desperate appeal.

‘Leave Adam here,’ I pleaded hoarsely, ‘and I give you my word that I will say nothing to anyone about any of this. Take the diamonds; take them to Henry Tudor with my blessing.’

Henry Callowhill shook his head.

‘You wouldn’t be able to do it, Roger,’ he said. ‘Your loyalty to Richard is too great. You wouldn’t be able to keep a still tongue in your head. Besides, the boy would talk. He heard enough of what was being said before I laid him out. He’d be bound to ask you questions and say things to other people. He’s a sharp little fellow. No. I’m sorry, but this is the only way. I’ve no wish to die a traitor’s death, and neither has Gilbert. So. .’ He turned to his friend. ‘Cover my back until we’re in the street. If Roger makes a move, kill the child.’

And then they were gone. I heard the outer door bang to and the sudden, terrible all-pervading silence of the house while I stood as though rooted to the spot, unable either to move or even to think for what seemed like an eternity, but in reality was probably only a few minutes. Then, on legs that would scarcely hold me upright, I staggered to the street door and wrenched it open, staring out into the wind and the rain, but there was no one in sight.

‘You mean you didn’t go after them?’ screeched Adela. ‘You made no attempt to get Adam back?’ Her face was chalk white and tear-stained. Elizabeth and Nicholas huddled together, staring at me accusingly with round, fearful eyes. Hercules began to bark, suddenly aware of the tension in the atmosphere. Even Luke was whimpering fretfully. ‘Why, in God’s name, didn’t you go straight to Richard Manifold? He would have arrested them before they had a chance to get clear of the town.’

‘Don’t you understand? I couldn’t risk it!’ I shouted back. ‘One or the other of them would have killed Adam out of sheer vindictiveness. If, that is, they hadn’t by that time disposed of him in this secret place Henry Callowhill was talking of. And then we’d never have seen him alive again.’

‘We. . We shan’t see him alive again anyway,’ she gasped, sitting down on one of the kitchen stools and rocking herself to and fro. ‘He’ll be dead before those two can send word back from Cornwall. If they ever do!’ My wife was seized with another spasm of sobbing so severe that she could hardly breathe. When at last she was able to speak, she demanded, ‘Didn’t it once occur to you that they didn’t mean what they said? That it was a trick to ensure your silence? That they’re going to kill Adam anyway?’

I nodded dismally, for the thought had come to me but not, although I wouldn’t admit it, until too late. ‘Where are you going?’ I demanded as Adela got abruptly to her feet.

‘To see Richard and tell him the whole. He’s a friend. He’ll not endanger Adam’s life. He’ll do as I ask and say nothing, but he might be able to help.’

‘No!’ I grasped her firmly by the shoulders. ‘You can’t involve him, and he wouldn’t do it in any case. Don’t you understand? We’re committing a felony. Misprision of treason! Concealing knowledge of a treasonable act. We can’t ask Richard’s silence. And I doubt he would give it. He’s an officer of the law and knows the penalty. At least, if the worst comes to the worst, I can throw myself on the king’s mercy and appeal to him as one father to another.’

Adela began to tremble violently. I forced her to sit down again and fetched her a beaker of water. ‘So what can we do?’ she whispered.

‘I must try to find Adam before those two villains — three, I suppose, with Lionel Despenser — have time to get too far on the road to Cornwall. Before it’s too late for a posse to be sent after them.’ I spoke with more confidence than I felt. ‘I think it’s just possible that I know where they might have hidden him.’

‘Where? Where, Roger? Tell me!’ I saw the hope leap in her eyes and felt guilty to have raised her expectations too high.

‘Sweetheart, don’t. . don’t. . It’s just that Henry Callowhill himself once told me that Master Foliot had a special underground strongroom built under the cellars at the St Mary le Port Street shop after he ceased to live there and moved to the house in St Peter’s Street. It’s possible that that’s where they‘ve put Adam and that either Ursula or Mistress Dawes knows where the key to it is.’

‘Then what are you waiting for?’ my wife demanded, pushing me in the direction of the door. ‘Go now! Go at once, this minute! Just go!’

I found the two women in a state of shock and near hysterics. When I could finally get any sense out of them at all, I gathered that Gilbert Foliot had returned home long enough to saddle his horse, pack a few garments and other necessaries in a couple of saddle-bags and then ride for the Redcliffe Gate. He had told them briefly that he and Henry Callowhill were joining Henry Tudor in Brittany and that they were henceforth on their own until such time as the latter returned in triumph to claim the crown. As neither woman believed that this would ever happen, they saw themselves as abandoned and penniless, and Ursula as the daughter of an attainted traitor. Margery Dawes could at least find other employment and, meantime, cast herself on the generosity of her kinsman, Lawyer Heathersett.

Brutally, I interrupted their lamentations.‘Did Master Foliot have my son with him?’ I yelled at them. ‘Will you both be quiet for a moment and attend to me!’

I seized Ursula and shook her hard. She was so surprised that she stopped crying and goggled at me. The housekeeper, too, was shocked into silence. Taking advantage of the sudden hush, I explained what had happened as well as I was able given my state of mind. I doubt if they understood anything very clearly, but at last they grasped the essential fact that Adam had been taken hostage and hidden somewhere as the price for my holding my tongue. When I suggested that the underground strongroom in St Mary le Port Street could be the place, Margery Dawes said at once that she knew where the keys to both it and the shop were kept. My heart began to slam against my ribs, and by the time she returned to the parlour with a bunch of keys dangling from her fingers, I had to fight to get my breath.

Barely pausing to utter my thanks, I left the house, the precious bunch clutched in my hand. Even now, after all these years, I can remember nothing of how I reached the shop nor of unlocking any doors or of searching the house and cellars. However, I do recall my agony of mind as I tried to locate the door to the strongroom and the way I yelled Adam’s name over and over again in the hope that, if he were imprisoned there, he would shout in return.

But there was no answering cry.

I had discovered candles and tinderbox in the kitchen of the old living quarters and, eventually, by the light of the flickering candle flame managed to find, in the farthest, darkest corner of the cellar, another door. My hands trembled so much that I had the greatest difficulty in fitting one key after another into the lock and cursing myself every time I failed, unsure if it was my clumsiness or the fact that I had not yet tried the right key that was responsible for my failure. Finally, however, the wards grated and turned and the door swung reluctantly inwards.

‘Adam!’ I called.

Silence.

All around me the glitter of gold was caught by the candle flame. Here, the goldsmith’s wares were stacked on shelves, waiting to be transferred, when necessary, to the shop — something that would never happen now. My hand shook and a drop of hot grease fell on my wrist, making me jump.

‘Adam!’ I cried again.

But the place was empty. He wasn’t there.

It is impossible to describe my feelings at that moment. I remember that I felt sick, so much so that I actually heaved and felt the bile rise in my throat. It seemed as though a black cloud had enveloped my mind, and I had, almost literally, to fight my way free of it, using all my willpower to prevent myself from just sinking down by the cellar wall and giving way to grief. I had been so certain that I had the answer to the problem that the disappointment was even more intense than it would otherwise have been. Indeed, I went so far as to search every corner of the strongroom in the ridiculous hope that I had somehow overlooked my son hiding in the shadows.

Finally, however, I came to my senses and forced myself to consider what I must do next. The thought of returning to Adela without Adam was unbearable, as was the realization that if I failed to discover where he was hidden I should have no option, if I were not to involve the rest of my family in treason, but to go to the sheriff with my story.

It was then that I thought of Mistress Callowhill.

I walked — or half-ran — back to Wine Street and hammered at the door of the wine merchant’s house. One of the men servants answered it and abruptly refused me admission. The master was from home and the mistress could see no one.

I wedged my foot in the door before he could close it.

‘I know your master’s not here,’ I said grimly. ‘I want to speak to Mistress Callowhill and I intend to do so.’

The man did his best to prevent me, but was no match for my height and weight. I pushed him aside easily enough, prepared to search the whole house until I ran my quarry to earth. But this, thankfully, proved to be unnecessary: the wine merchant’s wife and children were seated around the table in the parlour, the elder son, Martin, and his mother obviously discussing the situation and what was to be done. The younger boy and girl looked scared and had been weeping, judging by their tear-stained cheeks. All four were ashen-faced and when I threw open the door, jumped up with startled cries and then stood as though turned to stone.

Martin was the first to recover the use of his voice. ‘My father isn’t here, Master Chapman. I–I’m afraid I must ask you to leave. Something has happened which — ’

‘I know what’s happened,’ I snarled, making him flinch. ‘I know exactly what’s happened! What I want to know is what that traitor has done with my son? Where’s Adam?’

Mistress Callowhill whirled back to face her own son. ‘Don’t tell him!’ she shrieked.

My heart gave a great leap. She knew! This woman knew where Adam was imprisoned. Without stopping to think, she had given herself away.

I didn’t hesitate. As she sank down again in her chair, my knife was at her throat.

‘Tell me!’ I demanded. The tip of the blade pricked her skin. The blood welled and trickled down her neck, a thin ribbon of crimson.

The younger children started to scream and two of the servants burst in, only to be brought up short by the sight of my knife. I’ve often wondered since if I would have had the courage to use it and how different my life would have been if I had. Or indeed, if I would have had a life at all. Looking back on the scene, I firmly believe I was insane enough with fear and grief to have done something desperate.

But I was spared the decision.

‘Mother,’ Martin said quietly, although his voice shook, ‘we can’t be responsible for a child’s death. I must tell Master Chapman where the boy is hidden.’

‘No!’ Mistress Callowhill’s voice rose hysterically. ‘If he finds him, he’ll inform Sergeant Manifold immediately and your father will have lost any chance of getting away. And you know what will happen to him! You know how traitors die!’ The lad shuddered as his mother went on more quietly, ‘There’s every chance your father and the other two will reach Cornwall in a day or so. If he sends back word at once to Master Chapman there’s a possibility that the boy might still be alive.’

I saw Martin hesitate and indecision flicker in his eyes.

‘Martin, if you know where Adam’s hidden, I beg you to tell me,’ I said hoarsely. ‘He’s five years old and must be terrified, waking up alone in the dark, not knowing where he is or what’s happened to him.’

‘If you tell him, Martin,’ Mistress Callowhill said slowly, ‘I shall never forgive you. From henceforward, you will be no son of mine.’

Another moment stretched into eternity and the boy’s hand crept up to his mouth, his gaze flickering between the two of us. Then he said, ‘I’m sorry, Mother.’ My legs almost gave way with relief and it was a second or two before I realized that Martin was addressing me. ‘We’ll have to go to Master Foliot’s house to get his keys.’

I could have wept with joy.

‘I already have them,’ I gasped, pulling them out of my pouch. ‘I thought Adam might be in the goldsmith’s strongroom, but he wasn’t there.’

Martin gave a quick nod as though that somehow settled matters. ‘Follow me then,’ he said.

‘Martin!’ Mistress Callowhill’s voice was now as cold as ice. I felt as if melt water were trickling down my spine. ‘If you do this thing, don’t come back.’

He looked at her pityingly, speaking with a composure far beyond his years. ‘I shall come back, Mother. You and the children will need looking after.’ He turned and left the room.

I followed him out into the street. It was still raining, but the wind, though strong, had eased a little.‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘To St Peter’s Church.’ When I exclaimed in surprise, he went on, ‘Do you know the story of how the citizens of Bristol built a wall between the town and the castle during the reign of Edward II?’ I nodded, at the same time forcing him to quicken his pace. ‘Well,’ he continued, ‘according to Master Foliot, the constable of the castle ordered that a tunnel should be dug underneath the wall so that his soldiers could take the people by surprise. Unfortunately for the tunnellers, they broke through in the crypt of St Peter’s Church where members of the patrol who manned the wall every night were warming themselves before going outside again. They immediately drove the intruders back, killing a couple for good measure, then one of them ran to ring the common bell, alerting the whole city to the danger. Lord Berkeley never tried anything of the sort again, and in commemoration of their victory the tunnel was preserved. Master Foliot showed it to me the day he took us around the church. In later years, a door was put at the crypt end and always kept locked for safety‘s sake.’

‘And you think Adam’s there?’

‘I know he is. My father told me so before he left.’

And he was, terrified, sobbing, crouched against the wall halfway along the tunnel which I saw to my horror might well have collapsed, suffocating him. After well over a century and a half, the timbers with which it had been shored up were beginning to rot and the roof was in danger of caving in. I think Martin saw it, too, and it was some comfort to him to know that he had prevented a child’s death, even if he had risked his father’s life to do so.

For the four men — Henry Callowhill, Gilbert Foliot, Sir Lionel and Henry Tudor’s loyal adherent, Reynold Bray — all escaped to Brittany. The talk of Cornwall had been a blind. Wales had been their true destination where a ship had been waiting to take Bray on board at Milford Haven. And the Capet diamonds undoubtedly helped to pay the mercenaries who were responsible for Henry’s triumph two years later. .

But that’s to look forward to an event which, in that late autumn of 1483, seemed inconceivable to any of us. King Richard III ruled the country with justice and mercy and all was well with our world.

Adam recovered from his ordeal faster than either Adela or I would have thought possible, as children do. There were nightmares at first, but they gradually ceased, as did his tendency hang around Adela’s skirts all the time. He was very quiet for about two weeks, which worried us, but then his voice came back and our peace was shattered. Luke loved him and screamed with laughter at his antics, a devotion which annoyed Hercules so much that he returned to his old loyalties and became my dog once again. (I tried not to feel too pleased, but human nature being what it is I didn’t quite succeed.)

Mistress Callowhill and her children left the house in Wine Street and went no one knew where. The house in St Peter’s Street also stood empty. Ursula went to live with a distant relative in Malmesbury and Margery Dawes with Lawyer Heathersett and his mother.

One night towards the end of November, as I climbed into bed with Adela, I said, ‘I’m really looking forward to Christmas.’

As she slid into my embrace, she laughed. ‘That’s a bad sign. When you look forward to something, it invariably goes awry.’