Heartstone

But, I thought, something else could have happened to explain that.

'I could get no sense from her. Her eyes were staring, she kept taking great whooping breaths but could not speak. Then she said fire, fire at the foundry. I ran and shouted for help and soon half Rolfswood was running there. I stayed with Ellen. They told me after that by the time people got there the whole enclosure was ablaze. All they found of Master Fettiplace and his man Peter Gratwyck was some charred bones. God rest their poor souls.'

'Goodman Harrydance said Ellen moved in here afterwards?'

'Yes.' He raised his chin. 'But there was nothing improper, I got Goodwife Wright, one of the Fettiplace servants, to come and stay.'

'How long did she remain?'

'Near two months. She never recovered from that night. At first she would barely talk at all, and would say nothing about what happened. If we asked her she would start crying or even screaming. It alarmed us. If someone knocked on my door she would jump or even scream and run to her room. After a while she could be got to talk a little of commonplace things, the weather and suchlike, but only to me or Goodwife Wright. And she wouldn't go outside, she would just shake her head wildly if I suggested it. She refused to see anyone else. Not even the young man people had said she would marry, Master Philip West, though he came several times. You could see in his face how troubled he was. I think he loved her.'

'He went to the King's ships, Goodman Harrydance said.'

'Yes, soon after. I think he had a broken heart. You see, the word was Philip West was going to propose to Ellen. His family had obtained a junior position for him at the King's court. He was often in London, but that summer the King had come on Progress to Sussex and Master West had ridden over to visit for the day.' Seckford shook his head sadly. 'Master Fettiplace would have been pleased for them to marry, for the Wests are a wealthy landowning family. And Master West was a handsome young fellow.'

'Are the West family still here?'

'Philip West's father died some years ago. His mother, Mistress Beatrice West, still manages his lands. He owns much round here, but leaves all the management in his mother's hands, only visiting when he is home from sea. She is a—formidable woman. She lives in a big house outside the town. Philip was here last month, when his ship arrived at Portsmouth.' He looked at me. 'I hear all the King's ships are coming there, and the King himself is on his way to review them.' The curate shook his head sorrowfully. 'We live in terrible times.'

'We do, sir.'

'I saw Philip West last month, passing down the main street on his horse. Still a handsome man but middle-aged now, and stern faced.' Seckford stood abruptly. 'Forgive me, sir. I made a resolution to drink no strong beer till the shadow on that cherry tree strikes the gate. But remembering all this—' He stepped to the buffet and took two pewter mugs. 'Will you drink with me, sir?'

'Thank you.'

He filled the mugs from the jug. He drank his straight off in a few gulps, sighed deeply and refilled it, before passing the other to me and lowering himself back into the chair.

'It was after they took Ellen away that I started drinking too much. It seemed so cruel, the foundry burning down, that poor girl with her wits gone. And I have to preach that God is merciful.' His plump face sagged into an expression of great sadness.

'And was Ellen the only witness to what happened?' I asked quietly.

Seckford frowned. 'Yes, and the coroner was very persistent in trying to get the story out of her.' His voice took on a harsh note. 'Mistress West wanted the matter out of the way so her son would not be reminded of it, and it would cease to be the talk of the locality. And the Wests could help Coroner Priddis's advancement. An ambitious man, our former coroner,' he concluded bitterly.

'I know of Priddis,' I said. 'He is now Sir Quintin, feodary of Hampshire. A post of some power.'

'So I have heard. The Priddis family were mere yeomen, but they were ambitious for their son and sent young Quintin to law.' The curate drained his mug. 'Ambition, sir, I believe it a curse. It makes men cold and hard. They should stay in the station God set them.' He sighed. 'Perhaps you will not agree.'

'I agree ambition may lead men into harshness.'

'Priddis was keen to be in with all the gentry. A busy, bustling little fellow. From the day after the fire he kept calling here, demanding to see Ellen and take a statement. But as I told you, she wouldn't see anyone. Master Priddis had to adjourn the inquests on Master Fettiplace and Peter several times. I think it rankled with him, his power thwarted by a mere girl. He had no sympathy for her state of mind.'

'Well, it was his duty to discover what happened.'

'The knave got his statement in the end. I'll tell you how.' Seckford took another mighty quaff of beer. Unlike Wilf he had shown no suspicion of me and it struck me there was something unworldly about him.

'After a few weeks Ellen improved, as I said, but still she would not say what had happened and she would not go out, not even to the church next door. She kept inventing excuses, became—crafty. Ellen Fettiplace, that had been so honest and open before. It saddened me. I think in the end she agreed to see Priddis so he would leave her alone. That was all she wanted now, to stay in this house with me and Jane Wright and never leave.'

'Were you there when he saw her?'

He shook his head. 'Priddis insisted it just be him and Goodwife Wright. They went into my kitchen over there and came out an hour later, Priddis looking pleased with himself. Next day he sent a draft statement to Ellen and she signed it. It said she and her father went to the foundry for a walk that evening, he wanted to check the delivery of some coke, they found Peter drunk and he fell into a fire he had made to warm himself. Peter's clothes caught fire and somehow William Fettiplace's did too. Priddis allowed the statement at the inquest without Ellen attending because of her state of mind. Got a verdict of accidental death.' Seckford slapped his fist angrily on the side of his chair. 'Case closed, tied up in red ribbon and put away.'

'You think Ellen's statement was untrue?'

He looked at me keenly. 'My guess is Master Priddis pieced together the little Ellen had said, worked it up into a likely chain of events and Ellen signed it to be rid of him. As I said, she had become calculating. They say that can happen to folks that are sick in their minds. She wanted only to be left alone.'

'What do you think really happened?'

He looked at me. 'I have no idea. But if the fire had only just started I do not see how Master Fettiplace at least could not have escaped.'

'Did he have any enemies?'

'None. No one wished him ill.'

'How did Ellen come to leave you?'

The curate leaned back in his chair. 'Oh sir, you ask me to remember the worst part of all.'

'I am sorry. I did not mean to press.'

'No, you should hear it to the end now.' Seckford got up, took my mug, waddled to the buffet and poured more beer.

'Goodwife Wright and I did not know what to do about Ellen. She had no relatives, she was heiress to her father's house here in Rolfswood, a little land, and the burnt-out foundry. I thought to keep her with us in the hope that eventually she might recover and be able to deal with her affairs. But Quintin Priddis took a hand again. Not long after the verdict he was back. Sat where you sit now and said it was improper for Ellen to remain here. He threatened to tell my vicar, and I knew he would order her put out.' Seckford drained his mug again.

I leaned forward. 'Goodman Harrydance said she was taken to London, to relatives.'