The Two Confessions John Whitbourn (best books for students to read txt) 📖

Sothey'd heard. Again they signalled approval. A bit of humility from thisyoungster was very welcome. Rumour said he was a man of account in his ownworld, an employer of hundreds and worth all his audience put together. Therewas the potential for older, less lucky, noses to be put out of joint by that.For a few decades it would still be open for the ill-disposed to say 'atleast they knew where they came from - and it wasn't from some orphanage or theranks of the London Watch either.’ Samuel was painstaking in not giving anycause for that. The first few steps of the social ladder were the leastforgiving of slips.

‘I'mtold,’ he said, seeing the audience were still waiting for more, ‘that there'ssomething to putting seven three-quarter turns down the barrel. The bulletflies further and more true by virtue of the spin imparted. Though quite whythat should be so....’

MrFarncombe prided himself on his keen local patriotism and knowledge of Lewes'more famous sons. Samuel had feigned ignorance with that in mind.

‘Theblessed Isaac Newton pursued that puzzle whilst resident at Southover,’Farncombe informed them. ‘I recall some treatment of it in his 'TheAtmospheric Mechanism' - it's little read now of course, overshadowed byhis works of revelation.’

Noone was in a position to dispute it. With 'magic' readily to hand (or for hire)few inquiring minds - and none of the more practically inclined - took muchnote of 'the lower sciences'. Interest in them was associated with thewell-to-do with nothing better to do. Even the wide ranging intellect of thegreat Newton himself, once informed of the 'Universal Ether' in whichall things moved and were interconnected, had speedily abandoned study of themerely material world.

Everafter, his 'discovery' was taught, however sketchily, in every sort of school,and all but the shepherding classes had heard of it. Accordingly, vaguelyremembered notions of a seamless robe of being, an unbroken linkage between manand the Deity itself, arrived to dampen conversation. They were being listenedto, their words recorded, and thus it didn't do to be too worldly-wise.

Inthe lull, a hired-for-the-day footman accosted the group with a tray of Sussexwhite wine. Samuel declined, as was his invariable custom. The only alcoholever to cross his lips was that dispensed at Mass. At all other times he was astrict abstainer. Mr Farncombe noted it approvingly. Life in ‘Babylondon’,where temptation beckoned night and day, and all things went to pot, had leftno - visible - stain on Trevan's good character.

‘Onehears,’ resumed the owner of the 'Lewes Times & Pious Intelligencer',‘that you are well in with the military. Guaranteed trade with big spenders,eh?’

‘Ihave my contacts,’ Samuel confirmed, politely enough but not willing to givethe man claw-purchase on a 'story'. ‘They spread as word spreads....’

‘Really?’asked another man. ‘How so?’

Theywanted more and wouldn't be satisfied otherwise. And Samuel was happy to obligethem - in non-specific fashion - till the cows came home.

‘Well,to give an example: a colonel of Foot recently expended his own cash to riflearm his best company, and achieved great results, so he tells me, in the Welshbandit country. Similarly, a ship's captain who equipped his marines from mecleared the rigging of a Greenland privateer before it even got to musketrange. These people talk amongst themselves of course, and, if you're liberalwith discounts, they can be loyal friends to a businessman.’

‘Likekeeping the Trade Guilds off your back, I dare say!’ chortled the holder of thelocal salt monopoly - who had no such problems.

Thatwas a sore point, and doubtless chosen as such. A lot of Samuel's profits wentinto that particular noisome pit. He'd learnt that even supposedly respectableorganisations, half a millennium old and Church approved, could be as rapaciousas any blackmailer.

‘What'sa Trade Guild?’ he riposted cheerfully - and got a laugh out of it.

Theselect gathering in Galen House's suntrap orangery had gotten to be mostconvivial. Midway between the pieties of Mass in the vast priory church (biggerthan Chichester Cathedral itself!) and anticipation of a happy announcement tocome, people were enticed into edging - just slightly - out of their protectiveshells. There was ideal spring weather, a bearable number of industrious bees,and unstinted refreshments. This was a good spell, a stable era,conducive to trade, accumulation and long perspectives. They were happilyunaware that Charles IV's long reign would end in the 'Commotion Times'.For them, at present, all was well.

‘Lovethe gig-and-two, by the way,’ said a portly man, a speculator in horse stockfrom over Glynde way. ‘Always look out for it when you're visiting. Veryflash.’

Samuelsaw the chiding, protective glance that comment earned from Farncombe. Clearlyhe didn't like the familiar tone. Samuel rejoiced. It showed he was in.

‘Nottoo much, though,’ the man swiftly added, mending fences. ‘Befits yournew station - lets Lewes folk know the score - like it a lot!’

‘Aha!’

MrFarncombe had spied a new arrival in the room and suddenly became hyperactivehost and circus ringmaster rolled into one.

‘Right!Now, gentlemen, have I shown you all my latest purchase? A square of Romanmosaic pavement lately uncovered at... where was it, Samuel?’

Inhis campaign to woo the whole family, Trevan had noted Mr Farncombe'santiquarian interests and diligently made himself knowledgeable in the field.In the smarter circles it was becoming almost expected for a gentleman topursue a non-remunerative hobby. This one suited Samuel as well as any other.

‘Fishbourne,sir,’ he answered, tonelessly. ‘Near Selsey.’ His attention was unmistakablyelsewhere.

‘YoungTrevan authenticated it for me,’ said Farncombe. ‘Alas, these dealers can besuch fakers and rogues. The pattern is near complete over the space of a yard!I intend to mount it on my study wall. Come....’

Hiscronies and contacts obediently followed, though the horse-trader lingered fora final friendly word with Samuel.

‘I'dsooner look at your latest acquisition,’ he confided softly. The man wasknown to be a voluptuary; his house as well stocked with human fillies as hisstables were with the equine sort. But it was delivered in a fatherly ratherthan salacious fashion and acceptable as such. Fortunately, he judged hisaudience enough to forego the intended follow-up about 'which he'd soonermount as well….’

ThenSamuel and Melissa Farncombe were alone - for only the second time ever. A lothad happened since that first encounter in Church Twitten – and