Iain Pears - An Instance of the Fingerpost

Without waiting, I ran from the room, down the stairs, shouting for guards to follow me as swiftly as possible. And I stood, like Horatius Codes himself, barring the way to Parliament Stairs, the waiting boats and Cola’s only chance of escape.

I had no notion of what to do next. I was quite unarmed, perfectly alone and without any means of defending myself against a man whose murderous skills were well attested. But my desire and my duty impelled me forward, for I was determined he should not escape me, and the revenge I was bound to seek.

Had Cola pulled his weapon and lunged at me the moment he saw me standing in front of him, his escape would have been certain and my death equally assured. I had only surprise in my armory, and I was quite aware that it was but a feeble weapon.

It worked, nonetheless, for when Cola did see me, he was so astonished that he did not know how to react.

“Dr. Wallis!” he said, and even managed a smile of what could almost have passed as pleasure. “You were the last person I expected to see here.”

“I am aware of that. Might I enquire what you are doing?”

“I am seeing the sights, sir,” he replied. “Before beginning my journey home, which I plan to do tomorrow.”

“I think not,” I said with relief, for I could see soldiers approaching over the courtyard. “I think your journey is already at an end.”

He turned round to see what I was looking at, then his face frowned with puzzlement and dismay.

“I am betrayed, I see,” he said, and I breathed a great sigh of relief.

He was taken, with no fuss or disturbance, to a room off Fish Yard, and I went with him. Mr. Bennet went to find His Majesty that he might be informed of events and also, I believe, to inform Lord Clarendon that the danger was at an end. For my part, I felt dizzy with my success and gave thanks that I had discovered the man before, rather than after, he had caused any damage. I saw him locked in, then began to question him closely, although for all the information I collected, I might as well have saved my breath.

Cola’s bravado amazed me, for he affected to be delighted at the sight of me, despite the circumstances. He was pleased, he said, to see an old face.

“I have felt myself very solitary since I left your fine town, Dr. Walk’s,” he said. “I do not find the people of London greatly welcoming.”

“I cannot imagine why. But you were hardly a popular figure in Oxford when you left, either.”

He looked distressed at the comment. “It seems not. Although I am quite unaware of what I did to deserve such churlishness. You have heard of my dispute with Mr. Lower, I imagine? He mistreated me very badly, I do not mind telling you, and I am at a loss to explain why. I shared all my ideas with him, and was sorely treated in return.”

“Maybe he learned more about you than your ideas, and was not pleased to be harboring such a person. No man likes to be deceived, and if he was too gentlemanly to challenge you openly, it is not discourteous to indicate annoyance.”

A crafty look of caution came over his bland, wide face as he sat down opposite and studied me with what seemed to be vague amusement.

“I suppose I have to thank you for that, do I? Mr. Lower told me you were forever burrowing your nose in other people’s business, and occupying yourself with matters that were none of your affair.”

“I may claim that honor,” I said, determined not to be drawn by his offensive tone. “I act for the good of the country and its legitimate government.”

“I’m glad to hear it. So should all men do so. I like to think of myself as equally loyal.”

“I believe you are. You proved that in Candia, did you not?”

His eyes narrowed at my demonstration of knowledge. “I was not aware that my fame had spread so far.”

“And you knew Sir James Prestcott as well?”

“Oh, I see,” he replied, a false understanding dawning. “You had it from that strange son of his. You must not believe everything you hear from that young man. He has the most bizarre of delusions about anything and anyone connected to his honored father. He is quite capable of inventing any tale about me in order to reflect glory on that poor man.” “I can hardly think of Sir James as a poor man.” “Can you not? I met him under different circumstances, when he was reduced to selling his sword for hire, and with scarcely a penny to his name. A sad fall, that, when no one of his fellows would reach out a hand to help him. Can you really condemn him so much? What loyalty did he owe anyone by then? He was the bravest of men, the most courageous of comrades, and I honor his memory as much as I lament his end.”

“And so you come to England yourself, and tell no one of your own bravery?”

“A period of my life which is entirely at an end. I do not wish to recall it.”

“You associate with the king’s enemies wherever you go.”

“They are not my enemies. I associate with whomever pleases me, and whom I find good company.”

“I want my letters back. The ones you stole from my room.”

He paused, then smiled. “I know of no letters, sir. Search me and my belongings if you wish, but I may say I resent the imputation that I am a thief. Such things should not be said lightly by one gentleman to another.”

“Tell me about my Lord Bristol.”

“I must say I am not acquainted with the gentleman.”

His face was entirely passive, and he looked me evenly and unflinchingly in the eye as he came out with this denial.

“Of course not,” I said. “Nor have you heard of Lord Clarendon.”

“He? Oh indeed. Who could not have heard of the Lord Chancellor? Naturally I have heard of him. Although I do not know what the question signifies.”

“Tell me about Sir William Compton.”

Cola sighed. “What a lot of questions you ask! Sir William, as you know, was a friend of Sir James. He told me that if I ever came on a tour to England that Sir William would be glad to offer me hospitality. Which he most generously did.”

“And was attacked for his pains.”

“Not by me, as that seems to be the implication of your statement. I understand young Prestcott did that. I merely kept him alive. And no one will deny I did a fine job.”

“Sir James Prestcott betrayed Sir William Compton, and was detested by him. You expect me to believe he would willingly ask you into his house?”

“He did. As for the detestation, I saw no sign of it. Whatever enmity there was, must have died with him.”

“You discussed the murder of the Lord Chancellor with Sir William.”

The change in the Italian’s demeanor as I made this statement was remarkable. From an easygoing affability, the manner of a man who feels himself in no danger at all, he stiffened; only slightly, but the difference was extreme. From here on, I could sense he watched his words more carefully. At the same time, though, the air of amusement persisted in some fashion, as though he was still confident enough to anticipate no great danger for himself.

“Is that what this is about? We discussed many things.”

“Including an ambush on the road to Cornbury.”

“English roads, I gather, are full of perils for the unwary.”

“Do you deny you placed a bottle with poison in it for me to drink that night in New College?”

Here he began to look exasperated. “Dr. Walk’s, you are beginning to weary me greatly. You ask about the attack on Sir William Compton, even though Jack Prestcott was charged with the crime and all but owned his authorship by his escape. You ask about the death of Dr. Grove, even though that girl was not only hanged for the offense but even confessed to it quite voluntarily. You ask about discussions on Lord Clarendon’s safety, even though I am here, quite openly, in London, and the chancellor is in excellent health. May that happy state continue for him. So what is your purpose?”