Iain Pears - An Instance of the Fingerpost

As he was unwilling, or unable, to play any manful part in the conversation, Sir William and I talked instead, and gradually almost forgot the presence of the foreigner in our midst. Sir William introduced him as a man with whom he had dealings in trade, for as Master of the Ordnance (his paltry reward for his labors on behalf of the king) he was thrown in contact with many foreign traders, and Cola’s father was, it seemed, a man of great power in such matters. Moreover, said Sir William, he and his family had been good friends to the great cause over the years, and now naturally wanted to supply some of those goods His Majesty needed.

I wished them well, and hoped they would both profit from the association for, if Sir William’s position gave him little standing, it held out instead the probability of considerable wealth. A dedicated Master of the Ordnance, taking what bribes and profits came his way, could amass a considerable fortune in a short time by controlling the army’s supplies, and Sir William was not wholly discontented with his position. He had, it must be said, greater need of money than honor at that time.

I suppose I can see why the presence of such a man would need to be kept discreetly quiet, although Cola’s delicacy in hiding such matters so long after the event strikes me as being excessively fine. For Sir William (as I have mentioned) was in dispute with my Lord Clarendon, and any man who angered the Lord Chancellor had to tread very carefully in the execution of his office. It mattered not that Clarendon had so joyously looted the treasury himself since the moment the king returned; his enemies had to beware, for what was encouraged in Clarendon’s friends was used to tear down his enemies. The more isolated he became, the more the attacks on those who wished to be rid of him grew in violence. The most ordinary behavior could be turned into a weapon, for Clarendon was not a lawyer for nothing. Taking the fruits of office could, in a twinkling of an eye, become bribery and corruption, and such matters have swept many an honest person from office.

“And now, Jack,” said Sir William after we had talked awhile, “you must allow me to say something in all seriousness. And do please listen until I have finished.”

I nodded.

“You are, no doubt, all too aware of the great matter that passed between your father and myself. I would like to make it as clear that I in no wise associate you with those events, even though you are his son. You will always be welcome in this house and my acquaintance.”

Partisan of my father though I was, I was aware of the deep goodness of that statement, if it came from true sincerity. I was inclined to believe that it did, for he had not the guile to dissimulate well, nor the hardness of heart to toy so cruelly with another. This made him a loyal friend, and a bad conspirator. The simplicity of his own soul made him unsuspecting of base motives in others, and so made him the perfect instrument for those wishing to bend the truth to their own ends.

“I thank you for those words,” I replied. “I did not expect such a welcome from you. I was afraid that circumstances had engendered some bitterness between us.”

“So they had,” he replied seriously. “But that was an error on my part. I wanted you out of my sight, because I could not stand the reminder your presence brought me. I now see this was cruel. You have never done me harm, and have suffered more than anyone.”

His statement brought a tear of gratitude to my eyes, as it had been a long time since anyone had talked to me with such kindness. I knew the limits of his generosity, for he believed absolutely in my father’s guilt, and, oddly, found I honored him the more for it. It is no easy business to embrace the child of a man who you think has done you such injury.

“That is certainly true,” I replied. “And I think I have been imposed on far more than was just. This is the cause of my visit. You were the trustee of my inheritance, and yet I have no inheritance. My lands are now in other hands, and my position is ruined. You may have considered that all bonds of loyalty between you and my father were dissolved, but your trust continued in that matter. So how is it that I am penniless now? I see from your face that this question disturbs you, and I do not in any way wish to level an accusation, but you must admit it is a fair question to ask.”

He nodded soberly. “It is, although my wonder is not that you ask, but that you do not know the answer already.”

“It is my understanding that I have been left with nothing at all. Is that correct?”

“Your fortune has been much diminished, it is true, but it has not been extinguished entirely. There is enough for you to rebuild, if you are industrious. And there is no place better for making a name than the Inns of Court, and no profession more suited for amassing wealth than the law. My Lord Clarendon,” he said with a smile of contempt, “has demonstrated that beyond contention.”

“But the estate was sold, even though entailed. How could that be?”

“Because your father insisted on assigning it as guarantee for his debts.”

“He could not do that.”

“No. But I could.”

I stared at him as he admitted this, and he looked uncomfortable at feeling my gaze rest on him.

“I had no choice. Your father came to me and begged. He said it was my duty as a friend and a comrade to help him. Having tied up his lands so they could not be confiscated if he should come into misfortune, he discovered that he could not use them to raise money either. He absolutely insisted that I act on his behalf, and authorize the loan. All I was required to do was sign the papers.”

“And you did.”

“I did. And later discovered he had not played absolutely fair with me. Or with his creditors, for he had raised several loans at the same time, pledging the estate many times over. After the debacle, I found myself liable for the debts as trustee. Had I been a rich man myself, I perhaps could have assisted, but you know, I think, something of my situation. And, I must be frank, I was not in the humor to be generous at that time.”

“So the estate was dissolved.”

“No. Even so we did our best to keep it in your family. Your uncle bought it and I insisted on a clause that, should you ever be in a position to pay cash down, he would sell the land back to you. We also reached a settlement with the creditors; a generous settlement, I must say, for they accepted much less than they were owed; only some land was sold out of the family entire.”

“Including Harland Wyte, which will be the most valuable of all the land when it is drained. How come that was sold to the man who accused my father in the first place?”

Sir William looked surprised at the depth of my knowledge, and paused before he spoke again. “No,” he said after a short while. “Sir Samuel did not act with great generosity of spirit, I must say, but we had little choice. You must remember that the revelations about your father were initially known to only a very few people and it was imperative to keep it so. The moment his creditors heard a whiff of the matter, they would have swooped immediately. We needed time, and needed Morland to keep quiet. I regret to say that his consent was expensive. The sale of Harland Wyte at an advantageous price to him bought us eight weeks in which to act.”

I bowed my head in the greatest of sadness, for I did not doubt that he was telling me the absolute truth as he saw it. I was heartily glad of it; I had encountered so much duplicity in the past few months that I no longer expected to meet an honest man and, I fear, was overinclined to harbor suspicions. In his way Sir William was betrayed every bit as much as my father had been, for his goodness had been perverted to evil ends. I knew that sooner or later I would have to tell him so, lay bare the whole scandalous history and confront him with what he had done in all innocence and with the very best of intentions. It concerned me, for I was afraid it would break his heart. And I also knew that I, as much as those evil men, would have to stoke up the fires of his wrath so that he would fight to correct the injustices in which he had participated.