Brian Jacques - [Flying Dutchman 01] - Castaways of the Flying Dutchman

Mr. Bowe, who tried stepping to one side, flinched as the strong arm of the law captured his shoulder.

Sergeant Patterson whispered confidentially in his ear. “Now now, sir, don’t want tae show ourselves up tae all the folk around here, do we? You and the young lady come quietly, ah’ve got four of your employees in mah holding cell on a vehicle theft charge. They’re making all sorts of accusations against Bowe and company. Ah’m sure it’s all quite unsubstantiated, but Ah’d just like ye tae take a stroll up there and we’ll sort it all out.”

Mr. Mackay folded the scroll and handed it to the old seaman. Mrs. Winn linked arms with the solicitor. “Well, seeing as all the business is done, let’s go for lunch. Mrs. Evans has invited us all over to the Tea Shoppe for a celebration!” Waving her gloves, the old lady called out to her young friends. “Come on, you three, bring Ned, too. It’s free ice cream today!”

Mr. Mackay straightened his cravat. “Just a moment, marm.” He turned to the magistrate. “Excuse me, sir, perhaps you’d like to join us.”

Distancing himself from the company shareholders, the magistrate smiled his approval. “It would be a pleasure,

46

EVANS TEA SHOPPE PUT ON A WONDERFUL spread. Dai Evans pushed four tables close so the friends could sit together. Blodwen brought tray after tray of sandwiches, tea, cakes, and ice cream, dismissing any offer of payment.

“Look, you, ’tis the least we can do for the folk who saved our village. Indeed to goodness, put that money away. Hoho, ’twas worth it just to see Obadiah Smithers’s face. In the name of heavens, though, ’ow did you find those deeds?”

Mr. Braithwaite scratched his wiry mop. “Deeds, you say, marm, well er, hmm, ’fraid I can’t, er, enlighten you, I was, er, er, asleep on Miz Winn’s, er, sofa, yes. You tell her, er, er.”

Amy put aside her ice cream and explained.

“It’s a long story, but we had a clue that led us to the old milestone on Eastpath. I never knew milestones were that big, there was only a small part showing above ground!”

Will confirmed her statement. “Aye, the one on Eastpath is a disused old millstone, a great, flat, round, granite wheel, with a hole through its middle. Well, me an’ Jon had to dig it out, y’see. We dug a fair deep pit around that stone, though we had t’ get out pretty quick, because it began to shift. We were no sooner out than the stone toppled. It blocked the hole completely! Good job young Ben had a bright idea.”

The Labrador passed a thought from beneath the table to his master. “Tut tut, you had a bright idea?”

The boy’s blue eyes twinkled as he slid a ham sandwich to his dog. “Sorry about that, pal, but it wasn’t your idea, either, as I recall. Didn’t you say Delia suggested that we use her to move the stone?”

The big dog huffed a bit as he dealt with the sandwich. “Aye, but I was the only one who knew what she was thinking. A very intelligent mare she is. Take my word!”

The dairyman farmer allowed Amy to continue with the tale.

“We passed a rope through the hole in the stone and threw it over a thick branch of the oak tree growing nearby. Will harnessed the rope to Delia and she hoisted the stone clear. As the stone came up, we saw something sticking up out of the hole. I thought it was an oak root at first. Mr. Mackay, tell them what it was!”

Brushing a crumb from his vest, the dapper lawyer allowed himself the briefest of smiles. “Ahem! It was the armpiece from a suit of armor. Mr. Braithwaite identified the object as being from about the mid-1300s. Who knows, it could probably have belonged to Caran De Winn. We took it back to Mrs. Winn’s house. The entire armpiece was sealed with tar on the outside and tallow within. When Jon Preston cut it open, there was the deed, perfectly preserved. A most timely and fortunate discovery, sir. The document states not only the title to ownership, but on the back, it also has a map, marking the boundaries of lands granted to Caran De Winn quite clearly.

“So, you see, my friends, my client is the owner of quite a considerable area, of which Chapelvale village is merely the center! Mark Milestone East, and an arrow pointing downward, that was all the clue we had to go on. But our united efforts brought about its successful conclusion. Remarkable!”

The magistrate took Mrs. Winn’s hand. “Remarkable indeed. Madam, may I be the first to congratulate you upon your elevation to the squirearchy. You are, through the help of your friends, a very fortunate lady!”

The old lady blushed, fidgeting with her ecru linen gloves. “Why, thank you, sir. My late husband, Captain Winn, always said that the price of true friends is above that of gold. I wish he had lived to see himself as Squire of Chapelvale. He loved our village dearly, even though a great deal of his life was spent away from it, at sea. When things get back to normal, I am going to do something he would have approved of. I will grant to all the people of Chapelvale that piece of land which their home stands upon, house, shop, business, or farm. I can do that now that I legally own all this land, can’t I?”

The magistrate rose to leave. “You can indeed, marm!”

Dai Evans came hurrying in with a tray of drinks, elderberry wine, beer, and lemonade, which he began serving to the party.

“Wait, sir, join us in a toast to our new squiress!”

Smiling, the magistrate raised his glass. “I’m not sure squiress is right, but whatever it is, I’m sure Mrs. Winn will perform her duties admirably, with all of you as her friends!”

Will Drummond raised his glass. “Aye, that’s the toast. Friends.”

As the company clinked glasses they chorused together. “To friends!”

Celebrations at Evans Tea Shoppe, and throughout the village, went on into the mid-noon. Now every villager was his or her own landlord, owning the actual ground their house or business stood upon. The square resounded to the noise of happy folk, who had occupied the marquee previously set up for those who had planned the destruction of Chapelvale. Amy Somers was watching Blodwen Evans coaxing her brother to take on yet another portion of ice cream, when she noticed that Ben and his dog had slipped away during the merry-making.

She found them sitting in the alley together, enjoying a respite away from the bustle and noise indoors. The dark-haired girl sat next to Ben, her back against the wall, noting how he and the dog were looking at each other.

“You two are talking together, I can tell.”

Ben shrugged. “We’re just exchanging a few thoughts, feeling happy for Miz Winn and the village. Old Ned looks happy, doesn’t he?”

Amy stroked beneath the black Labrador’s chin. “Yes, he looks very happy indeed. I’ll just sit here and be happy with you both.”

Mischief danced in Ben’s blue eyes, as he sighed peacefully. “All you need for real happiness is the sun on your face and a friend by your side.”

The girl smiled fondly at him. “That’s nice, but what about Ned?”

The strange boy smiled back at her. “Ned’s the friend I was talking about.”

She dived on him, pummeling away playfully. “Ooh, you rotter!”

Ben giggled helplessly. “Mercy please, I meant you, too!”

The dog threw a thought in. “Go on, m’girl, teach the cheeky young pup a lesson!”

47

ONE MONTH LATER.

SUMMER ROLLED ON TOWARD AUTUMN. One morning after breakfast, Ben and his dog accompanied Winnie into the village on her weekly shopping trip. They sauntered into the square together, Ned slightly ahead, carrying the woven cane basket in his jaws. Ben stared at the ground, scuffing the dusty cobbles. Winnie watched him with some concern.