Bartholomew nodded, a little impatient at the lengthy explanation. He had seen the ring Aelfrith was talking about. It always hung on a robust length of leather around Sir John's neck. Bartholomew had asked him about it once, and Sir John had given him the impression that it was a trinket of no inherent value, but of great personal significance. Bartholomew supposed, in the light of what Aelfrith had just told him, that Sir John had spoken the truth.
'On the night of his death Sir John visited Augustus, and may have hidden the seal in his room. I am sure Sir John was killed because someone wanted to steal the seal, but I am also confident that he was not wearing it when he died.'
'How can you be sure of that?'
'The manner of his death. He is said to have thrown himself into the mill race so that he would be either crushed or drowned by the water-wheel.'
Bartholomew swallowed hard and looked away.
Aelfrith continued.
'There were two odd things about Sir John's death.
The first is that when you, Swynford, and I dined with him on the night of his death, he did not seem like a man about to take his own life. Would you agree?'
Bartholomew assented. It was a fact that had played on his mind, increasing his sense of helplessness about Sir John's death. Had the Master seemed ill or depressed, Bartholomew could have offered his support and friendship.
'The second odd thing was the clothes he was wearing. Now,' Aelfrith held up his hand as Bartholomew began to protest, "I am not going to say anything that will harm Sir John's reputation further. He was wearing the habit of a Benedictine nun. Correct?'
Bartholomew refused to look at Aelfrith. It had been the most disturbing aspect of Sir John's death. It was bad enough to imagine him being in a state of mind where he could hurl himself under the water-wheel. But that his own clothes were nowhere to be found, and that he was clad in the gown of a nun, drew much speculation on Sir John's sanity and personal life.
"I do not think Sir John was in disguise as has been suggested,' said Aelfrith. "I believe his clothes were stolen so that they could be thoroughly searched for the seal. I think he was killed — perhaps by a knock on the head — and his clothes taken after he had died. The nun's habit was specifically chosen to bring Michaelhouse into disrepute.
Its Master wearing nun's clothes to commit suicide at the mill! The plan succeeded: the town people still nudge each other and grin when Michaelhouse is mentioned, and scholars in Oxford claim that there, the masters are men in men's clothing.'
Bartholomew winced, but said nothing. Aelfrith saw his discomfiture, and hurriedly changed the subject.
'But whoever killed Sir John did not find the seal, and came to look for it in Augustus's room, assuming that Sir John had hidden it there because it was the only place he had been between dining with us and leaving the College. I was knocked on the head, Paul stabbed, and the commoners drugged to allow time to make a thorough search. You interrupted that search, and were attacked.'
Bartholomew was about to dismiss Aelfrith's explanation as inadequate, when he recalled Augustus'swords on the afternoon of Wilson's installation. He had spoken of an evil in the College that would corrupt all, but there was some thing else, too. Just remember John Babington, hide it well.' Bartholomew's thoughts raced forward.
Perhaps Aelfrith was right, and Sir John had hidden the seal with Augustus, and Augustus had watched him.
So, did that mean that Augustus had been killed so that the discovery of the seal would remain a secret? Was he killed because he had refused to reveal where it was hidden? But Bartholomew had seen no marks on Augustus's body to support the possibility that he was forced to do anything.
'But this does not explain what happened to Augustus's body,' he said. He began to have hopes that the bizarre manner of Sir John's death might be explained, and his good reputation restored.
Aelfrith sighed. "I know. But one of the last messages Sir John received from Oxford said that our protagonists are in league with witches and warlocks,' he said.
"I do not think we will see our Brother Augustus again.'
Bartholomew disagreed. 'Bodies do not just disappear, Father,' he said. 'His will be found, especially if it is hidden away in this heat!'
Aelfrith pursed his lips in disgust. 'This is the part that disturbs me most of all,' he said. "I believe the disappearance of Augustus's body was the work of the Devil, and that the Devil has a servant in this College!'
Bartholomew was surprised that Aelfrith would so readily accept witchcraft as an answer. He had also been surprised with Brother Michael for the same reason. It was too convenient an answer.
'So who do you think attacked us and killed Paul and Montfitchet?' he asked, to move the discussion on. Bartholomew could believe that the Devil had a servant in the College easily enough — someone who was committing murder and stealing bodies — but the idea that the Devil was responsible he found too hard to accept. He sensed he would not agree with Aelfrith on this point, and that if he questioned it further they might end up in the orchard for hours discussing it as a point of theology.
'The Devil's servant,' replied Aelfrith in response to Bartholomew's questions. He turned to Bartholomew. "I have told you all this because I wish you to be on your guard — for your own life and for the security of your University.'
'Do the other fellows know all this?' asked Bartholomew.
'Master Wilson does. He thinks you are a spy because you have a degree from Oxford, because your practice takes you out of College a lot, and because he was suspicious of your relationship with Sir John. He warned Sir John about you many times. He does not like you, and now he is Master, he will undoubtedly try to see that your days as a Fellow here are numbered.'
That Wilson thought the worst of him, and might attempt to rid Michaelhouse of him, did not come as any great shock to Bartholomew. 'Who else knows?' he asked.
'Michael seems to know some of it, although he did not learn it from me. William and Alcote know. It was William who told me to warn you. Alcote is in Wilson's pocket, and believes you are a spy. They both think you were looking for the seal when you took so long with Augustus.'
'And what do you think, Father?'
'That you are innocent in all this, and that you should remain so. I also reason that you grieve too deeply for Sir John to have been involved in any way with his death, and that you have continued to be a good friend after most others have abandoned him.'
Bartholomew squinted up into the apple trees. He wished Sir John were with him now, to help him reason out all this subterfuge and plotting. 'What of the others?
Swynford and Giles Abigny?'
'Swynford is aware of the Oxford plot, but declines to become involved. His family have lands near Oxford, and he says it is in his interests to remain neutral. Sirjohn's contact has already reported that Swynford declined Oxford when they tried to recruit him. Abigny would not find the time between his love affairs for matters of such seriousness, and in any case, I could not trust his judgement nor his discretion. He has no connections with Oxford anyway, and would make them a poor spy.
He does not move in the right circles to be of interest to them, unless they are concerned with tavern gossip.'
Bartholomew smiled. The flighty Abigny was from a different world than the austere Franciscan friars, and they would never see eye to eye. But Aelfrith was right.
Abigny was appallingly indiscreet, and would never manage to remain sober long enough to do spying of any value. Aelfrith stood to leave.