“No, no. It just happened.”
“What will they do to him?”
“They’ll take him to Nottingham to face trial.”
“And they’ll find him guilty.”
“He has killed a man. He does not deny it.”
“But it was not murder.”
“It is the usual term for describing such an action.”
“But you don’t see? There was this girl… What will they do to him?”
“Hang him, I expect.”
“They must not.”
“My dear Jessica, this man is nothing to do with you. A wandering gypsy. Colourful, I admit. Handsome … not without charm. This time next year you’ll be wondering who he was.”
“I shall never forget that he will believe I betrayed him. He trusted me.”
“You foolish girl. You did no such thing. You just went there to warn him and we happened to be behind you.”
“But he will think …”
“Very soon he will be past thinking.”
“Oh, don’t talk like that, Father. I want you to save him.”
“I? What power should I have to save him?”
“When I was little I used to think you could do anything you wanted to. I thought you could make it rain if you decided to. I thought you could do just anything.”
“My dear innocent child, you know differently now.”
“I know you can’t interfere with the elements, but I know there is very little else you cannot do if you really want to.”
“I’m a lucky man to have a daughter who thinks so highly of me. She is very wise and almost correct. But at least you know I can’t interfere with the weather. Nor can I with the law.”
“I don’t agree.”
“Oh?”
“Laws are man-made.”
“So it is only the gods I can’t defy. You think I can cope with everything else?”
“Father, wonderful, dear, clever Father, you can do something.”
“Dearest daughter, no blandishments you can offer me would enable me to save a man who is a self-confessed murderer.”
“The circumstances make it no real murder. He had to save that girl. He is chivalrous. Do you remember when we faced the gypsies … you and I together and he was afraid of my getting hurt. I may have saved your life then.”
“You think the gypsies would have murdered me if you hadn’t been there to save me?”
“It could have happened.”
He was silent for a while.
“There are means of influencing a court,” I said.
“Bribery? Corruption? These things exist. Are you suggesting that I, a law-abiding Englishman, should commit such crimes?”
“You could do something to save him. If the judge knows that he killed this man defending a girl from rape … doesn’t that count?”
“H’m,” he said. “A gypsy … the nephew of a squire …”
“That’s just it,” I cried indignantly. “Suppose a nephew of a squire had killed a gypsy who was trying to rape his wife …”
“Ah, there you have a point.”
“If this man hangs I shall never be happy again.”
“You talk wildly. You’re only a child, though I must say you make me forget it at times. How old are you. Eleven?”
“Nearly twelve.”
“Heaven preserve us. What will you be at eighteen?”
“Please, Father …”
“Jessica, my dear?”
“Will you do something for me … the best thing in the world you could possibly do. Will you help me save this man?”
“There is little I can do.”
“There is something then?”
“We could find the girl. Perhaps bring her forward.”
“Yes, yes,” I said eagerly.
“I’ll go to Nottingham.”
I threw my arms round his neck. “I knew you could do it.”
“I don’t know what I can do. I am just being bullied into taking actions which I feel cannot be fruitful—and all because of my over-bearing daughter.”
“So you are going to Nottingham. Father, I am coming with you.”
“No.”
“Oh yes, please … please. I want to be there. Don’t you see, I must be there. He must know that I did not betray him. If he thought that, I could never be happy again … not in the whole of my life. So … I am coming with you to Nottingham.”
He held me away from him and looked into my face. I saw that sudden twitch of the jaw.
“I used to think,” he said, “that I was master in my own household. That’s changed since I was misguided enough to beget a daughter.”
I flung my arms round him and hugged him.
He just held me tightly to him. It was a great comfort to be loved so much.
The next day we set out for Nottingham. My father had told my mother everything and she wanted to accompany us. When I told her in detail what had happened she was almost as eager as I was to save Romany Jake.
We went by carriage and the journey took several days. It would be about a week before the trial took place, my father reckoned, and we needed a little time to think out a plan of action.
It was dusk and we must have been about seven or eight miles from Nottingham and were gambolling along at a fair pace when our coachman pulled up sharply.
“What is it?” called my father.
“Well, sir, there’s someone on the road. Looks in distress.”
“Pull up,” ordered my father.
My mother laid a hand on my father’s arm.
“It’s all right,” he said, taking a gun from its place under his seat.
“Much better to drive on,” said my mother.
“It might be someone in real distress.”
“It also might be a trick. You never know with these gentlemen of the road.”
I looked out and saw a man limping towards the carriage.
“I’m in trouble,” he said. “Robbed of my purse and my horse…”
My father got out of the carriage and studied the man. “Get in,” he said.
My mother and I sat closer together to make room.
When the man was seated, my father said, “Whip up the horses,” and we were off.
The man was very well dressed, breathless and bewildered, and it was impossible then to suspect him of a trick. He was genuinely overwrought, and for some time found it hard to speak.
“I was riding along,” he said at length, “when a fellow stepped out and asked me the way to Nottingham. I told him and as I was talking three of them came out of the bushes and surrounded me. They had guns and commanded me to dismount and to hand over my purse. I had no alternative. I gave them what they asked. They took my horse and left me. Thank you for stopping. I am most grateful. I tried to stop one other carriage but it drove straight on.”
“Suspecting mischief,” said my father. “These robbers are getting a pest. Tis my opinion that we law-abiding citizens don’t get enough protection.”
The man nodded agreement.
“Well, sir, where do you want to be taken?”
“My home is just outside Nottingham. If you could drop me in the town where I am well known, I can find someone to take me home, I should be greatly obliged.”
“We’ll take you to your home,” said my father. “Is it far?”
“About a mile outside the town.”
“It will be simple to take you there. Just direct us, will you?”
“You are very good. My family and I will never forget your kindness.”
“It is only what travellers owe to each other. There ought to be more supervision on the roads.”
Our companion was beginning to recover. He told us his name was Joseph Barrington and he had a business in the town of Nottingham. “Lace,” he said. “As you know, Nottingham is one of the headquarters for lace-making in the country.”
“And your home is outside the town?”
“Yes. One would not want to live too near the factory. We are within easy reach and it is pleasant to be in the country. May I ask what part of the world you come from?”