Date: Tue, 28 Feb 2012 17:04:49 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Tom Browning's Schooldays 30

			 Tom Browning's Schooldays

				    By

				   Joel

			      Chapter Thirty



I could not ask Cedric at the present moment as both of us needed our
breakfasts.  Both Jabez and Paolo were there and were serving my father,
Paolo by the hot tureens and Jabez dispensing tea from a silver pot.

     "Ah, so you are awake at last," my father said to us as Paolo handed
him a loaded plate of hot, steaming food.  "I expected the pair of you to
be up and about ready for another morning of exploration, but good morning
to you both."  We dutifully offered our greetings and took places opposite
him at the table.  "My morning is settled for me," he asserted after
testing a fork-full of steaming sausage. "I have to visit my bankers to see
if there is a pot of gold still at the end of the rainbow I saw after that
storm earlier this year."

     "Then you must have been dreaming, father," I replied, nodding happily
as Paolo set my plate of equally steaming sustenance before me.  "I have
been told that you have to follow the rainbow to where it touches the
ground.  Cousin Lancelot says you could never do it and showed us how the
rainbow appears by using a prism of glass.  So that pot of gold cannot be
found!"

     My father groaned.  "Boy, why destroy an old man's dreams?"  He shook
his head.  "Tell me where the bank keeps all it's gold so I can see if
there is any which is mine."

     I shook my head.  "Lancelot told us that the banks do not hold gold
but pieces of paper with names and amounts on them.  He said if a bank went
up in flames then the money would burn and become ash.  He said..."

     My father waved his hand.  "...Your cousin is too clever by half but
he is right.  I have land and horses but unless there are those to buy what
I have in excess then paper or gold does not pass."  He laughed.  "But
those clever fellows in the bank will know if I am worth a penny or two to
lend me what I will need to feed, clothe and house your dear brother while
some of those horses I am to sell grow another hand or so in height."

     Branscombe was listening intently.  It was his sister to be housed,
fed and clothed, too, and I did not know what one of Her Majesty's Majors
of Horse received in pay for his loyal service though he had his portions
from the wills of our grandfathers.  "My father has the same concern as
you, sir," he said, "He is always complaining that his bankers do not know
the costs of maintaining a good household or extending the building as he
wishes.  How does one learn these things?"

     My father nodded.  "I have a rule taught to me by my father.  Do not
borrow nor lend more than a good quarter's income.  But in these days who
knows what that might be?  Harvests have been bad.  The government demands
money.  The banks want more interest on money they have lent."

     "But horse prices remain good and you have a good stock," I said,
knowing this was something he had said only a couple of days ago in
conversation with Uncle Digby.

     "Young ears flap too much," he rebuked, but he grinned as he said it.

     Branscombe was still in a questioning mood.  "My father says a good
working man is worth his weight in gold.  Not in reality, of course, but
his efforts ought to bring him a good reward.  I have read that many
manufactories do not pay a good wage and until recently children were made
to work many hours for a mere pittance."

     My father was nodding vigorously.  "That is true.  I have heard many
terrible stories of how even young boys and girls were in mines or weaving
mills and worked long hours for very little.  I remember reading of young
boys of seven or eight who would fall asleep towards the end of their day's
work and have to be carried home even too tired to eat.  That is, if there
was food in the house as the parents had little or no work for themselves."
He held his fork up. "There was much commotion among the owners when some
ten years or so ago our Parliament passed an Act to prevent children under
the age of nine to work in the weaving mills."  The fork was waved. "But
even then they could work up to forty-two hours a week."  He shook his
head.  "Although my grooms and labourers work as required I would never
expect the hours as are worked in those industries.  We in the country do
not know of some of the privations which many in these large towns suffer."

     "But, father," I said, "We know of those in our own village who do
not, or will not work unless forced by hunger..."

     "...Or your Aunt Matty's tongue."  He did laugh then.  "I know what
you mean.  My father took his whip to more than one idler who was not
supporting his family through a good day's work.  We have had times when
crops have been bad but the farmers around us have always made sure that
men are not laid off unnecessarily.  I do not boast but I have endeavoured
to pay a wage even if much work is scarce as in a bad winter like two years
ago.  There is always work to be found for a man if he is willing.  He may
not be a trained carpenter but sawing logs or making new hay boxes are
necessary tasks which have to be done come what may.  A farm and stables
such as ours always has work to be done, repairing fences, digging ditches,
cutting timber, so hands need not be idle."

     Branscombe was nodding.  "My father has good gardeners and there is
always work to do in the glass-houses even in this wintry weather.  He uses
journeymen, bricklayers and carpenters in the building work and these seem
to take a pride in providing good work for the wages demanded.  I think
they agree for twelve hours a day as long as there is daylight with time
for their victuals.  I do not know the payment they receive but I know my
father does not quibble only grumbling that everything costs more and more
as time goes by."

     "Men can look after themselves," my father said, "But I have read in
the news-sheets the conditions in those mills and how the youngsters are
easily injured.  I have also read there is agitation in Parliament for more
restrictions on their employment."  He looked at me.  "Take heed, young
man, if my pot of gold is not there you could be sent to work in a coal-
mine for nine shillings a week."  He laughed.  "And you can have Jabez to
shovel the coal for you to haul to the surface for another ten shillings."

     I had forgotten Jabez and Paolo were listening intently as well as
replenishing our plates and cups.

     "Sir," Jabez interjected, bowing his head, "You did set me to work
with a shovel when I displeased you one time.  I hope I do not displease
you now. May I refill your cup?"

     My father's chest heaved.  "Was that the time you frightened those
poor kitchen- maids by flapping around in your mother's nightdress and they
thought you were a ghost, or was it when you put that mouse in Mrs Gray's
beaker before she filled it?"

     Jabez's face was passive.  "No, sir, I was not aware you knew of those
occasions.  It was when I put Mr Brewer's riding-coat on the scarecrow and
he was looking for it when you needed a mount."

     "If I remember rightly you had to clear the Hall stable as a little
task, eh?"

     "My mother complained of the smell I took home and I felt her hand on
my bare backside when I had to bath.  And I was set to that task at the age
of eight!"

     My father guffawed.  "That Factory Act does not apply to you,
scoundrel!  And I will have more tea!"

     I did not know of that punishment he had endured plus the smacked
arse.  Mr Brewer was Bobby's father and had a small-holding now, though he
had been employed as a groom for many years.  He was a rather fussy little
man and I could imagine him being the butt of one of Jabez's pranks.  I
knew of the mouse and the time he filled Mrs Gray's lunch-time tankard with
cold tea rather than the good ale she expected.  Both times he got three
cuts across his buttocks from Mr Clements.  However it never wiped the
smile off his face nor diminished the fondness in which others held him.

     I think Branscombe was wondering what type of family his sister was
marrying into.  I had the feeling he was comparing my father and his
drollness with what I had gathered was his rather strict and solemn parent.
I imagined my father would just laugh if I appeared with a ring through my
cods and would probably ask if Robin tied a thread to it to keep me in
order like one of old Biddle's bulls. Cedric's father had not been told of
his adornment and what his mother might say or do was beyond my
understanding as I knew no haughty ladies and their manners.  I think my
mother might just exclaim 'Oh, Tom!' and ask if I had made headway with
another chapter of the latest book she had passed to me.

     My father finished his breakfast before us and said he must make
himself ready to visit his bankers and bid us good day.  As we completed
our own repast Cedric and I had just a little discussion on what we might
do.  With Cedric's prompting, and my acquiescence, we decided to ask if we
might visit the Tower of London, instead of some optician's shop, as long
as we promised to be back by midday.  Uncle Digby merely laughed and waved
his hand when I asked if we might be allowed the chaise again.  "As long as
you do not attempt to steal the crown jewels like Colonel Blood it is
yours.  But do not dally too long as the warders there like to tell all the
gruesome tales and expect good recompense."

     Mr Topping said he would arrange our transport so we went back to my
bedroom and used the jakes which Branscombe said was most comfortable and
he was going to tell his father not to extend further until he had
information.  I said he had better borrow Robin's brother who would, no
doubt, make the drawings for all the apparatus.  I think Branscombe was
rather amazed when I said young Philip was not yet thirteen.  As Jabez was
with us making sure we were tidy he drew out a letter which Philip had
written for his mother to send to him before Christmas.

     "Excuse me, sir, but this will show his talent," Jabez said and folded
back the page to show a drawing of a snowy scene over which our Careby
church tower was soaring high.  It was well-drawn and the lines of the
tower as it rose were penciled straight and true.

     Cedric whistled.  "That is quite amazing.  My mother has had many
lessons and is good but I swear this outdoes her efforts."

     I was pleased to hear another opinion.  "I think there are plans for
Philip," I said, "He does not flaunt his ability and I hope he will be
given opportunities."

     "Are there plans for him to attend our school?" he asked.

     "I do not think so," I said, "He has enough Latin and some Greek but I
suspect he will be a pupil to an artist or something like that."

     Jabez was smiling as Cedric handed back the letter.  "Keep that
safely," he instructed him, "I think he will have a name in the future."

     That was a judgement I hoped would be true.

     Jabez excused himself as we went downstairs saying he must report to
my Uncle.  The chaise was ready and waiting as we went toward the stable.
Gregson was our driver and a very happy-looking Natty was beside him.  I
went over and saw that Natty was sporting a new neckerchief under his cape.
I would hear about that later, no doubt.  Gregson was looking rather
solemn.  I asked him about Peters and his cough.  He said he thought my
potion had cured that but he then bent down and whispered that there was a
contagion about.  He said the funeral procession I had seen, when out with
Rowley, was of a mother and her seven-year-old son.  They had succumbed
quickly to some fever which the doctors said was like cholera.  He had
heard of two other families close by that family where members were ill in
bed.  So we would not be going anywhere near those streets, he asserted,
louder and emphatically.  I agreed but didn't tell Cedric any of this
before we set off.  We got to Piccadilly very quickly as Gregson drove the
horses at quite a lick.  In fact, we managed to get to Long Acre and Drury
Lane with little difficulty but were slowed in the Strand.  We negotiated
Fleet Street and Ludgate Hill much better.  As we skirted St Paul's and
drove towards Cheapside I pointed out Paternoster Row where my sister
lived.  It was here I ventured to ask about his vehemence when that
cab-driver almost caused a mishap as there was a cab with a wheel off and a
horse being calmed at the roadside as we passed.

     He laughed and asked had I never heard that sailors swear all the
time?  I shook my head.  He said Jake and two of the other footmen vied
with each other over the number of different words or phrases they knew.
He had listened in to them many times from various hiding-places as a
youngster.  He had confessed to Jake what he had heard as he had been
discovered skulking behind a pantry door.  He brazened it out by repeating
a few expressions which caused some alarm and said he wanted to know what
all those strange words meant.  Jake had said he would explain when he was
a bit older and he should keep his mouth shut for now or he might find he
was marooned on a desert isle with cannibals about.  Cedric laughed again
as he said he was a rather trusting young lad and it was not until he was
home from school when he was fifteen that Jake had told him most of the
meanings as Jake had cut himself with a razor when trimming his beard and
had produced a fearsome volley of oaths.

     I said I had also remembered some of the things he had said and I
wanted to know what they meant.  I think he was so pleased at being taken
on excursions he immediately said I should ask.  Before we arrived at the
Tower I had learned that a 'pushing school' was a sailor's term for a
'brothel'.  I knew that word as there was a scandal in the village when a
girl had run away from her position at the Squire's house and had been
found in a 'house of ill-repute' in Grantham and had been brought home in
great distress.  I remembered that as I had skulked as well!  I had
overheard two grooms as they traded that information with each other!

     I was all agog when Cedric said that 'socket money' was what one of
those girls would be paid for her services.  Oh, so that was why Megson was
getting agitated when payment for showing and fingering was being
discussed.  But I then heard it was more than that.  It was the payment for
using the girl for pleasure, which was simply fucking as Branscombe
explained, using that word.  I had also heard that talked about and, of
course, had seen plenty of animals being serviced, male on female.
Branscombe went on to say there were many women who plied their trade in
most towns, and especially here in London, for men who wanted such
gratification.  Branscombe laughed and said I must be careful if I was
tempted as if I caught a 'burner' there was no cure for that disease and my
prick was most likely to fall off.

     I didn't ask more though he had used words like 'fucking' or 'prick'
quite openly and was obviously enjoying telling me such things.  However, I
had seen a drawing of a diseased pizzle in one of Lancelot's books which he
usually kept locked away in his room but had forgotten.  I had looked into
it as the title had the word Venus in it without realising it was a
treatise about diseases centred on that part of the body I had at the time
discovered gave me the greatest of pleasure.  That picture almost gave me
nightmares and I did not touch my newly growing prick for at least four
days until wanton feelings triumphed over caution.  I had peered at it each
time after that to see if there was any sign of the sores and holes
depicted.  Luckily, Lancelot had left the book on the shelf another day and
I had opportunity for a further look and so discovered I would be unlikely
to have such a calamity befall me without recourse to a source of such a
disease.  I had not dared even to acquaint Robin with my findings, hoping
he would not succumb to temptation.

     By this time we had rattled over the cobbles leading to a gated
entrance at the side of the Tower.  Gregson said we should have to pay for
entry and he would be waiting across the road on our return.  I looked at
Natty on the box and beckoned him down.

     "I haven't heard yet of your visit to the Museum and I think you will
have more to tell your mother if you say you have been inside the Tower
where two of King Henry's wives lost their heads."

     The lad looked at me almost goggle-eyed.  "Oh, Master Tom, an' be
their heads still there?  I would be afeared to look."

     Branscombe clapped him on the back.  "Do not worry, lad, I hear they
only walk about at night with their heads tucked underneath their arms."

     Poor Natty!  He looked quite frightened.  "If there are any ghosts
that Warder will run them through with the pike he's carrying," I said to
him with a smile to ease his alarm.

     He breathed out.  "Oh, Master Tom, I am a foolish boy.  I know there
b'aint no ghosts but those grooms do tell some horrid tales."

     "Don't worry, my lad," Branscombe said, "But I expect those Warders
will tell us a gory story or two."

     Gregson was grinning from his position on the box.  I guessed he had
experienced a visit here before.  He bent down and pointed at the gatehouse
with his whip.  "I advise you to ask if Warder Griggs is about.  A sixpence
extra to him and you will see many things others do not."

     Branscombe was ready to advance on the fortress.  Two Warders in their
antique uniform stood guard.  Branscombe marched up to the older one.  "I
am informed Warder Griggs is a good guide.  Is he available, Sergeant?" he
asked with quite an air of authority.  I noted the stripes on the Warder's
arm and using the man's rank did the trick.

     "Sir, I am he," he said, bringing his pike upright to his side and
coming to attention, "You wish to gain admittance?"

     The question was said in such a way that extra monies would pass with
success.  Cedric withdrew his long purse and counted out four shillings.

     "I trust this will be sufficient, Sergeant," he said as he handed it
over.  As the Sergeant made an entry in a book Cedric whispered to me. "A
sixpence to his companion, I think."

     Luckily I had such a coin loose in my pocket.  It was discreetly
handed over and pocketed.  Natty was watching these transactions with a
bemused look on his face.  "Do I...?"  he began but I tapped his arm and
shook my head.

     The Sergeant nodded at his companion, who remained at his post, and
did a smart about turn.  We followed as he marched, rather stiffly, through
the imposing arch.  We spent a good hour and a half being shown the
headsman's block, axes, pikes, armour and some dreadful table which the
Warder said was not shown to many.  I guessed it was for torture and was
glad when we left that room.  The Chapel was plainly furnished and the
Sergeant said this was where those to be executed would be exhorted to
confess.  Often, though, he said with a shake of his head, they went
straight from their cell to the block.  A large key was produced and we
peered down a flight of well-worn stone steps.  "If you went down there you
never came back," he said, "That is if you were a prisoner.  The tide comes
in and those cells get very wet..."  He didn't need to elaborate.  We saw
the ravens and were told the legend that if they left the Tower then
England would be no more.  They cawed as the Sergeant approached them and
looked too well-fed to fly away.  We were told their wings had been
clipped.

     There were more Warders guarding the treasury where the Queen's jewels
were kept.  As we approached the heavy door Sergeant Griggs said they were
always wary of visitors.  "You haven't a pistol secreted in your britches,
eh, young man?" he said holding his pike towards Natty whose mouth opened
in a silent scream, "Colonel Blood was the last one to thieve but merry
King Charles did pardon him."  He laughed.  "That always scares the young
ones!"  We could not begin to gauge the worth of such things as crowns,
coronets, sceptres and so on encrusted with many coloured and bright gems
which were there on view.  We just gazed in wonderment.

     After seeing the Jewel House he took us to a room by the side of the
Warders' Mess and we had a tankard each of good ale each and Natty looked a
little calmer.  We were regaled with more tales about how prisoners were
brought by boat to Traitor's Gate and disappeared inside to be executed or
placed in cells sometimes for years on end.  "You've heard of Sir Walter
Raleigh?" he asked at one point, we all nodded, "He was here for four years
and was to be executed but was pardoned.  But he did lose his head at
Whitehall in the end.  Gruesome days they were." I think we were convinced
of that.

     Our visit came to an end after the Sergeant had told us he had spent
over twenty years in the Infantry and asked Natty if he wanted to be a
soldier. I'm afraid we laughed rather when he said his mother wouldn't
allow that.  We thanked the Sergeant most gratefully for his time and I
think another coin passed from Branscombe to him.  As we walked from the
gatehouse to the waiting chaise Natty very politely thanked Branscombe for
allowing him to be with us on that visit.  As he said his thanks he shook
his head.  "My mother'll never believe all the wonders I've seen.  'Tis a
wonderful place this London but 'tis not the place for the likes of me."

     "You love the country, eh?" Branscombe asked, "I do too, but I must go
to sea for my livelihood.  That's in my blood and I must follow my father
and grandfather into what I know will be my life.  You will find your life
in the country and I hope it will be a happy life.  My father says great
changes will come and we must be ready for them."

     I had heard that from my father, too, and had come to the same
conclusion listening to things discussed in Mr Ridley's extra classes.
Canals and horse-drawn carts carried our goods now.  Would railways, which
were said to be faster, haul goods as well?  People were moving from the
villages to the larger towns where goods were made and new manufactories
were set up.  Would men and women leave our village to try their luck
elsewhere like young Larkin the ploughman's son?  Though he might have had
a particular reason if Bessie's child was his.  I had heard of the rioting
in Manchester and the trouble when workers wanted to form unions to protect
their livelihoods.  Was the social order to change?  I had learned so much
more recently about our class system which seemed so rigid, but there were
friendships which crossed barriers.  I still had much to understand.  As
Uncle Digby had said 'Watch and learn'.
     Gregson was waiting rather impatiently with the chaise and said he
hoped the streets were not too busy so he would take back ways as it was
gone eleven o'clock.  We fairly galloped along some of the roads and sped
across Regent Street to get into the smaller roads to Charles Street.  We
could do no more that wave goodbye to our valiant driver and a rather dazed
Natty as Branscombe and I raced into the house.  The hall clock stood at
eleven fifty- eight.  Two minutes to spare.

     Both Mehmet and Karem were waiting in my bedroom.  They were wearing
silken robes like the one found for my brother.  We hurriedly used the
jakes, Branscombe hopping up and down but allowing me first piss, and as I
shed my clothing so Karem laid out soft towels on my bed.  Mehmet was doing
the same to the other side of the wide bed ready for Branscombe.  He
uncorked a small flask which he brought to me and held under my nose.
"This is oil of Neroli," he explained, "It is from Italy and is distilled
from orange flowers so I am told.  It is highly prized but your uncle said
you should experience it.  We must not use too much and will use an oil
with no scent for most of the time."

     As Branscombe came from the jakes and began to undress so Mehmet and
Karem removed their robes.  I had seen Mehmet before in his tight yellow
drawers looking so brawny and sturdy but here was his brother, slimmer but
still quite muscled, clad in equally tight but red drawers.  I saw
Branscombe look from one to the other which slowed down his own
disrobement.  Karem guided me to the bed and I lay on the towel as before,
face down.

     I felt the cool oil drip on my shoulders then Karem began the massage.
I relaxed and listened as Mehmet instructed Cedric to remove all his
clothing so he would not get any oil on even his undergarment.  Oh, I
thought, if he rolls over and I peep I may see his adornment again!

     I think that Karem was the equal of his older brother and I quickly
fell under the spell of his sensuous stroking and probing.  As with the
time under Mehmet's hands I could not help but become erect so when
commanded to turn over my young flagstaff was ready to carry Her Majesty's
standard.  I did not care.  I was almost fifteen and I knew I had still to
grow more.  I was not ashamed of my pizzle and it's present length.  It had
been assessed by the expert eye of Jabez Bottom who had attested it was of
good dimensions.  I did look at Karem as he leaned over me.  I could see
his pizzle outlined in the tightness of his drawers with the bulge of his
cods beneath.  It was not difficult to make out the shape of his peg.
There was a plumpness of length and a definite acorn at it's end which
looked the same as mine when I withdrew my skin completely.  An art which I
had only accomplished recently as my retaining skin had loosened.  So being
circumcised meant that acorn was always on show.

      As I pondered on this, with eyes half closed, my chest and stomach
were being kneaded carefully and I heard Mehmet quietly ask Cedric to turn
over.  I deliberately forbore from turning my head.  I heard a whisper and
two giggles.  I opened my eyes then as Karem was slowing in his actions.
Branscombe was on his back and what stretched back over his belly was a
most sizeable weapon bent somewhat like a sickle.  He was approaching
seventeen so had at least two years on me and showed he was well-equipped
as dear Jabez was wont to say.

     My eyes though were cast down a little and, as he lay on my right-hand
side, I had a good view of his weighty cods.  Yes, the ring was there and
as Mehmet massaged across his thigh so he carefully re-positioned the sack
so he could reach downwards at the top of his leg.  I saw Branscombe wince
a little.  It was just then that Karem moved down to minister to my own
thighs and I imagined he was copying his brother's actions.  Yes, that area
where my thigh met the fork of my legs was most sensitive and I tightened
my stomach muscles as his fingers pressed into that delicate area.  All too
soon the pair announced they were done and we should stand to be wiped free
of oil.  We stood facing each other with smiles on our faces and as the
towels were used on our backs our rampant pricks were well on show.  Cedric
pursed his lips slightly but said nothing.  I knew I had been judged. Was I
found wanting?

     As Branscombe had so handsomely paid for our entry and guide to the
Tower I maintained I would recompense the lads for their much-appreciated
efforts.  Both smiled and bowed their heads as I passed over a silver
half-crown each.  Not a golden half-guinea!  Branscombe thanked them and
wandered back into the jakes his pride erect before him. The pair had
corked their flasks, folded their towels, replaced their robes and were
gone and I was almost dressed before he emerged.

     I noted his prick was no longer erect and mine had softened once I was
off the bed.  "I could do with a massage like that every day if it has that
effect," he said, "Had to keep that unruly beast quiet in there."  He
swivelled his hips and the 'beast' swung to and fro. So Branscombe was
confessing to acting as I did so many times at home, without recourse to
the luxury of a jakes but using a piece of cloth or a soiled stocking to
mop up spent juices.

     He stood before my long glass and flexed his arm muscles and then
rolled his shoulders.  "I do not see all of me at once at home.  My mother
has a long glass but I could hardly wander into her boudoir and show myself
like this.  Those two boys outdo me though in muscles.  I think I will have
to play a little more and do more running as I have eaten so well and I do
not wish to become like those gluttonous simpletons in Pratt's."

     "Nor do I," I said, admiring the contours of his body, almost a
replica of Curly, "I do not know what sport is arranged for this coming
term.  I am not fond of football but hope that George Lascelles will be
persuaded to run more on our return rather than muddying himself on the
field.  That I prefer."

     Branscombe looked at me with a smile.  "George or running?"

     "I prefer running," I said stoutly, "But my real preference is Robin."

     I wondered if I had said the right thing.  Cedric just smiled a
broader smile.  "I have a preference, too, but he will not be with me at
Ashbourne.  I told you of my uncle's son.  We have pledged our
companionship and must try for a future together.  It will be difficult but
he wishes to be a Naval Instructor and my father has promised to find him a
place to study.  He is a better scholar than I and, like you with your
uncle, has been taught by our rector.  He needs a College place but neither
Oxford nor Cambridge appeals.  He has a mechanical turn of mind and has set
up a number of ingenious devices to lighten the load on our grooms and
labourers.  There is a contraption where a mule turns in a circle and a
weight lifts and falls to crush turnips and beet for the cattle and another
which spins and provides a cooling draught in the dairy so the milk does
not turn sour so readily in warm weather."

     I immediately thought of the demonstration I had seen at the College
in Gower Street.  As Branscombe dressed I told him of that and how Aubrey
Bayes' father was an eminent man there.

     "I must tell my father as that would be a fine place for Alfred to
attend.  But I would ask you not to say anything at Ashbourne."  He nodded.
"And I will see that you and Robin can be together, too."

     I was smiling then.  But, he had expressed an interest, I though, in
Miss de Vere.  I was bold enough to ask.

     He laughed.  "My dear boy," he said, "You will find you can be friends
with the fair sex but that does not mean one need succumb to being with
them for ever.  I think my mind is made up already as I have told you."

     I could see that was true.  Millicent Jefferson could be a friend but
not necessarily a companion for life.  More to ponder on.

     It was time for luncheon and then I had to be changed ready for my
participation in the At Home this afternoon.  With that happening
Branscombe and I were alone in the breakfast room as my father was lunching
with my Uncle Digby in his study.  As usual we were served by the
ever-attentive Paolo.  He said that Cedric would be given a small hamper to
keep him company on the stage to Canterbury as he would have to leave as
soon as the At Home was over.  He finished eating before me as he said he
would have to check all his things had been packed in his bags. I had
several more mouthfuls to consume and rushed upstairs still chewing to get
changed into my Sunday best.

     As I entered my room Karem came along now dressed in his usual grey
livery and, unfortunately, not in those tight red drawers for me to ogle.
"Please, Master Tom, your uncle says as Jabez is not available yet I should
assist."  So Jabez was absent again.  Uncle must know where he was.  An
errand?  Anyway, I had to hurry to change and look smart and tidy.  I
thanked Karem again and complimented him on his appearance for the massage,
though I didn't dwell on the fact I was interested in exploring what was
contained in his scanty apparel.  He said he was exercising with Mehmet but
he didn't wish to become as massive as he was.  I didn't say I could see
why his patrons would want to stroke his leg!

     It wasn't until I had gone down again and reached the drawing room
door that a rather breathless Jabez appeared, again in a plain suit but
this time of a good cut.

     "I must apologise again, Tom," he said, "I must change quickly as I am
to be on duty here this afternoon and I will be on the coach this evening
for the SoirＦ."

     Before I could ask any questions he was away.  There was no one yet in
the big room.  I took my flute from it's case and fitted it together. I
blew a few notes and thought it sounded true.  I put it on a shelf of a
tall dresser where I could retrieve it easily.  The book of sonatas was on
top of the pianoforte so I opened it to the page and placed it ready on the
music desk as I would be first.  Rosamund had said she would be my
page-turner.  I tried a part scale, E, F, G, A, and there was no jangling
so the pianoforte had been tuned and corrected.  I looked at the printed
notes and remembered the two bars where I had to be careful.  I didn't play
them but imagined my fingers on the keys.  I felt confident and strangely
calm.  I had played to my mother's friends at home and was used to playing
my flute but these were people who went to many recitals and here was I, a
mere boy, starting the afternoon's performance.  Just as I was looking at
the next page Rosamund came into the room.

     "I thought you would be here," she said, "Are you prepared?"

     "I think so," I said and returned her smile.

     "We'll wait until everyone is here," she said, "Otherwise there will
be so much talk and we shall get distracted.  There is a small room here to
where I often escape when I want peace.  We'll wait there.  My mother will
look after Signor Bruschi and the lady singer and their accompanist.
You'll like him he's a very good player.  I haven't heard Madame Walters
before but she is highly recommended."

     She led me along the hallway to a closed door.  Opened, this revealed
a cosy room with a lit fire and two armchairs and a scattering of books on
the table.  Father calls this 'Stanza di Rosamund' ever since I said it was
mine when we first moved here."  She laughed.  "You are honoured, Tom,
there are few who have crossed the threshold."

     I did not dare ask if Marmaduke had.  I didn't think he was one of the
favoured ones.  We chatted about my visits.  She said the Harrison boys
were a delight and young John made her laugh.  She hadn't been to the
College in Gower Street but had visited the British Museum which she said
had such an array of good things.  When I came to London next she would
like to accompany me there as there were always new exhibits.  Her
favourite place to visit was the National Gallery where many pictures were
hung.  She hadn't visited the Tower so I forbore from telling her how gory
it all sounded.  There was a tap on the door.  It was Jabez now all smart
in his green and gold livery.  We were led along to the drawing room where
it looked as if all the seats were occupied.  "To the piano," she said in a
whisper.

     I didn't have time to look around and went to stand by the keyboard as
a ripple of applause sounded.  I sat and played that first movement as if
in a dream.  To my ears it went better than I had ever played before.  As
the last chord vanished into silence there was more than a ripple of
applause.  I stood and bowed three times then, as the clapping diminished,
I followed Rosamund and walked to an empty chair on which a programme was
placed.  Here was I, in print, announced as 'Thomas Browning, Esq.
Pianoforte' and then the title of the piece I had just played.  Later I saw
I was there twice more as 'Flautist'.  A little fame perhaps but I saw that
the Signor was noted as 'Cellist with the Paris Conservatoire' and Madame
Walters as 'Soprano' with a list of appearances in Berlin, Rome and Madrid
amongst others.

     The whole afternoon was a revelation.  I was used to hearing the
rather scratchy tones at times of our village band and it's stringed
instruments.  Signor Bruschi played two full Sonatas by Italian composers
and his sound was best described as velvet, or warm chocolate.  I had no
other words with which to compare his artistry: there was no roughness
here. The accompanist was a perfect match for him and I noted the cellist
smiled across at him several times as they intertwined their
melodies. Madame Walters sang a selection of German and French songs in her
two contributions and I was enthralled by the effortless way she reached
those high notes.  My 'Air from Xerxes' went well and I think Rosamund and
I were well- received.  At the end there were many smiles and nods as I
played two merry country dances with that final Sailor's Hornpipe to finish
the afternoon.  I saw Branscombe applauding vigorously at the end as he had
clapped along with others during that spirited piece.

     I was congratulated by numerous people and I saw my father sitting
next to my mother with a most satisfied look on his face.  Whether it was
me, or finding his pot of gold, I didn't know. Even the Signor complimented
me by saying I had a good touch.  Odd, he didn't have any foreign accent
but sounded just like Mr de Vere with his North Country way of speaking.

     The lads served afternoon tea from a buffet set up at the back of the
room.  Small tables had been brought in very quickly and the rattle of
teacups and plates soon took over from the music.  Branscombe came to say
farewell and said with a real grimace that he would see me at Ashbourne.
He said that look wasn't for me but our lessons began on the Thursday a
fortnight away and that was not to his liking.  I commiserated with him and
observed we both had journeys to make to our homes first before setting off
again. We each would be travelling several days.  He said how much he had
enjoyed our visits and was sorry I hadn't been to my optician's shop but it
was something for my next journey to London. A few minutes later Mr Purrett
came and informed him that the chaise was loaded with his bags and ready to
go to the Bull and Mouth for him to catch his stage.  As we parted at the
back door of the house he gave me a real hug of friendship and said once
more how much he had enjoyed himself.  "And I saw you staring at
Karem's..." He didn't finish but gave me a wink as Gregson led him down to
the waiting conveyance.

     When I went back into the house most people were ready to go and
carriages were lining up at the front entrance leading to Charles Street.
I listened as several ladies saying goodbyes to my aunt were announcing
they must depart but would be at Lady Bridges' SoirＦ later.  I also heard
people remarking on the fine Ball on New Year's Day and especially the
decorations.  As young Antonio was near me handing round a platter of small
cakes at that time I grinned at him and went 'Miaow'.  The imp screwed up
his nose then smiled and put the plate up for me to choose.  "No mice
around I hope," I said and he giggled and moved on to a rather portly lady
who took two cakes without even looking at him.

     It must have been near five o'clock before the last of the visitors
went.  We had had an afternoon of good music and there was still more to
come.  My mother told me to be down sharp on six o'clock and as long as I
did not spill food on my new tails I should come to dinner ready dressed to
leave for Lady Bridges' house.  My aunt was listening and didn't help
matters as she said she had a baby's bib somewhere which had been left
behind when the twins were younger.  She did make amends by saying that
people were quite genuine in their praise for my playing.

     Jabez was a great help me in getting my essentials packed for my
journey home in the morning.  He said he would supervise the parcelling of
all my books and other clothes as my mother would not be leaving until
Saturday morning in our coach.  I said he was a good and faithful servant,
but he had better help me get dressed ready for dinner and the SoirＦ or I
might have to employ Natty instead.  He didn't retaliate as I expected but
asked if I had thought of taking Natty to my school. With Robin also now as
a scholar, there would be two horses to manage and Natty was a willing and
able lad most able to be a good groom.  I thought that would be a good idea
and said I would discuss it with my father and thanked him for the
suggestion and said it showed he wasn't just a simple serf.

     Luckily I wasn't yet dressed in my finery as I was bundled over the
bed and tickled.  I managed to say he hadn't got the touch of either Mehmet
or Karem.  His response was to grasp my poor now-erect pizzle and say the
only touch I was used to was my own hand on that object.  I was laughing
too much to enjoy more of his touch but he then promised he would be able
to stay with me overnight as both Mehmet and Karem were going to their home
to be ready for a busy few days at the Baths.  "Many men like to visit the
Baths on a Friday or Saturday and then again on Mondays.  Ready for a
weekend of carousing and then to be pummelled to put them right again."  He
grinned.  "And I think your friend enjoyed himself.  Mehmet told me about
that ring but I wasn't to say anything but you knew."  He wrinkled his
nose.  "I don't think I would volunteer for such a thing tho' Mehmet says
there is much talk about even more painful things."

     I said the last thing I wanted was a ring through my prick.  Jabez was
unkind and said they probably didn't make rings that small.  I retaliated
and said I would get Isaac and Jacob to hold him down while they inserted a
ring such as they made for the cooper's man to fit round barrels.  He just
sneered and said at least he had something to show it off with, not a
measly little carrot.  As by that time I was more or less dressed in my
finery I said he would be dealt with later!

     As he brushed my hair when I was fully arrayed in white tie and tails
he told me that he would tell me something of his present errands when we
were together later.  He said he trusted me not to say he had divulged
anything as he was changing his identity for a few days.  He whetted my
appetite but that was all he could tell me as we heard the church bell
somewhere chime six.

     Downstairs there was my brother Terence and another gentleman, both in
white tie and tails.  Terence said he was a brother officer and he was
introduced as Captain Musgrove.  They would be escorting my aunt and
Rosamund.  Ah ha, no Marmaduke!  Of course, Terence wanted to know how his
little brother had twiddled his fingers this afternoon.  I gave him a
brotherly sneer but he laughed and said our mother had already praised her
little darling.  That merited another sneer.  Captain Musgrove said his
young brother was always doing the same to him so it must be something
peculiar to boys. Since he winked at me, as he said it, he was spared.  I
forgave Terence, too, because he was my favourite brother.  That is, most
of the time.

     At dinner I managed not to spoil my suit as a good-sized napkin was
placed over my chest by dear Jabez who managed a surreptitious tweak of my
ear.  Aunt Fanny informed us there would be a long supper interval at Lady
Bridges so we would have only two main courses tonight.  Wondering if the
supper would be satisfying I did manage two good helpings of a very
delicious dessert, as well as a reasonable slice of fine cheese.

     Aunt Fanny was in charge as Uncle Digby said he would be having a good
game of chess with Mr Pembridge while our ears were beguiled by more sweet
music Again there would be three carriages.  My Aunt and Rosamund with
their two escorts in the big coach drawn by four of the greys.  Our coach
would have my mother, my father and me, followed by the closed chaise with
the two ladies' maids escorted by Mr Pembridge and Mr Purrett.

     I felt quite excited as we traversed the dark streets shrouded in the
usual murky fog with shadows caused by the gas lamps dotted every few
yards.  There was quite a throng of carriages converging on Belgrave Square
as we came down the curved road after we left Hyde Park Corner.  At last it
was our turn to alight and I was bemused as link-boys bearing flaming
torches led each group to the front steps of the huge mansion.

     After disposing of our hats, cloaks and gloves we were led then by
servants bearing sconces of candles into what seemed a vast hall where some
hundred or so padded chairs were set up in serried ranks.  On a raised dais
were four chairs with music stands ready for the players.  I noted we were
ushered to the third row in the middle which I took to be rather important
and were joined there by my Uncle Billy and Torquil in their evening suits.

     There was much nodding as we newcomers joined the rows of seats
already occupied.  Uncle Billy and my Aunt Fanny were greeted by many so
they were well known.  I felt quite grand sitting between my mother and
Rosamund and kept trying not to make it obvious I was looking to see those
still entering.  That was the only problem being in that third row.  I did
spend a time looking at the splendidly printed programme with the ornate
coat of arms on the cover.  Inside were descriptions of the three sonatas
to be played.  The first was to be by Mr Haydn, a quartet in C which was
described as 'The Bird' which sounded rather light-hearted.  The next was
by Franz Schubert and was noted as being in D minor with the strange title
'Death and the Maiden'.  That didn't sound very jolly but it was explained
it was based on a song.  I would have to wait and see.  The interval was
then indicated and there would be refreshments served in the salon.  An
hour to eat!  I expected there would be a lot of chat as well.  There was
one item after the interval: a sonata in F major by Ludwig van Beethoven.
The programme said it was the first of three composed in 1806 for a Russian
nobleman.  I was looking forward to that as my Aunt Matty at Careby was
always praising Beethoven's music and played his sonatas whenever she could
find time.  I had tried one called 'The Waldstein' when she was teaching me
and said I should persevere with it as it was one of his best.  I agreed it
was most tuneful, but it was difficult.

     As the time to begin approached so an elegant procession of ladies and
gentlemen entered. They sat in the front row as everyone else stood.
Rosamund whispered that they must be rather grand as even Lady Bridges was
being uncommonly deferential.  After we were all seated again the four
musicians walked from a doorway behind the dais and stood and bowed while
everyone applauded.  There was absolute silence when they began to play and
I watched them intently as the opening movement of the Haydn sonata
progressed.  Again, I was experiencing music at its best, skilfully played
and I felt transported to a different world as it were.  All too soon it
seemed to end and I joined enthusiastically in the applause.  The 'Death
and the Maiden' wasn't so sad and sorrowful as the title implied but was
full of melody even though mostly in a minor key. As it finished so there
was a pause before the applause began.  The four men stood and bowed again
and walked off as the sound died away.

     Rosamund clasped my hand.  "You enjoyed that didn't you?"  I could but
nod.  My head was ringing with the sounds and I wanted more.  She squeezed
my hand.  "Food now, more later!"  I think Rosamund knew I liked both music
and food!

     We had to stand and wait while those in the front row were escorted
out before our party could follow the general exodus into another richly
decorated room.  Candles were everywhere shining back from polished
ornaments and glass.  Liveried servants handed out glasses of wine or
cordial and the ladies sat around small tables with the gentlemen,
including me, standing and chatting, though there were chairs ready for us,
too.  There were many who came to talk to Uncle Billy and I heard many
words of congratulation on the award of his knighthood.  Rosamund said
there were several in the front row who were connected to the Royal Family
but she wasn't sure of their names, however, she recognised two lords and
their wives who had been at the Ball. She whispered that Aunt Fanny had
been asked to join a particular group of ladies who were interested in
charitable work which was quite an honour and she thought that was why we
were chosen to be in that row.

     Aunt Fanny turned to me and asked my opinion about the evening so far
and I said I could not have imagined a better end to my stay in London.
"Next time we must arrange for a full concert for you," she said and
smiled.  I think she was more than pleased by my performance at her At
Home.  We all then took our seats as the servants brought platters of cold
meats, small pies and various ornamented pastries with delightful fillings.
I was sitting opposite Terence who I could see was making a good repast of
the numerous delicacies.  I got a sneer when he saw my laden plate as I
matched him in amount and assortment.  I hoped I would not be sleepy after
such a spread as the time for the recital to continue approached.

     I need not have worried though I was quite replete.  We reassembled in
the main room and the musicians soon came to the platform and after some
applause the Beethoven started.  I was transfixed.  The cello melody at the
beginning gave way to the most glorious interweaving of melody and harmony
and as the movements progressed I knew that Beethoven was a composer I must
learn more about.  At the end there was a torrent of applause.  We stood
and waited until the front row group left the room with much bowing and
imperious nods from two of the ladies especially.  More people came up to
talk and there were discussions on how good the playing had been.  The
delay was good as carriages had to be assembled again.  As we moved from
the room we heard a majordomo calling out names as carriages arrived.  I
heard 'The Right Honourable Lord Canning', 'Sir William Tasker' and
'Captain Francis Witham' among many others.  Uncle Billy and Torquil bid
farewell as 'Sir William Browning' was called.  It wasn't long before we
heard 'Lady Digby Wright' and as my aunt and Rosamund with Terence and
Captain Musgrove moved off so 'Mr Samuel Browning' was next.

     Our journey back to Charles Street was rather slow because of the
press of carriages leaving the various large mansions around Belgrave
Square and along Hyde Park Corner to Piccadilly.  It was particularly foggy
and the yellow murk swirled around and obscured the gaslamps lighting our
way.  My mother began to cough and said she would be glad to leave London
and return to good air in the countryside.  My throat was tickling, too,
and I felt the same.  Of course my father just laughed and said as we,
meaning him and me, would be off by seven in the morning we would have all
this muck blown away by a good gallop.

     Seven in the morning?  It was near midnight as we entered Church
Street.  My father did relent and said we must leave no later than eight as
long as that tardy brother of mine didn't oversleep.  Of course, Torquil
was to ride with us, too.

     Jabez had been on the box with Rowley Roberts and as he helped me
undress ready for bed he asked if I had enjoyed the music as much as he
had.  He then confessed he had been asked by the head footman at the door
if he would oblige as there was a servant missing and so had carried one of
the sconces of candles to the salon and had stayed just inside the door and
made himself useful later by handing in plates for the supper and returned
to hear the Beethoven.  "There is always a way to get what you want," he
informed me.  I congratulated him as we grinned at each other as he also
said one of the footmen had told him the audience was made up of the
'Highest Quality'!

     As we lay in bed he went over his story of what was happening about
his new errand.  My uncle was concerned about the frightened housemaid in
the nearby house and the effect it was having on a groom in his service.
Mr Purrett had made discreet enquiries and had discovered that the owners
were away spending the winter in Italy. To cover their expenses they had
rented out the house for six months to a rather strange woman and her
companion.  It was this peculiar woman who was making the servants so
scared as she claimed she could talk to the spirits of dead people.  She
was holding what she called 'seances' which people attended after paying an
entrance fee.  Mr Purrett had also found that a number of people were so
convinced of the woman's powers, which amounted to fortune-telling, that
they were parting with ever increasing amounts of money for her
predictions.  When Uncle Digby had heard all this he was convinced she was
fraudulent so was determined to stop her.  Mr Purrett and Jabez had been
asked to apply for positions in the household and to find out what they
could.  So far, Jabez had been working as a part-time houseboy both
mornings and had found there was general concern amongst the staff who were
all too frightened of losing their positions by leaving.  He had already
heard there were things like table-rappings heard and he and Mr Purrett
were to enquire if work as footmen in the evenings might be obtainable as
well.

     I said he had to be very careful because there could be danger.  Not,
I thought, from ghosts and spirits, but from evil people who had been found
out.  There was always talk of ghosts and such in the village and I knew
the older grooms had a store of stories to scare the young ones, and I had
heard some at Ashbourne as well.  Uncle Dodd had told Robin and me, when we
were younger and had been frightened by some tale, that we should beware of
such superstitions.  He explained there was a Romish practice of exorcism
as some people were very credulous and believed a person could be inhabited
by an evil spirit.  Robin had asked about the man described in the Gospel
of Luke whom Jesus had freed from an unclean spirit.  Uncle Dodd had
explained that in his experience there were people who were in madhouses
because they believed they were the King or Queen, or some other fanciful
person such as the Archbishop of Canterbury, but it was a sickness in their
heads and was not possession by a spirit or even the devil.  He had said
poor King George, the one called the Farmer King, was thought to be
possessed but a wise doctor had treated him as if he were ill.  Uncle had
laughed and said if he heard strange noises in the night he just clapped
his hands and the mice ran off in the wainscotting.  I had heard many
creaks and bangs in the night in Careby Hall but had learned from my father
that any old building will produce such noises and any skitterings we heard
could be cured by having a good cat rather than with bell, book and candle
as in that Romish practice!

     Jabez said my Uncle Digby had explained the wiles of people like the
women at the house as he had investigated such a case not three years since
where a rich old man had been preyed on by a couple of scoundrels.  They
had convinced the old man that his son, who had died serving in India with
the East India Company, had messages for him saying he owed debts which had
to be paid by giving letters of credit to the pair who would attend to the
business.  They were apprehended when another enraged father had realised
they were gulling him and had followed them to their lodgings where they
had many documents which were their downfall.  Jabez said he was interested
in finding out the tricks the woman employed.

     He also said he had seen the black boy again as Lady Clements was also
at the SoirＦ.  They had used the outside privy together as they had
arrived at the same time but again it was too dark for him to see what the
lad possessed.  They had talked together and he had found Aunt Fanny was to
attend an At Home at Lady Clements the following week and he hoped they
would meet again.

     We were ready for sleep then but, before we settled, once again Jabez
so expertly and gently drew my juices from me and, as we lay head to toe, I
did the same for him.  We shared the remnants on our tongues and clasping
each other fell asleep.  My visit to London was now over.

To be continued: