Read Ellis Peters - George Felse 13 - Rainbow's End for Free Online Page B

hear of it.’
    They mulled that over in silence for some moments, and found but one fault in it. Ginger dispiritedly put it into words. ‘That sounds all very well. But we haven’t got an antique to shove under his nose, real or fake. And even if we had, we wouldn’t know how to set about it.’
    ‘But I have,’ said Bossie portentously, sinking his voice to hollow depths of conspiracy. ‘And
I DO
!’
     
    ‘Dad,’ demanded Bossie, emerging with knitted brows from behind an enormous book containing full-page illustrations from the Stonyhurst Gospels, ‘how late did they go on writing in uncials?’
    Sam barely looked up from his desk, and showed no excitement or curiosity whatever at this sudden enquiry. No question from Bossie, on any subject from Egyptian hieroglyphs to nuclear physics, could surprise his parents. He was an insatiable sponge for knowledge of all kinds.
    ‘Oh, it petered out round about the eighth to the ninth century, I suppose.’
    ‘Pity!’ said Bossie. ‘It’s easy to read. How did they write after that, then?’
    ‘It got more and more loose and cursive, and a lot harder to read, you’re right there.’
    ‘Where can I find a copy, say about late thirteenth century?’
    Sam got up good-naturedly, and reached down a book almost as large, and opened it for him at one of the facsimile plates. ‘There you are, probably rather a better script than most, it’s out of a Benedictine chartulary, thirteenth century. They were letting out some land at farm. That’s a fair sample.’ He went back to his work without further question.
    Bossie studied the page before him critically, and jutted a thoughtful lip. ‘What’s this word here? Look! “p’tin suis, et terra Fereholt cu’ p’tin’ suis.” ‘P’tin’isn’t a proper word.’ His Latin was good, but he had not so far been called upon to cope with unextended mediaeval examples.
    ‘Those are the contractions the clerks made,’ Sam reassured him absently. ‘With all the copying they had to do, they adopted a method of shorthand. They could understand and translate it, even if their bosses couldn’t. And probably a lot of their bosses couldn’t read, anyway, so they had to leave it to the clerks. “P’tin’ suis,” is “its appurtenances.” They were farming out some piece of land you didn’t name,“with its appurtenances, and the land of Fereholt with its appurtenances.” ’
    ‘Not a bad idea, shortening everything like that,’ Bossie approved, with a purposeful gleam in his eye, as though he had seen a short cut round a laborious chore. ‘Can I borrow this for tonight?’
    ‘Sure! Bring it back when you’ve done. Want the Latin dictionary? Or shall I extend the whole page for you, so you can read it yourself?’ And he pushed back his chair, and was really looking at his son now, willing to ditch his own current labours to assist in whatever Bossie was grappling with.
    ‘No, thanks, that’s all right.’ Bossie sensed that his disclaimer had been a shade hasty, which might indicate an undertaking on the suspect side. But he knew all the words calculated to intimidate parents, and was adroit in using them. ‘It’s all right for me to
ask
,’ he explained generously, ‘but I mustn’t let you help me.’ And drawing breath for the
coup de grâce
, ‘It’s for a SPECIAL PROJECT!’ he said with enormous dignity, and bore the chartulary of the Benedictine brothers away to his own room.
     
    During the week following these curious activities of Bossie Jarvis, Arthur Everard Rainbow came home from choir practice somewhat later than usual, and instead of dropping his music-case casually on the hall table, carried it through to his own sacred study, clasped under his arm with jealous fondness. His wife, who had sailed out from her drawing-room to meet him, letting out with her floating skirts the murmur of voices and the sound of well-produced string music, noted his passage with mild interest, went back to her