A Latin Education

I have always done my not-insignificant best, to make of my time on Earth, an example which might prove beneficial to the young, whom, I am given to understand, embody the future of our species and, dare I say it, race, upon this globe which, as a mighty poetaster has observed in time of golden memory, [illegible] damn it my pen has blotted.

Very well, I shall continue. I should like to state at the outset, that the price my stationer charges for a simple steel nib is a travesty, and a blight upon the name of commerce. Also, and I say this with due consideration, I believe it is unarguable that he does, in fact, water his bottled ink. If this continues I shall be reduced to scratching upon foolscap with a goose quill and oak-gall ink.

[Tea stain.]

I will return, at a later time, to finish this introduction. As we are in medias res, the supporting players are in the wings and waiting for their stage ‘cues’.

It was, finally, spring, with blessedly beautiful weather that could be expected to continue for as much as a week, if fortune smiled upon this great city. London, or Londinium as it was called by the first scholars to inhabit it, basked in glory. In the parks young ladies, shameless in their youthful recklessness,¹ could be observed at many times strolling, with as few as four or five petticoats. Some were in the company of men whom I suspected, if the truth were known, were not their husbands, their fiancés, nor their brothers or other close kin.

Even I felt the wild joy of spring, for I had just finished a rather well-done (modesty here would be hiding my lantern) essay which, I had every reason to expect, would be looked upon approvingly by the editors of the Royal J. Phil. & Ling.

The first supporting rôle — you may recall that this is the metaphor introduced in the previous-but-two paragraph — was that of Lord Guiffrey de Putternoster, Baron Thatfield, whose son, Podfrey, was due this year to matriculate into Leastbourne College. The Baron, an eccentric, was desirous that his son, though of blue blood, should do well academically. To this end, he had engaged my services as tutor for the lad.

In short order, I arrived at Thatfield Manor, by way of a local train and the station’s dog-cart. I was admitted, with my bag, by an imposing and dignified butler, who invited me to enter the library and wait. I would meet the lad shortly; in the mean time, he (the butler) had been set to assist the governess in the current contretemps.

‘The governess?’ I asked. It happened that the governess had been engaged to see to the weal of Podfrey’s younger sister, Robinette. The sister, it emerged, was a likely lass of 13 years, but so willful and hasty that she could not keep from trouble without management.

I spied the girl and the governess as we progressed. The latter was standing at the foot of the grand staircase, insisting that the former, on the landing above, cease her obstinacy and come down at once. This was a tactical error, as it gave the young lady carte blanche to descend the stair by sliding down the bannister rail, displacing, as she reached the bottom, a large, ugly, and suddenly fragmented vase or urn from a notional table at the bottom.

The governess seemed familiar. I must have shied quite violently, as the butler stepped back to avoid stampeding me. This was no matter to me. The governess I had last met, under the name of Edith Thorndyke, late in the previous year.

Unimpressed, and unsurprised, by her charge, the governess looked up at my approach. With every sign of delight, she called, ‘Why Cedric! How extraordinary to meet you here.’

I was unable to snub her, much as I wished to. ‘Good morning, Mrs …’

‘Thorndyke, yes, we are quite old friends.’

‘Mrs Thorndyke —‘

‘You must call me Edith now. We are so very close friends.’

‘Yes, Edith, then. I had no idea of meeting you here.’ Or anywhere, for that matter.

‘I had an inkling that you would be put in charge of Poddy —‘

‘— Young Master Podfrey —‘ interjected the butler.

‘— as I am now in charge of little Robinette.’

The young lady, no longer to be called ‘little’, took the opportunity to stick out her tongue behind Mrs Thorndyke’s back.

‘We are just about to go down to the refectory for tea and scones. You must join us.’

‘I regret to disappoint you, but I am to be introduced to my “charge” and would not disappoint him.’

‘Well, and we must, simply must, visit, and regale each other with tales of our recent adventures.’

It seemed inevitable. However, my meeting was still in suspense, so we parted, to the kitchen and the library, respectively. Or perhaps the other way around.

---

Podfrey was a breezy young fellow, all ‘what ho’ and ‘house afire’ and ‘don’t you know, old chap’. I maintained decorum, but could see that sterner measures would become necessary. He was interested in hunting, and cricket, and, particularly, the season in London. He was being kept cruelly separated from his bosom ‘pals’ and was looking forward to some long week-ends. He was decades too young for a smoking jacket, but wore a splendid one all the same.

Young Master P. was disappointed to learn that I and he would be remaining at Thatfield. However, I noted gratefully, his attention then turned to learning intensively, so that our time might sooner be over.

He was thoroughly weak in Latin, to my dismay, and unknown to any modern languages, which were, happily, not within my remit. I was willing to begin our work immediately, but he had other, breezier, things to do, and Fredmont (the butler) would see me comfortably installed.

My room, it emerged, was large, sunny, well-appointed, and two rooms, with one being a sitting-room, which would make an ideal locum for instruction. His Lordship’s valet was not available at present, but I could get on well on my own, and could ring the bell to summon, at the moment, tea and a plate of scones from the kitchen.

After this, with no one bustling within the house, I descended to the library, to see what was in offing.

The library was not large, but did cover a wide array of subjects both trivial and quadrivial. The bindings were excellent, and showed signs of having been used regularly. I took this as a hopeful sign.

It was not long before Edith Thorndyke, having escaped her charge, made her appearance. I had begun to suspect that her influence had, in some way, occasioned my situation.

‘This will be excellent exercise for you, Cedric. The lad is quite some character, and may be able to loosen even your stays.’

‘And might it be that I could assist you in some small way, as we are great friends and old acquaintances?’

‘We can speak of such things later. The lord of the manor stayed in London, and we have the whole place practically to ourselves. I’ve imposed upon the staff to let me join them for supper in the kitchen, and you must also. You will find them quite congenial. You mightn’t think it, but Fredmont can tell some quite wicked stories!’

I had intended to set to teaching right away, but young master Podfrey was not to be found, and had not emerged by supper time. Certainly he must have eaten at some time, but I never did learn where or when.

The staff supper was all it had been promised to be. The members were lively but not raucous, the stories spicy but not ribald. All the crew were family as much as friends, except for one under-gardener and the household dogsbody, who had come recently.

The party broke up, each to his duties, and I to sulking about until it was bed-time. Some time later, though I had not yet donned my sleeping garments, Mrs Thorndyke appeared, shockingly, at my door. Before I could protest, she slipped inside, quickly and surreptitiously, and shut the door.

‘Well, it is fine to see you here, Cedric,’ she opened.

‘Mrs Thorndyke …’ I returned.

‘You must call me Edith,’ she backhanded, somewhat crossly in my opinion.

‘Edith,’ I said, trying manfully to keep the ball within the court. ‘Am I wrong in suspecting that you have something to do with my finding this position?

‘And what if I do? It had your name written all over it. And you may remember that you owe me a favor.’

‘I remember no such thing!’ was my forceful reply.

‘Well, you certainly owe me one now,’ she answered tranquilly. ‘And while we’re speaking of it, do you know how the Baron’s ancestor got his fortune?’ She leaned forward to whisper in confidence. ‘Piracy, that’s how!’

‘Impossible. I happen to know that his is a very respectable family.’

‘Then it has a very respectable skeleton in its closet. The first baron, just one hundred years ago, carried letters of marque and reprisal for George III. Old batty George, that is.’

‘And does this matter?’

‘It matters if some of his looted fortune did not make it into the royal coffers, but is still secreted somewhere about this manor.’

‘You can’t be serious!’

‘Can’t I? Why not?’

‘You can’t go around stealing people’s stolen fortunes. It won’t do. And won’t he miss it?’

‘It happens that none of the family today know it exists. I only know of it from the fortuitous discovery of some papers, left, carelessly unguarded, inside a rather heavy safe.’

‘But what leads you to think that I will have anything to do with out-and-out robbery?’

‘Are you quite impressed with the amount old Putternoster has promised to pay you? And do you actually believe he will do so?’

This suggestion stunned me. I am not avaricious, but just at that time my finances were somewhat distressed, and I had very much counted on Lord Guiffrey to come across.

Still, having my ‘old friend’ in my rooms late in the evening was not something I could face with equanimity. As quickly as could be, I sent her away, then went to bed and spent the rest of the night awake.

---

Despite the restless night, I was up the next morning, breakfasted and ready to assume my responsibilities. To my great surprise, Podfrey was too. Even willing, it seemed; we met in the library, where I proposed a course of instruction for the next few months.

At this, the young man jibed. His object, he told me quite frankly, and colloquially, was to see my duties finished as quickly as possible, so that he might return to his divers … diversions.

Although I found his attitude distasteful, I was somewhat surprised to find the lad possessed of a capable and flexible mind. Were it not set to thwarting mine, it would be capable of real scholarship. But, this seemed unlikely to come about.

We settled on a compromise, for the immediate future. Mornings would be spent in instruction, afternoons on his own pursuits, and we would meet briefly in the evenings to discuss his studies. When he would do his reading was unstated, but he informed me, in his recognisable fashion that could only be described as ‘breezy’, that this would pose no difficulty.

We set out with a scenic tour of Italy and the Latin language. On this, he held some entirely remarkable opinions, on the lives, hobbies, and likely interests of a number of distinguished historical figures. Getting past this occupied most of the morning. After luncheon, I was glad for the respite, as it took some time to shake out my mind and settle it into a more normal configuration.

Of course, Mrs Thorndyke would not let me free this easily. In the afternoon she inveigled me into tea in the south garden, where we met together with her charge, Robinette. The girl turned somersaults, picked unripe fruit, and disported herself as Edith looked on tolerantly. I followed suit.

Assuring herself that Robinette was out of earshot, Edith told me, confidentially, that she was on the track of the stolen fortune. The under-gardener, she believed, knew of it somehow, and was scouting the gardens for likely spots. The dogsbody, having run of the house, had fallen to her spell, and would inform her of any likely signs.

What, then, of our charges? Surely she did not intend to nobble the gold and do a ‘runner’, leaving her charge unattended. She, not entirely lost to civility, undertook to find some accommodation, presently unspecified.

Two days later, Master Podfrey had graduated from distressing the Latin tongue, to doing the same for more contemporary authors. We slogged on, or I did, making a little slow, painful headway.

Sunday marked my first day of grace at the Manor. I had hoped to spend it quietly, but Edith Thorndyke had other intentions. Coming on me, alone and helpless in the library, she ducked her head to hiss at me. ‘Willum [the under-gardener] is on to something. We must ensure that he cannot pocket the loot without our knowing.’

She led the way outside, past the kitchen and midden, to a little coppice near the disused cottage at the edge of the grounds. We observed the man plying a garden spade near the back of the construction.

We were making our stealthy way along the cottage’s side, when a whispered salutation greeted us. ‘What ho, chaps! Are we having a game of nivinivinack?’ Podfrey, who had been established in the cottage and making good use of his smoking jacket, had seen us and wished to join in the fun.

‘Nothing of the sort!’ I retorted. ‘And further, what is your business here?’

‘I live here, don’t you know? But what is your business, since it seems not to be education?’

I tried to think of a suitable answer, when Edith, showing a decisiveness I had not expected, told him, ‘That fellow is searching for hidden gold, which he intends to steal!’

‘That is not right. It will not do! We have first claim on any theft to be had.’

I was not sanguine, but by Edith’s direction, ‘Pod’ hurried back into the cottage, and emerged with a large and strong pillow-case to serve as a sea-bag. Edith laid out her plan, which was simplicity itself. We would create some noise, deeper within the copse, and when he went to investigate, the young man and I would swoop in and confiscate the treasure.

And what of Willum? Edith informed us that she, herself, would see to him, and there would be no trouble.

The procedure went just as smoothly as she had presented it. We hurried back to the manor, intending to slip in with no one the wiser. But when we got there, our plans were upset. Lord Guiffrey had made his belated appearance, and was engaged in sending all the staff everywhere, bringing in his baggage, opening and shaking out unused rooms, calling upon the village butcher and greengrocer for victuals and viands, and generally upsetting what appeared to be a rather large ant-hill.

Well, there was no thought of our entering unobserved. With no other likely options, we waited near the gate until the hired coach left. Then we braced the driver, fed him a story and a handful of silver, and made our escape back to London.

That was Sunday. Three days later, I await Edith’s return with news, a passport for Master Podfrey, and proceeds from the sub-rosa disposal of some part of the takings. For myself, she has arranged for a suitably imaginative excuse for my sudden departure, and the return of my abandoned possessions. She assures me that there will be no repercussions, and my share, free and clear, can go to my debts and needs, with appropriate care to raise no eyebrows.

And what of her? I do not know, and I am sure that I do not care. She will make her way, in whatever fashion suits her, and, if fortune smiles, I will not meet her again for some, long, time.

• Ashford Files