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“Mr Ball’s room is next door.”
Marcus nodded and followed him into the room. “Mr Ball is the quiet, shy one, whose gaze is always flickering around the table.”
“That’s right. When Mr Ball speaks, he does so quietly, almost to the point that I have to strain to hear him and miss most of what he says.”
Marcus nodded. He had his suspicions that the man’s quiet speech was to protect the accent Mr Ball couldn’t quite erase.
Once inside the room, he sighed deeply at the piles upon piles of books everywhere. In deference to Abernathy’s barren room, Ball’s room was cluttered.
“Please tell me that we don’t have to check all of these,” Ben murmured.
“Of course, we do, but there is a logical way of making sure we put them back exactly as we found them.”
Marcus showed him what to do, and began to shake the books out to check for hidden compartments. Once he had worked his way to the bottom of the pile before him, he checked the floor boards beneath and then moved on to the next pile.
“We are going to be here all day.” Ben sighed but began to work his way across from the other side of the room.
“I hope not,” Marcus replied fervently and moved on to the next pile.
“What are we looking for?”
“Anything we can find,” Marcus grunted. “Can you read?”
Ben shook his head.
Marcus sighed and took a look at the spines on several of the books.
“Here,” Ben murmured as he peered into a small hole.
He pointed to a small groove that someone had carved into the wall behind a stack of books. When Marcus moved to join him, he slowly teased the object out of its confines and placed it on the floor so they could both see it.
Marcus carefully unwrapped it and shook his head when he revealed several precious gems to their stunned gazes.
“Oh, my word,” Ben whispered reverently. “They are beautiful.”
“They are not the Squire’s jewels,” Marcus murmured in disgust.
“Who?”
“The Squire,”
“What Squire?” Ben’s eyes were alive with interest.
Marcus knew that the lad’s reaction was so instinctive, and the honesty in his eyes was so pure, that Ben was innocent. He had absolutely no idea who the Squire was. He hadn’t been at the Squire’s house and wasn’t the courier.
“Framley Meadows,” he murmured, just to make sure.
Ben looked at him blankly. “What?”
Marcus shook his head. “So, tell me, Ben, who else in this village looks like you?”
“Pardon?”
“Who else around these parts, especially in the village, is about your height and build? Who would match your size and height and be able to ride for hours?” Marcus repeated impatiently.
Ben thought about that for a moment. “Well, there is Bert Rodgers; he is about the same height and size. But he suffers from his hips so couldn’t possibly ride for several hours. Mr Gillespie is a bit taller than me. Mr Ball is too short, and Mr Abernathy is too skinny. The only other person I can think of who is about the same size is Carruthers, but he is always with Lloyd. But, I don’t think either of them has been anywhere of late. They have been hanging around here, trying to catch me.”
“So stop,” Marcus warned. “Before they do catch you, and you end up going to prison for a long time.”
