Assessed (Episode 39 - The Further Chronicles of a Young Lady (and her Maid))

Yes, I quite agree, more than seven months elapsing between episodes is extracting the Michael more than somewhat!  Nevertheless, if you're willing to stick with the story, you may recall that in Episode 38, 'Arry unearthed a coin from the garden and Gwladys swore him to secrecy, Dolly returned from her assignation with Clarence in tow and Gwladys announced that the garden was out of bounds for everyone for the time being and that she was going to visit the Apothecary before attending a mysterious business appointment.  Now read on:

 

The light was fading as Gwladys tied up her pony and trap outside a very ramshackle building that seemed, illogically, to have more of an upstairs than a downstairs.  She looked around at her surroundings with a degree of suspicion.  It was bad enough to find yourself in the back streets of a town you did not know, to be there as it was getting dark was another thing altogether.

She rapped on the door, not at all convinced that it would survive the ordeal.  There was the sound of someone shuffling, laboriously, down the stairs, before the door opened a crack and a pair of bespectacled eyes peered out.

“Harumph Yes?”

“Folk reckon you know a thing or two about old stuff, is that right?” Gwladys asked.

“I harumph style myself as an Antiquarian, that is correct”

“Antick…?”  Gwladys frowned.

“It is a relatively new term, recently harumph, coined, as it were” The man opened the door a little more.  He had a thin face, framed by unkempt hair.  He was wearing a sort of grubby woollen cape over a rather shabby waistcoat and trousers.

“So, yer do know about old stuff, yeah?”

“I believe I have some harumph expertise in that regard” The man nodded, solemnly.

“Only, I’ve got summat I’d like yer to take a look at” Gwladys reached into the depths of the folds in her skirts and produced the coin, which managed to glint even in this fading light.

“Ah!” The man blinked, cleared his throat, and motioned for Gwladys to follow him.  Looking around to make sure that no-one was watching them, Gwladys stooped to make her way through the door and, with considerable trepidation, followed the man up the stairs.

“Mind the harumph, stairs.  Some of them…well, some of them…they are not there, do you see?”

Gwladys just managed to stop her right foot plunging down a gaping hole.  She gulped and proceeded with extreme caution.

“So, here we are, harumph, here we are” The Antiquarian gestured around the gloomy, candle-lit room.  There was a long table covered in bits of bone, cracked pots and a stuffed owl with a rather surprised expression.

“Very…nice” Gwladys said, without conviction.

“Modest but, harumph, home nevertheless” The Antiquarian nodded and motioned her to sit.  She cleared some papers from the chair and did so.  “Now, you have something for, harumph, me?”  He reached out and grabbed the coin, eagerly.  He dragged over a much larger version of Gwladys’s ‘spy glass’, only this one was on a wire stand, so that he could hold the object with both hands.

“Hmmm” He screwed up his eyes and turned the coin over and over.

“Different, innit?” Gwladys ventured, after a while.

“It is, harumph, interesting, certainly” The Antiquarian nodded.

“Gold, innit?” Gwladys raised an eyebrow.

“Gold?”  The Antiquarian looked surprised, then frowned, “Well, it is possible, I suppose” He conceded.

“Very heavy” Gwladys pointed out.

“Indeed” The Antiquarian agreed, “it, harumph, may well be gold but…” He seemed to be thinking, furiously, “I would need to do further tests” He said, eventually.

“Do yer know what it is?”

“I harumph, I could not be sure” He turned the coin this way and that.  “It is, harumph, unusual to say the least”

“Is it a coin?”

“Erm…” The Antiquarian screwed his face up and seemed to be wrestling with some hidden dilemma, “Yes,” He said, eventually, “I would say that it was, or rather, it harumph is.  Where did you say you found it?”  He asked, innocently.

“I didner” Gwladys gave him a thin smile.

“Ah, harumph, quite so, quite so” The Antiquarian looked a little flustered.

“It was with some things of me gran’s” Gwladys explained.

“Really?  Really?” More furious turning of the coin this way and that, “Were there, harumph, more of these?”  He asked, hopefully.

“Nah, just that” Gwladys shook her head.

“Ah, pity” The Antiquarian looked crestfallen.

“Only, it dunner look like any coin I’ve ever seen afore, that’s why I brought it to you”

“Yes, erm, well” The Antiquarian was clearly torn between showing off his knowledge and not giving too much away.  “It is of, harumph, interest, certainly.  You will have noted the visage on the obverse?”

“Eh?”  Gwladys frowned.

“The, harumph, head, here?”  The Antiquarian pointed to one side of the coin, “This is of, harumph, particular interest”

“The King, innit?”  Gwladys asked, innocently.

“Erm, no, I think not” The Antiquarian screwed his eyes up, again, “It seems to me, although I could not, harumph, swear to this, that this may be a nobleman of some form or other.  It is, harumph, most certainly not the King or, for that matter, any King of which I know”

“Oh, so, is that unusual?”

“It is, harumph, somewhat unusual” The Antiquarian hedged his bets.

“And, would it have a value?” Gwladys asked, cautiously.

“Value?” The Antiquarian looked surprised.  “Value?”  He seemed to be weighing things up.  “Well, I suppose it has a, harumph, curiosity value”

“Curiosity?”

“By which, I mean to say, to an Antiquarian, such as myself” He explained.

“Ah, so you would…?” Gwladys began.

“Well, harumph, I might…” The Antiquarian fiddled about with his pockets and looked flustered.

“Of course, I ain’t sayin’ I’m gonna sell it, d’yer see?”

“No, no, of course” The Antiquarian looked a little relieved, “but, were you to do so, I could possibly offer…” He scribbled a number of a piece of paper and slid it across to Gwladys, who frowned.

“That’s it, is it?”

“Well, I suppose I could…”  The Antiquarian retrieved the piece of paper, scribbled out the original number and replaced it with another one, passing it over to Gwladys.

Gwladys perused the number and pursed her lips.

“Hmm, would that be it, then?” She raised an eyebrow.

“I, harumph, rather think so” He nodded.

“Well, thank you for that” Gwladys went to pick up the coin.

“Was that not…sufficient?” The Antiquarian looked surprised.

“I dunno” Gwladys shrugged, “it inner just mine, yer see.  It’s part me Mam’s an’ all””

“Ah, I, harumph, see” The Antiquarian looked disappointed.  He stroked his beard and seemed deep in thought.  An idea appeared to occur to him.  “But, where are my manners!  You will take a cup of wine with me?”

“I will?” Gwladys looked surprised.

“Oh, but, harumph, you must!”  The Antiquarian insisted, “You will have travelled some distance, I surmise?”

“A bit” Gwladys agreed.

“Wine it is, then!”  The Antiquarian beamed, pulled the coin back toward him and marched, with surprising alacrity, to a table at the end of the room.  There was the sound of wine being poured from a flagon.  Then some shuffling about, in which he seemed to be rooting through his pockets.  Finally, he turned, clutching two goblets, and, with a fixed smile, carried them back to his study bench.  “There we, harumph, are” He placed one of the goblets, very deliberately, in front of Gwladys.

“Ta” She looked at the dark liquid, swirling before her, suspiciously.

“Bottoms, harumph, up!” The Antiquarian suggested, taking a hefty swig from his goblet.

“Was that your door?” Gwladys asked.

“Was what my door?”  The Antiquarian looked puzzled.

“That knocking”

“Knocking?  I heard no knocking!”

“Oh, well…” Gwladys shrugged.

The Antiquarian looked to be on the horns of a dilemma.  This time, there was a definite knocking.

“There it is again!” Gwladys pointed out.

“Indeed!  Indeed!  Will you excuse me, for a, harumph, moment?”

The Antiquarian bustled off down the treacherous stairs.  Gwladys brought the fist with which she had just knocked, from beneath the bench.  Enclosed in the fist was a folded piece of paper.  She took this and poured a quantity of powder into her goblet, stirring it with a random bit of bone she found on the bench.  There was the sound of heavy footsteps making their way back up the stairs as she deftly swapped her goblet for the Antiquarian’s.

“So many times…so many times…” The Antiquarian grumbled as he re-entered the room.

“Is everything alright?” Gwladys asked, sweetly.

“The brats in this neighbourhood, time and again!” He muttered.

“There was nobody there?”

“Never is, never is!  Damn children!” He shook his head, frowned, grabbed his goblet and, oblivious of the fact that it was now fuller than when he left it, drank heavily.

“Nippers, eh?” Gwladys grinned.

The Antiquarian glared at her, took a deep breath, smiled a sort of vacant smile and then crashed, face down, onto the bench.

This series can be found, in full, starting at Episode 1, right here on ABCTales.

You can find the previous adventures of Gwladys and Aefelthrith in both Kindle and paperback formats at The Chronicles of a Young Lady (and her Maid (link is external)