Death of a Burrowing Mole

enemies from climbing over the walls.

‘There may have been a postern gate between the keep and the nearest lookout tower, but now there is nothing but a gap in the wall. On the opposite side there are some remains which may have been the old hall before a larger castle hall was built in the small enclosed inner bailey which also contains the keep.

‘There is a long, deep ditch, still plainly to be seen, between the outer bailey and the middle bailey, and we may be able to find the remains of the secondary gatehouse which would have been approached by a drawbridge, for the ditch acted as a dry moat. There would have been no direct access to the inner bailey from this direction. The entry from the middle bailey would have been round to the side in accordance with the strategy of the times, which tried to ensure that an attacker had to walk as far as possible and under constant threat from the besieged garrison before he was able to attempt to storm the last entrance to the castle. Any questions?’

‘No,’ said Veryan, ‘but your ditch is interesting.’

‘Yes, sir,’ said Tom Hassocks. ‘What about the water supply?’

‘That’s a good question,’ said Edward. ‘In a place of this size, there would have been two, or possibly three, wells. A small stream runs past the foot of the hill, and there must be a spring or springs somewhere on the hillside as well. The builders of the Middle Ages were more knowledgeable about feats of engineering than is sometimes thought. They understood the use of water-towers and they knew how to pipe water from the source of supply up to their buildings. They used oak, elm and often lead for their pipes and my secondary interest is to see whether we can locate any of these underground conduits. They still should be in existence.’

‘Two or three wells, I think you said, sir,’ said Bonamy.

‘Choked with rubble by now, I fear, Mr Monkswood. One of our tasks will be to locate and partly clear them. Are you volunteering for what may prove to be a thankless task?’

‘You mean we are unlikely to locate them, sir?’

‘Oh, I have every hope of finding them. One was probably in the outer bailey near what I think was another postern gate guarded by its flanking-tower, and there was probably another in the keep itself, where there is a good chance that we shall locate it when we have cleared the interior of the building. Clearing the wells themselves will be a different and more difficult matter.’

‘Would there still be water in the wells?’ asked Tom.

‘I don’t see why not. Anyway, I have made a large plan in Indian ink of the site, and Dr Lochlure has said she is prepared to pin it up in her caravan in case anybody wishes to consult it, as the next tide will wash away this ephemeral picture we have here.’

‘Do you want us any longer, Edward?’ asked his wife, as he paused.

‘No, Lilian. There is only one more thing. My concern is with the castle buildings, or what remains of them. The interior of the large outer bailey, which, as we have seen, is the flat expanse between the slope which leads up from the main gatehouse to the defensive ditch, is the province of Professor Veryan and we shall not encroach upon it. Away with you, then. Get some lunch and then everybody should be at the foot of the castle mound by half-past two.’

The group broke up and dispersed. As they walked back to where the party had left their cars, Tom said to Bonamy, ‘I’ll tell you what. Let’s scour the neighbourhood for a pub outside the village. Veryan and the other overlords will make for the Barbican. We’ve got until two-thirty, so there’s plenty of time for a reconnaissance.’

There had been a discussion between the two young men concerning cars. Bonamy had suggested that they rely only on his, for Tom had been staying with him the night before the two of them were due to begin the survey of the castle, but Tom dismissed the idea. If the group was to include girls, a party of four in one car might be all right on some occasions, but there would be other occasions when, as he expressed it, a man could work better on his own. There were more important things in life, he pointed out, than sharing the price of a few gallons of petrol, and one of these was that a man must have scope if he wanted to get action.

The girls, except for Susannah, however, had proved something of a disappointment, and Susannah was as tantalisingly beyond reach as the grapes were to the fox, so the young men had no option but to resign themselves and endeavour to imitate the fox’s bitter attempt at self-consolation by surmising that the grapes were sour.

‘She’s probably frigid,’ said Tom. ‘These brainy, beautiful women often are. She must be nearly thirty, anyway. Well, now,’ he went on, ‘our problem, as I see it, is to keep all knowledge of our private activities from the others until we have something to report. It’s a nuisance having the girls’ caravan parked right at the foot of the hill. They will want to know what we’re up to.’

‘There isn’t anywhere else near at hand where they can possibly leave it. We’ll have to put our cars there, too. I wonder the gypsies haven’t taken over that verge before this. It’s wide and it’s flat and it’s grassy,’ said Bonamy.

‘Well, let’s hope the girls are heavy sleepers.’

‘I wouldn’t put it past that young Priscilla to rise before dawn and gather a nosegay while the dew is still on it. She looks a chronic Gawdelpus to me. I suspect her of being a secret folk-dancer and Fiona is probably an early- morning jogger.’

‘Well, so long as she jogs away from our mound and not up it, that won’t affect us. What about Susannah? I don’t see her as part of the dawn chorus.’

‘Well, it seems as though she will stick to the caravan, anyway. Perhaps she thinks the girls need a chaperone with types like us about.’

‘That blest pair of sirens wouldn’t need a chaperone even if you set them down with Brigham Young in Salt Lake City. Never mind the girls. Let us thank goodness for the sybaritic tendencies of the Senior Common Room. At least we shan’t have Veryan, Tynant and the Saltergates breathing down our necks at crack of dawn.’

‘True, but I’m not too happy about young Priscilla. The trouble with girls who don’t have a sex life to contend with is that they need an outlet in other directions. Priscilla has all the earmarks of perpetual spinsterhood. That being so, her nose will always be into other people’s business and that’s the last thing we want. I have a hunch that she doesn’t lack brains, either.’

‘I wouldn’t worry about Priscilla. If she did get up early, she wouldn’t trouble about what we were up to. She would probably be saying her prayers to the sun or meditating on mutability. She’s the Yoga type. Any danger, as I see it, would come from Fiona. She is, I suspect, beetle-brained, and probably full of innocent, childish curiosity.’