![[Roger the Chapman 04] - The Holy Innocents](https://fs.collectorofbookboyfriends.com/589862/thumbs/152x264/roger-the-chapman-04-the-holy-innocents.jpg)
the purpose of renting it out to others? There was only one conclusion to be drawn in answer to all these questions. Something had happened here; some event which had given everyone, including its owner, a distaste or fear of the house. I could think of no other explanation which fitted the facts, so I decided that while there was still enough daylight to see by, the sooner I looked it over, the better. I stood up and fetched my cudgel from beside my pack, having left both of them just inside the street door.
The downstairs parlour, which the late Sir Jasper Crouchback had also used for trading purposes - whatever those might have been - I already knew, with its panelled walls, its pair of finely carved armchairs, large table, handsome fireplace, decorated overmantel and flagged stone floor. There was also a cupboard whose shelves had most probably once contained silver and pewter plate, but whose doors now swung wide to reveal nothing but dust. The twisting comer stair, which led to the upper storey, had a delicately carved banister to help with the ascent. Altogether, this was a room whose furnishings were designed to impress.
By contrast, the counting-house behind did no more than serve its purpose. A greater air of neglect hung about it, as though it had been long unused. A table, a bench, two stools and a stout cupboard, secured by a rusting lock and chain, was all that it contained, while the beaten-earth floor showed no drift of mouldering rushes, nor any other sign of recent occupancy. The walls were a greenish-grey colour, but it was impossible to guess, at the first cursory glance, whether this was caused by dirt, or by potash and sulphur mixed with the wash of lime. There was nothing here of interest, and I returned to the passageway.
I stepped into the courtyard, which was rinsed with a pale golden light in the rays of the westering sun. The covered gallery to my right threw long, slanting shadows across the paving stones, where soft cushions of moss and tall stems of nettle and hairy bittercress were forcing themselves between the uneven flags. The well and the pump stood close to the kitchen door, which I unlocked with my key. There being nothing there that I had not already seen in the company of Master Cozin, I mounted the ladder to the storeroom and servants' quarters above° The same musty odour of damp and disuse met me here as it did everywhere else in the house, and the bareness of the boards, denuded of all hint of human habitation, only served to emphasize the fact that it was surely some months since anyone had slept here. The walls had again been lime-washed, but this time there was no doubt that red oxide had been added to the quick lime to give it a pinkish colour.
A door in the far wall led into the storeroom, which had a faint, lingering scent of apples to sweeten the less pleasant smells. But this, too, was empty except for a sack of grain in the comer. Sharp teeth had torn a hole in the cloth, and corn was spilling on to the floor. A bright-eyed mouse turned to look at me as I entered; then, with a whisk of its tail and a scutter of tiny claws, disappeared into a hole between the boards. In the comer directly opposite me was another door, and this, when unlocked, opened on to the gallery connecting the two blocks of buildings which comprised the whole.
I descended to the kitchen, locked the door from the inside, and returned once more to the storeroom, stepping out on to the covered way and again meticulously locking the door behind me. The planking shook and creaked a little beneath my weight as I walked the length of the courtyard wall, and I was glad of the handrail for support. Nevertheless, the structure seemed safe enough and in no danger of collapsing.
Yet another door at the other end, when unlocked, gave access to the bedchambers and upstairs parlour of the main dwelling.
The room in which I found myself was obviously the chief of the bedchambers, judging by the four-poster bed,
The downstairs parlour, which the late Sir Jasper Crouchback had also used for trading purposes - whatever those might have been - I already knew, with its panelled walls, its pair of finely carved armchairs, large table, handsome fireplace, decorated overmantel and flagged stone floor. There was also a cupboard whose shelves had most probably once contained silver and pewter plate, but whose doors now swung wide to reveal nothing but dust. The twisting comer stair, which led to the upper storey, had a delicately carved banister to help with the ascent. Altogether, this was a room whose furnishings were designed to impress.
By contrast, the counting-house behind did no more than serve its purpose. A greater air of neglect hung about it, as though it had been long unused. A table, a bench, two stools and a stout cupboard, secured by a rusting lock and chain, was all that it contained, while the beaten-earth floor showed no drift of mouldering rushes, nor any other sign of recent occupancy. The walls were a greenish-grey colour, but it was impossible to guess, at the first cursory glance, whether this was caused by dirt, or by potash and sulphur mixed with the wash of lime. There was nothing here of interest, and I returned to the passageway.
I stepped into the courtyard, which was rinsed with a pale golden light in the rays of the westering sun. The covered gallery to my right threw long, slanting shadows across the paving stones, where soft cushions of moss and tall stems of nettle and hairy bittercress were forcing themselves between the uneven flags. The well and the pump stood close to the kitchen door, which I unlocked with my key. There being nothing there that I had not already seen in the company of Master Cozin, I mounted the ladder to the storeroom and servants' quarters above° The same musty odour of damp and disuse met me here as it did everywhere else in the house, and the bareness of the boards, denuded of all hint of human habitation, only served to emphasize the fact that it was surely some months since anyone had slept here. The walls had again been lime-washed, but this time there was no doubt that red oxide had been added to the quick lime to give it a pinkish colour.
A door in the far wall led into the storeroom, which had a faint, lingering scent of apples to sweeten the less pleasant smells. But this, too, was empty except for a sack of grain in the comer. Sharp teeth had torn a hole in the cloth, and corn was spilling on to the floor. A bright-eyed mouse turned to look at me as I entered; then, with a whisk of its tail and a scutter of tiny claws, disappeared into a hole between the boards. In the comer directly opposite me was another door, and this, when unlocked, opened on to the gallery connecting the two blocks of buildings which comprised the whole.
I descended to the kitchen, locked the door from the inside, and returned once more to the storeroom, stepping out on to the covered way and again meticulously locking the door behind me. The planking shook and creaked a little beneath my weight as I walked the length of the courtyard wall, and I was glad of the handrail for support. Nevertheless, the structure seemed safe enough and in no danger of collapsing.
Yet another door at the other end, when unlocked, gave access to the bedchambers and upstairs parlour of the main dwelling.
The room in which I found myself was obviously the chief of the bedchambers, judging by the four-poster bed,
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