A Summer of Discontent

‘For his silence, after Ralph was foolish enough to confess,’ said de Lisle. ‘At least, that is what Ralph told me. Clever old Ralph! He took money from me — which he said he was going to give Henry — and now I learn that he also took money from Henry. Both for the same thing. It just goes to show that you never know people as well as you think.’ He gave them an absent smile, and spurred his horse away, down the road that led to Cambridge.

‘He knew!’ exclaimed Bartholomew, regarding the proud prelate in horror. ‘He knew Ralph killed Glovere! He was even paying Ralph to ensure that Henry kept silent.’

‘You are right,’ whispered Michael, staring at the elegant figure of the Bishop astride his black horse as he rode away from Ely. ‘De Lisle was guilty all along!’