'Of course he wouldn't have ignored it, Father. But all the same, I don't think he would have liked us to have got involved. It's nothing to do with us.'

'Isn't it?'

Miss Bunce hadn't said a word throughout, but now she put down her cup and said, 'I think Father Bernard's right. Think of the Samaritan.'

'Hear, hear,' said Farther from the fireplace.

Mr Belderboss smiled at him sympathetically and then at Miss Bunce.

'The thing is, Joan, what you have to understand about these country folk is that they don't want help, and certainly not help from outsiders like us. They're a proud people. It'd be an insult to them. There are times, like Esther says, when the greatest kindness is to leave people be. Isn't that right David?'

David put his arm around Miss Bunce.

'I think Mr Belderboss is right,' he said.

Miss Bunce looked at him and then down at her teacup. Mummer took up the reins and steered the conversation back to Father Bernard again.

'You see when Father Wilfred brought us here it felt as though he was able to draw a circle around us. To keep us focused on our own relationship with G.o.d, and allow him to guide us through the days with an attention that he wasn't always able to give us back at Saint Jude's. That was the whole point of being here. It wasn't just a pilgrimage, Father. It was a sanctuary too. It might be worth bearing that in mind.'

Everyone was looking at Father Bernard. He stood up.

'I'll be taking Clement home now,' he said.

'Yes, alright, Father,' said Mr Belderboss.

'Do you want me to come with you?' said Farther. 'Make sure you don't get lost.'

'No, no, Mr Smith,' he said. 'It's kind of you to offer, but I'll be alright.'

'If you're sure.'

'I'd rather you got that fire going for when I get back. The weather looks fair brutal out there.'

'I will, Father,' he said and began untying the bundles of firewood Clement's mother had brought.

'Mind how you go, Father,' Mrs Belderboss called after him as he went out to get his coat. 'Oh dear,' she said once the door was closed. 'I hope we haven't upset him.'

'I think we did,' said Miss Bunce.

'I was right, though, wasn't I?' said Mr Belderboss. 'I mean no one's persecuting Clement are they? It's not our fault.'

Mrs Belderboss patted his hand.

'No, it's not,' she said and then shook her head. 'What a mess,' she continued. 'I don't remember it being so-difficult-when we came with Wilfred.'

'He kept everything simple, that's why,' said Mr Belderboss. 'And he didn't go prying into other people's affairs.'

'Still,' said Mrs Belderboss. 'Everything will be better tomorrow, when we go to the shrine.'

'Yes,' said Mummer and managed a smile.

'What's that bit from Isaiah?' About not worrying about the days that have gone?'

'"Forget the former things; do not dwell in the past,"' said Miss Bunce and finished off her piece of cake.

'That's the one,' said Mrs Belderboss. 'Tomorrow's another day.'

Clement was still waiting patiently on the little chair in the hallway, his walking stick balanced on his knees.

'Can I go home now?' he said.

'I think Father Bernard's just getting his coat,' I replied.

He looked down at the floor.

'I told them not to ring that bell,' he said.

When I didn't respond, he looked up again.

'The bell on Coldbarrow. You know the one up in the old tower next to the house?'

'Yes.'

'It were boarded up for years. But they went out to it.'

'Who did?'

Clement was about to answer but stopped short when a door opened along the hallway. Father Bernard appeared and frowned as he zipped up his coat.

'What's going on?' he said and Clement waved him over and made him sit on the stairs.

'Parkinson and Collier, Father. They went out to Coldbarrow on New Year's Eve just gone and took the boards off the tower and started ringing that b.l.o.o.d.y bell. And not a day or two later there were lights on at Thessaly, and then all this business started.'

Father Bernard looked at me and then back at Clement. 'What business?'

'They told me not to come here anymore,' he said. 'They said they'd get me sent back to Haverigg, like they did last time. But I had to come and warn you about what they've done. And now that your dog's broke that bottle, it might be the only opportunity I get.'

'That old jar in the dining room? What's that to do with anything?'

'Don't you know what it is?'

'No.'

'They're meant to keep witches away from the house,' he said. 'But you have to keep them sealed. And now it's been opened ...'

'Clement,' said Father Bernard. 'Is there someone you want us to call? A doctor maybe. Will your mother be in when we get back? Maybe I ought to speak with her. See if we can get you some help with whatever it is that's bothering you.'

Clement lowered his eyes.

'You don't understand, Father,' he said. 'You must keep away from Parkinson and Collier.'

'Why? What is that you think they've done?'

But Clement didn't have time to answer before someone knocked at the front door with a heavy, rhythmic thud.

Hanny came out of the dining room and grabbed my arm, wanting me to open the door. Gradually everyone was gathered in the hallway and we all listened to the singing coming from outside.

'Who on earth is it?' said Mummer and she sidled through the throng to see.

Chapter Twenty.

The Pace Eggers had always frightened me as a child, looking as they did like things that had crawled out of a nightmare. Each one a mish-mash of fairy tale characters, grotesque as Punch and Judy puppets. Natives of some savage tribe as painted by the children of missionaries.

When we'd come here in the past we'd sometimes see them performing on the green at Little Hagby-half a dozen local men, blacked up like chimney sweeps with only their eyes showing and armed with swords and staffs.

The stink of booze drifted from them as they sang old songs in ba.s.s voices; songs that didn't have the predictable, homely rise and fall of the hymns we'd been singing all week but which tumbled through strange minor keys and moved across intervals that sounded like they might have once charmed the Devil to the surface of the world.

At the front of the pack was Saint George, dressed in a crusader's tabard and banging his wooden staff in time to the song. When it ended he removed his cardboard crown and bowed. Even under all the makeup I could see that it was Parkinson. Collier stood behind him dressed as the character called Brownbags, his dog chained to the gate post outside, straining and yelping.

'We've come as agreed,' said Parkinson to Father Bernard and smiled. Father Bernard glanced at Mummer, who frowned at him.

'And is that Clement you've been entertaining?' Parkinson looked towards the back of the crowd and everyone turned to see the colour drain from Clement's face. 'Well well. Tha gets about, dunt tha, Clement?'

Mummer still had her hand on the door.

'I'm afraid you must have the wrong house,' she said. 'We weren't expecting you.'

Parkinson looked at Father Bernard and smiled.

'We like to get around all the big houses on Easter Sunday,' he said. 'And we thought tha might appreciate some entertainment what with the weather being so foul.'

'Well, perhaps we could come down to the village and watch you some other time?' said Mummer.

'Oh, we won't stop long,' Parkinson replied.

He seemed to have somehow crossed the threshold without Mummer noticing and she had no choice but to step back and allow the men to enter. Each of them nodded their thanks and wiped their feet on the mat-Saint George, Brownbags, the Turkish Knight and the others, one of which swept quickly past completely swaddled in a black cloak, leaving Old Ball, the horse, to come in last, wearing a brown smock and holding a real horse's skull on the end of a pole, a set of gla.s.s eyes clacking inside. It rolled about, grinning, like the thing we'd found in the woods.

Whoever was under the cloak stooped the nag's head so that it would fit through the doorway to the sitting room.

As it swung down, Miss Bunce stepped back and grabbed at Father Bernard's sleeve.

'Do you think this is a good idea?' she whispered to him when the men had all filed past. 'I mean they could be anyone. Is it some pagan thing?'

'Oh, Joan, it's tradition,' Mummer said. 'We've always watched the Pace Egging.'

'What here?'

'Well no not here. But, look, it's just a bit of fun.'

'Fun?'

'Yes,' said Mummer, not quite convinced herself, as she followed the men and started to organise a s.p.a.ce for them to perform.

She might have been doubtful about letting them in, or embarra.s.sed that she had been doorstepped so easily, but now that the Pace Eggers were here Mummer quickly took charge. She would have them in and out quick sharp.

The room was cleared and Mrs Belderboss was dispatched with Miss Bunce to make sandwiches and tea, while Farther and David gathered up as many of the vulnerable ornaments as they could and took them out into the hall.

I helped Father Bernard shift a table out of the way, carrying it into the bay of the window. He kept his eye on the Pace Eggers as they waited for us to get the room ready. Parkinson waved Clement over and handed him an old curtain, which he strung between two lampstands to form a makeshift wing from which they could enter and exit.

'I didn't think they'd really come,' said Father Bernard.

'What do you mean, Father?'

'I didn't say anything to Clement the other day, but Mr Parkinson had already promised to bring the Pace Eggers up to Moorings. I thought it was just the ale talking. He'd had a fair few, like.'

'Do you think we should have let them in, Father?'

He looked over to where the men were getting ready.

'What? Because of what Clement said about them?'

'And what we saw in the woods.'

'Look, we don't know that that had anything to do with them, Tonto. Not really.'

He glanced at them again and laughed quietly at their costumes.

'I think they're harmless enough. And in any case how would it look if we asked them to leave now? I think it's best if we just let them get on with it. What are they going to do here?'

'I don't know.'

'Exactly. Don't worry about what Clement said just now. That's between him and them. It's nothing to do with us. Alright?'

'Yes, Father,' I said, though I was less convinced than he was.

He smiled at Mummer who came over with an expensive looking floorlamp and set it on the table out of harm's way. She looked at him and went away to help David shift a delicate crystal vase off the mantelpiece.