What About Cecelia?

by Amelia Grace Treader

  “Just a pint?”

  “Just one, and I'm paying.”

  “For that I'll tell you about Gelert. Interesting story.”

  George patiently endured Walter's digressive explanation of the Gelert legendviii at the pub.

  “So this dog, Gelert, saved the King's infant son from a wolf?”

  “Yes, and the King killed the dog, thinking that she had killed the child.”

  “And he never smiled again?”

  “Never.”

  “Melancholy tale, isn't it. It's not really your style Walter.”

  “I suppose not. When I tell it to you, it smacks of commonplace maudlin sentiments.”

  “Where you trying to tell me something with it?”

  “Me? Not that I can think of. Unless maybe.”

  “Maybe what?”

  “Just an idea, no it would never work. It's too daft.”

  “What!”

  “Why don't you take that dog of yours, Heulwen wasn't it?”

  “Take her where?”

  “To Swansea? She'll recognize Miss Wood, won't she?”

  George was awestruck with the simplicity of the idea. “That's fantastic! Heulwen would know Cecelia anywhere. I'd buy you another pint, but I really must be on my way back to Penyclawdd. Got to see a man about a carriage and get packing.”

  Landor, oblivious as usual, replied, “If you say so, I'm due back anyway. Julia will be worried about me if I'm away too long. Seems to think I'm always ready for an argument.”

  “Aren't you?”

  “An argument no, a good friendly heated philosophical discussion, any time. It's just that too many people get them mixed up.”

  George pushed his horse to a gallop on the way back to Penyclawdd. He shot up Hereford road, then off onto the farm lane and into the farmyard. He shouted for his groom. The groom came out of the stables, “Captain Wood, sir! What is it?”

  He tossed the groom his reins, and shot back, “I've found her! I'll need the carriage tomorrow.”

  “Found who?”

  “Miss Wood, that's whom.”

  The groom smiled. If it were it his place he would have congratulated Captain Wood with a hearty slap on the back. As it was, he would pass the news to the other servants and the tenant farmers. There would be a quiet gasp of relief across the estate as the news spread.

  “Sir! Speaking of Miss Wood, Mr. Jones has a question about his farm. Miss Wood usually handles these questions. She's been acting as the steward ever since her father fell ill.”

  “What does it have to do with either her or me?”

  “He's one of your tenants. He wants to harvest lumber from the Coed.”

  “Coed?”

  “The woods.”

  “Why?”

  “To sell in Abergavenny.”

  “What would Miss Wood have said?”

  “Mostly likely no, sir.”

  “Tell him I'll be here this evening, and only this evening, if he wants my answer.”

  “And sir?”

  “Yes?”

  “How far are you going with the carriage?”

  “Swansea.”

  “Then I'd best see about hiring postilitons and horses.”

  “Do whatever you think best. I just want a carriage, here, in front of the house ready to take you, me, Meadows and Miss Wood's maid to Swansea early in the morning. Understand?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. Please see that it happens. Oh and Heulwen is coming as well.”

  “The dog, sir?”

  “Especially her. I need that dog with us. She is going to find Miss Wood for us.”

  The tenant farmer, Mr. Jones, called on Captain Wood that evening. He stood in the front hall and waited while the Captain hurried down to meet him.

  He asked, “Sir, What's happening?”

  “Just getting ready to make a trip to Swansea. Miss Wood is there or more likely nearby. Staying with her aunt. At least that's where the evidence points.”

  “Did you hear about my request?”

  “You want to harvest timber from the Coed?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I understand that Miss Wood did not approve of this activity.”

  “No, sir. She didn't.”

  “Explain to me why I should alter her wishes? How much wood and why?”

  “Well sir, there's a good market in Abergavenny for lumber right now.”

  “So you'd like to strip the hillside and make a few pounds?”

  “Not as such sir.”

  “Then what?”

  “A few trees are getting old and overgrown. They need to be thinned if the forest is to be healthy.”

  “I see. Which trees?”

  “I can show you. Sir Giles, before he took ill, would let us do this.”

  “You are aware, that I'm in a hurry right this instant, aren't you?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Is there any reason to rush this decision?”

  Mr. Jones thought, then replied, “Not really sir. The trees aren't going to walk away, are they? It will take some months to season the lumber for sale.”

  “Good, then when I get back, hopefully with Miss Wood, we'll examine this in more detail. If you're right about the trees, there won't be a problem. If you're telling me a fable, though I may have to look into the matter of rents.”

  “No, no sir. The gospel truth.”

  “Then you don't have anything to worry about.”

  “Thank you sir.” Mr. Jones turned to leave when the Captain interrupted him.

  “Mr. Jones?”

  “Sir?”

  “You wouldn't know anything about Miss Wood's Aunt or Uncle per chance?”

  “Well sir, now that I think on it. I remember that he was a vicar.”

  “I knew that, anything else?”

  “Don't rightly remember his name, but his church wasn't in the big part of Glamorgan. It was in a little place off to the side, somewhere they called the Gower.”

  “If you'd wait and let me run through some names. Maybe you'd recognize one?”

  “You can try, sir. If I remember I'll tell you.”

  Captain Wood retrieved the topographical dictionary and started down the list of incumbent vicars. Unfortunately none of the names triggered a response.

  “Sorry sir, that I couldn't be more helpful.”

  “That's the way it is. Thank you, and don't forget. Don't harvest any lumber until I return and approve it.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Anything else? I have to see that we're ready for our trip tomorrow.”

  14. The Hunt is On Again.

  The carriage from Penyclawdd pulled into Swansea late in the afternoon. Captain Wood, Meadows and Heulwen left the groom and Martha to arrange things at the White Swan. Standing in the middle of high street, they debated what to try.

  Meadows suggested, “I was wondering sir, if we might ask at one of the larger churches?”

  “Why?”

  “It occurred to me that the local clergy must know each other, by repute if nothing else.”

  “It's worth a try.”

  It took them asking directions several times, but eventually they found themselves at St. Mary's. Captain Wood asked, “Meadows, if you would restrain Heulwen here, I'll go ask at the rectory.”

  “Sir. I'll ask any persons who appear to be wearing clerical garb.”

  “Excellent. One of us will catch ourselves a cleric.”

  Mr. Andrews answered Captain Wood's knock on the vicarage door.

  “Can I help you?”

  “I hope so. I'm looking for a Miss Cecelia Wood. Her uncle is a vicar in a local parish. I was -.”

  Mr. Andrews rudely spat back, “Never heard of her. I'm sorry.”

  He attempted to shut the door but George's foot was in the way.

  “Are you sure? That was a very hasty answer.”

  The vicar's voice could be heard from inside, “Mr. Andrews, what is it?”

  “Sir, a str
anger. He's requesting information about one of the local parishes.”

  “Bring him inside. Remember what our Lord said about refuge for strangers?”

  Mr. Andrews bristled. This was obviously the man Miss Wood had warned him about, and now his vicar would request that he betray his trust to her. Nonetheless, he opened the door and escorted Captain Wood to his superior.

  “Mr. Andrews, who is this and what does he want?”

  “I- I- didn't get his name.”

  “And yet you were willing to send him off in a brusque and rude manner that was ill-befitting a man of the cloth?”

  “Sir, He was asking me to betray a trust.”

  “Interesting.” The vicar addressed Captain Wood. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “I'm Captain George Wood. I'm trying to find my cousin, Miss Cecelia Wood. She ran away from my household in Bath, and I think she is living with her aunt and uncle. Her uncle is a vicar in the county of Glamorgan, I believe on a place called the Gower.”

  His vicar could see Mr. Andrews swell with a mixture of rage, frustration and impatience.

  “Mr. Andrews, until you can comport yourself with more dignity, you will remain a curate. Now, Captain Wood, my understanding from Mr. Andrews is that Miss Wood's whereabouts are a matter of trust. Isn't that correct?”

  Mr. Andrews replied, “She specifically asked me not to tell anyone where she is. It's a matter of my honor, and the trust a person puts in the discretion of the church.”

  “So you see,” the vicar continued, “we can't properly answer your question, can we?”

  Captain Wood looked at the pair of them. He stared them each in the eyes, as if he were about to start a scene, then he relented. “I see your point. You know where she is, but cannot betray her trust in you. At least that means she's here. I bid you adieu and won't trespass on your time any longer.”

  After Mr. Andrews escorted the Captain out of the vicarage, he returned to the vicar. “Thank you for not forcing me to tell him where she is.”

  “Is she the one you've been visiting?”

  “Yes.”

  “Pretty girl is she?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I wouldn't get your hopes up, Mr. Andrews. This captain is obviously a determined man and one who thinks he is in love with her. He wouldn't have come here if he weren't.”

  “Still Miss Wood is such a spiritual young woman.”

  “Mr. Andrews, a piece of advice. Were it not for your promise to the young lady, I would gladly have told Captain Wood about St Fili's. Deliberately hiding her smacks of deceit, and you know that is a sin. Besides, it's not a good way to start out in married life.”

  “Sir?”

  “Imagine how she'd feel, if after marrying you she found you'd not allowed her to meet her true love?”

  Mr. Andrews was very downcast at this thought. “I suppose you are right.”

  “I wouldn't worry too much about it. It's always possible she can't stand this Captain Wood. I'm sure Mr. Hopwell can handle him if that's the case.”

  “True, and he is standing in the role of guardian isn't her?”

  “Yes he is. No you, him. Remember that. Besides, there's always the diocesan conference in two months. Bound to be some spiritual young women there.”

  “Last year I didn't meet any, not any as pretty as Miss Wood.”

  “We'll have to do something about that. I'll write some letters to my brethren suggesting they bring their daughters to the meeting.”

  “That smacks of pandering.”

  “No. It's not. One of the purposes of the conference is to build the strength of the church. That includes helping to ensure that our clergy set an example to their flocks with loving and friendly marriages. Who better to be a vicar's wife than a vicar's daughter?”

  “The one's I've met tend to be more interested in worldly things than the church.”

  While this discussion was ongoing, Captain Wood returned to Meadows. “She's here, but they won't tell me where she is. I gather she made one of them promise not to.”

  “I'm sorry sir, but it is a start. As the bard says, 'The course of true love doth never run smooth'. He's comparing love to a river with its rocks and turbulent currents..”

  “But I seem to be swimming upstream.”

  “I would not say that sir. We've made progress, however slight. Where now?” They had walked back towards the White Swan while talking.

  “We should check Bevan's bank to see if Miss Wood has used her account. They might let slip a clue to her whereabouts.”

  “Sir, the dog won't be welcome inside the bank, perhaps we should leave her at the inn.”

  “No, you can hold her outside in the street while I check.” They strode off down the high street and immediately ran into trouble. “Meadows?”

  “Sir?”

  “Do you know where this bank is?”

  “Unfortunately not sir. We could inquire one of the locals.”

  “Maybe, but last time I asked anyone about an address here I ended up in gaol.”

  While they were debating this, Heulwen caught a familiar smell. She started barking and pulling on her lead towards a distinguished looking woman in her mid-thirties. While Meadows pulled her away on her lead, Captain Wood stood between Heulwen and the woman. He apologized, “Ma'am, I'm sorry for our dog. She's not used to the city.”

  “I understand. What a pretty dog. Does she have a name?”

  “Heulwen.”

  “Sunshine? What an appropriate name for such a happy beast.”

  “Ma'am, by any chance do you know the way to Bevan's bank?”

  “Yes just the other end of High street from us. Keep going that way and you can't miss it.”

  “Thank you.” Captain Wood bowed and then told Heulwen, “This way! Whatever has gotten into you?” He pulled the dog along. Heulwen kept barking and pulling at the woman until she was out of sight.

  The woman watched them depart, then entered the circulating library. Cecelia looked up from the book she was examining and said, “Aunt Hopwell, what was all that noise about?”

  “I don't know Cecelia, but a gentleman and his servant wanted to know the way to Bevan's. I pointed him in the right direction.”

  “Oh, whatever. I think I'll borrow this book, if I may. I'll have to use your account as mine's full.”

  Her aunt wasn't done with her. “What was the name of your dog?”

  “She wasn't my dog, she was the Captain's and Miss Arnold's. Heulwen. I wonder what's become of her.”

  Her aunt just smiled. She had a pretty good idea that they might find out soon.

  Bevan's correspondent bank in Swansea was even less helpful than the Vicar and Curate of St. Mary's. Unlike in Abergavenny, where Captain Wood of Penyclawdd house was somebody, here in Swansea an unknown Captain Wood from some misbegotten place in the country thirty miles away carried as much weight as the man in the moon. Indeed, the opinion of the man in the moon carried more weight since his abode set the tides and Swansea was a port city.

  As they trudged back towards the White Swan, Captain Wood said to Meadows, “That was useless, wasn't it? I couldn't even put money in her account to see if there was one.”

  “Shall I rouse you early tomorrow to start searching the parishes?”

  “What's the use? She's buried herself so deeply that I'll never find her.”

  “Don't give up hope, sir. I'm sure we will find her.”

  As they passed the entrance of the circulating library, Heulwen went crazy again. She kept barking and pulling.

  “What's got into you, dog?”

  Heulwen sat. Short of picking her up and carrying her away there wasn't much either Meadows or Captain Wood could do.

  “Come on Heulwen. We need to get back to the inn, Tomorrow will be a long day.”

  It didn't matter, Heulwen sat. If they relaxed the tension on the lead, she scooted towards the library.

  George finally realized what Heulwen was doing. “Cece
lia's in there, isn't she?”

  The dog looked at him. She cocked her head to one side, asking something from him. Either that or she was trying to tell him that he was awfully dense for a supposedly intelligent man. Finally, he realized what she wanted, “Come on girl, let's find her.”

  Heulwen dragged George, followed by Meadows to the door of the library. Then once he opened it, she pulled free from his grip, shot in, and dashed around the shelves looking for her mistress. Shrieks could be heard as Heulwen knocked into various patrons.

  The attendant shouted at George, “Dogs are not allowed in here, Sir!”

  Meadows calmly stated, “If you would let me, sir. Heulwen come here!”

  She came to him, and he took the lead. Together George, Meadows and Heulwen approached the attendant. The attendant re-iterated himself, “Would you please remove that animal. Dogs are not allowed here.”

  “In a moment. Is there a Miss Cecelia Wood on your books?”

  “I can't possibly answer that. Now please remove your animal, before I call the watch.”

  Captain Wood pulled a crown from his pocket and idly played with it. The attendant noticed, and said, “Maybe I don't have to call the watch.”

  The Captain pulled another crown from his pocket, and added it to the first. Together they produced a remarkable focusing of the attendant's attention. “I suppose, I could let you look at the books. I don't remember a Miss Wood being a member.”

  The Captain added another crown to the pile and said.

  “She is a tall young woman, with light brown hair. She and her aunt were just in here. Her aunt was maybe into her thirties.”

  “Oh, I remember them. She checked out a volume of Byron's poetry and a light romantic novel. She put it on her aunt's account as hers was already full.”

  “That's Cecelia. Who is her aunt?”

  “I'm sorry, I just do not remember her name. It's been a busy afternoon.”

  “Her aunt is a vicar's wife. Does that help?”

  “Not much. But take a look here.” He pulled out the subscription book and handed it to them. “I'd say there are only a few vicar's wives who have subscriptions. Novels are considered so immoral. Don't see why.”

  It didn't take long to go through the book. There were only a few possibilities, which the Captain read out while Meadows made a list. The ledger suggested the most likely was a Mrs. Hopwell, since her account was used to take out a collection of Byron's poems and one of Mrs. Radcliffe's books that very afternoon.