Witness of Bones

by Leonard Tourney

  “He won’t be punished then. If not, there’s no justice,” Joan said.

  “There’s justice,” Cecil said. “But its workings are less simple than we suppose. God deals craftily with evil men. For a little season He turns his face away, seemingly indifferent to their mischief. And so they thrive, swell with pride, engineer a hundred plots, but when the end shall come we shall see and be seen. Every sin will be known and accounted for.”

  Still Matthew was unsatisfied. His resentment at his imprisonment by His Grace would not be appeased. His mind was filled with it and he only half heard Cecil tell him to go home to Chelmsford, enjoy their lives and be at peace. And then he felt Joan touch his arm.

  “Come, Matthew, we must leave Sir Robert to his business. It’s time to go home.”

  She led him off, and looking at her, smiling as she was and happy after her own ordeal, he forgot about Cecil and the nameless plotter who had caused them so much grief, and thought that Poole’s rising from the dead was not half the miracle she was.