“He couldn’t think of anything. And in the end they invented a crime. Someone gave him a jeweled cup and told him he could go. A mile or two away he was arrested, and accused of stealing the cup. They hanged him for it.” She was crying.
“Who did all this?”
“The sheriff of Shiring, the prior of Kingsbridge ... it doesn’t matterwho.”
“What about my father’s family? He must have had parents, brothers and sisters. ...”
“Yes, he had a big family, back in France.”
“Why didn’t he escape, and go back there?”
“He tried, once; and they caught him and brought him back. That was when they put him in the cell. He could have tried again, of course, once we had found out how to get out of here. But he didn’t know the way home, he couldn’t speak a word of English, and he was penniless. His chances were slim. He should have done it anyway, we know now; but at the time we never thought they’d hang him.”
Jack put his arms around her, to comfort her. She was soaking wet and shivering. She needed to get out of here and get dry. He realized, with a shock, that if she could get out, so could he. For a few moments he had almost forgotten about Aliena, as his mother talked about his father; but now he realized that his wish had been granted—he could speak to Aliena before her wedding. “Show me the way out,” he said abruptly.
She sniffed and swallowed her tears. “Hold my arm and I’ll lead you.”
They moved across the cell and then he felt her go down. “Just lower yourself into the channel,” she said. “Take a deep breath and put your head under. Then crawl against the flow. Don’t go with the flow, or you’ll end up in the monks’ latrine. You’ll get short of breath when you’re almost there, but just keep calm and crawl on, and you’ll make it.” She went lower still, and he lost contact.
He found the hole and eased himself down. His feet touched the water almost immediately. When he stood on the bottom of the channel his shoulders were still in the cell. Before lowering himself farther, he found the stone and replaced it in position, thinking mischievously that the monks would be mystified when they found the cell empty.
The water was cold. He took a deep breath, went down on his hands and knees, and crawled against the flow. He went as fast as he could. As he crawled, he pictured the buildings above him. He was going beneath the passageway, then the refectory, the kitchen and the bakehouse. It was not far, but it seemed to take forever. He tried to surface but banged his head on the roof of the tunnel. He felt panicky, and remembered what his mother had said. He was almost there. A few moments later he saw light ahead of him. Dawn must have broken while they were talking in the cell. He crawled until the light was above him, then he stood upright and gasped the fresh air gratefully. When he had got his breath back he climbed out of the ditch.
His mother had changed her clothes. She was wearing a clean, dry dress, and wringing out the wet one. She had brought dry clothes for him too. There in a neat pile on the bank were the garments he had not worn for half a year: a linen shirt, a green wool tunic, gray hose and leather boots. Mother turned her back and Jack threw off the heavy monastic robe, stepped out of the sandals, and quickly dressed in his own clothes.
He threw the monk’s habit into the ditch. He was never going to wear it again.
“What will you do now?” Mother asked.
“Go to Aliena.”
“Right away? It’s early.”
“I can’t wait.”
She nodded. “Be gentle. She’s bruised.”
Jack stooped to kiss her, then impulsively threw his arms around her and hugged her. “You got me out of a prison,” he said, and he laughed. “What a mother!”
She smiled, but her eyes were moist.
He gave her a farewell squeeze and walked away.
Even though it was now full light, there was nobody about because it was Sunday, and people did not have to work, so they took the opportunity to sleep past sunrise. Jack was not sure whether he should be afraid of being seen. Did Prior Philip have the right to come after a runaway novice and force him to return? Even if he had that right, would he want to? Jack did not know. However, Philip was the law in Kingsbridge, and Jack had defied him, so there was bound to be trouble of some kind. However, Jack was looking no farther ahead than the next few moments.
He reached Aliena’s little house. It occurred to him that. Richard might be there. He hoped not. However, there was nothing he could do about it. He went up to the door and tapped on it gently.
He cocked his head and listened. Nothing moved inside. He tapped again, harder, and this time he was rewarded by the sound of rustling straw as someone moved. “Aliena!” he said in a loud whisper.
He heard her come to the door. A frightened voice said: “Yes?”
“Open the door!”
“Who is it?”
“It’s Jack.”
“Jack!”
