‘More of a brawl than a riot, then,’ said Northwood, echoing what Drinkwater had said in court. Yes, the viscount had definitely been briefed by someone.
‘Twelve people were brought before the justices,’ Hornbeam said. ‘Alderman Drinkwater presided, and that was where things started to go wrong. First he downgraded the charges from riot to assault. The jury were sensible, and found all twelve guilty. But Drinkwater insisted on light sentences. They were all given a day in the stocks. They’re there now, chatting to passers-by and being brought tankards of ale.’
Riddick added: ‘It makes a joke of justice.’
The earl said: ‘You feel this is serious.’
‘We do,’ said Hornbeam.
‘What do you think should be done?’
Hornbeam took a breath. This was the crucial moment. ‘Alderman Drinkwater is seventy,’ he said. ‘Age is not everything, of course,’ he added hastily, remembering that the earl was in his late fifties. ‘However, Drinkwater has entered that benign phase of maturity in which some men become all-forgiving – an attitude suitable in a grandfather, perhaps, but not the chairman of justices.’
‘Are you asking me to dismiss Drinkwater?’
‘As a justice, yes. Of course he will remain an alderman.’
Northwood put in: ‘I suppose you want to be chairman in Drinkwater’s place, Hornbeam, do you?’
‘I would humbly accept the post if offered.’
Riddick said: ‘Alderman Hornbeam is the obvious choice, my lord. He’s the leading clothier in town and will surely be mayor sooner or later.’
That’s it, thought Hornbeam; that’s our case. Now we’ll see how it’s been received.
The earl looked doubtful. ‘I’m not sure that what you’ve told me justifies dismissal. It’s quite a drastic step.’
Hornbeam had been afraid of this.
Northwood said: ‘Let’s not make a mountain of a molehill. An Englishman is entitled to his opinions, and the Kingsbridge Socratic Society is a debating group. A few bloody noses don’t make a revolution. I don’t believe the society poses the least threat to His Majesty King George or the British constitution.’
Wishful thinking, Hornbeam thought, but he did not dare to say it.
There was a silence. The earl seemed adamant and his son looked pleased with the way the conversation was turning out. Riddick looked baffled. He was no genius, and he had no idea what to do next.
But Hornbeam had a card up his sleeve, or rather in his pocket. ‘I wonder, my lord, whether you have seen a newspaper today.’ Hetook outThe Times. ‘It is reported that the king was stoned by the London mob.’
The earl said: ‘Good gracious!’
Riddick said: ‘I didn’t know that.’
Northwood said: ‘Is this true?’
‘They chanted “Bread and peace”, according to this report.’ Hornbeam unfolded the paper and handed it to the earl.
The earl read a few lines and said: ‘They broke the windows of his carriage!’
‘Perhaps I’m overreacting,’ Hornbeam said disingenuously. ‘But I do think those of us in authority in the land need to take firmer action against agitators and revolutionaries.’
The earl said: ‘I’m beginning to think you’re right.’
Northwood was silent.
Riddick said: ‘Those people are fiends.’
Hornbeam said: ‘This is how revolutions begin, isn’t it? Subversive ideas lead to violence, and violence escalates.’
‘You may be right,’ said the earl.
