Catweazle by Carpenter Richard

Author:Carpenter, Richard [Carpenter, Richard]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

THE TELLING BONE

The next morning Ted Wilkins, the verger of St Edmunds, Banden, looked up at the church steeple and saw a man clinging to it about two feet below the weather cock.

He shaded his eyes and peered up at the man.

‘What are you up to?’ he called.

Catweazle, who had spent a miserable night wondering where he was, looked down at the figure in the churchyard and shook with fright.

‘Nothing worksl’ he groaned.

Wilkins, convinced that the whole thing was a practical joke, probably aimed at him, walked slowly over to the vicarage, where he found the vicar, a big smooth-faced man, knocking croquet-hoops into the lawn.

‘There’s a feller on the spire,’ said Wilkins laconically.

‘What’s that, Wilkins?’ said the vicar.

‘On the spire,’ Wilkins repeated patiently. ‘There’s this feller.’

The vicar put down his mallet. What was the man babbling about?

‘Better come,’ said Wilkins darkly. ‘In case he falls.’

The sight of Catweazle hanging on to the spire had already attracted a small group of onlookers. The vicar pushed his way through them.

‘Stand back!’ he commanded. ‘He may be going to jump!’

The group scattered hurriedly.

‘He ain’t going to jump,’ said Wilkins cynically. ‘It’s a publicity stunt if you ask me. Next thing one of these hellycopters will come over and start chuckin’ down packets of cornflakes.’

‘Get a ladder,’ ordered the vicar, ignoring Wilkins’s flight of fancy. ‘I am going up to the belfry.’

‘I’ll get the police,’ said Wilkins.

‘No,’ said the vicar. ‘He’s on my spire and I shall deal with him. The poor man’s obviously demented.’

‘Don’t do anything foolish!’ he shouted up to Catweazle. ‘We must talk this thing over. Whatever you do, don’t jump!’

Catweazle, who had no intention of jumping, gripped the spire desperately. Touchwood poked his head out of his pocket, but, after a quick look, stuck it back in again. Eventually the vicar, helped by Wilkins, managed to get a ladder through the trapdoor of the belfry and lean it against the spire.

While Wilkins supported the base, the vicar, hampered a bit by his long black cassock, climbed shakily up towards Catweazle.

‘Is it trouble with the police?’ he asked.

There was no reply.

‘Financial difficulties?’

Again there was no reply.

‘I mean,’ said the vicar, adopting his best professional manner, ‘whatever the problem is, it can be solved. Helping people is my job, you know.’

The ladder wobbled. In a sudden panic, the vicar looked down at Wilkins. ‘Hold it still, you fool,’ he yelled.

‘You’ll never shift him, Vicar,’ said Wilkins. ‘He’s made up his mind to be awkward.’

‘Salmay, Dalmay, Adonayl’ cried Catweazle. ‘Let me fly!’

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.