'I cannot give you any hope in the matter, Mr Perrott,' Renzi snapped, angry at himself for allowing sentiment to cloud his reason. He left Perrott at the door of the ale-house staring after him and his anger turned to self-contempt — the very least he should have done was leave him with a pot of beer.
By degrees his depression turned black. The beauty of the summer evening was in sharp contrast to his mood and he felt a need to allow its languorous warmth to enter him without the distraction of others. The high street ran steeply down to the river Wey; along its pleasant banks was a path overhung with willows. He walked slowly there, thinking of nothing, letting his soul empty of its gross humours. Insects circled in clouds in the stillness, individually gilded by the setting sun; a flock of ducks paddled lazily along.
He had his solitude; by the first bend of the river he was feeling better, and around the curve, with something approaching equanimity, he was able to smile at the sight of a woman on a footbridge upbraiding two children. The two small boys were quite out of hand, shouting across at each other from either bank. The mother's voice shrilled in vexation.
Renzi had it in mind to cross the footbridge and return by the other bank, and mounted the bridge. The woman saw him and grew flustered. 'Oh! I do declare, these infants are impossible.' Renzi did not reply, but bowed civilly. Encouraged, the woman continued, 'I am truly at a stand, sir. These — these monsters are trying my patience sorely.'
The bigger of the two boys looked at him speculatively, then quickly returned to his baiting of the smaller. 'Young people today are so dreadfully ill-mannered,' the woman continued, 'and since my dear husband requires to spend so much of his time in London, in his absence they are quite unbiddable. I am vexed to know just what to do in the matter of discipline.'
Nodding pleasantly, Renzi let the woman pass, and began his return by the other bank. He would not allow Kydd to discover his mood, and deliberately put aside thoughts of his friend's fate.
He had not gone more than a few yards when an idea formed, grew, and burst into expression. It was merely an idle thought, but it developed swiftly — and with what possibilities! His depression lifted instantly and he found it difficult to sleep that night.
Early in the morning Renzi mysteriously excused himself and vanished into town on undisclosed business. He was back at noon, and lost no time in finding Kydd. 'I'd be obliged to you, should you spare me the odd hour, Tom,' he said, with peculiar intensity.
They passed to the left of Holy Trinity church, up past the glebe cottages to the open fields beyond. Here, at Renzi's urging, they turned down the dusty lane to the slate-covered buildings at the end. 'Take a look, Tom.'
Cautiously picking their way over the rubbish in the small courtyard they entered the main structure. It was sturdily built of stone, but decay had allowed the roof timbers to give way and they lay in ruins inside. Nettles populated the rubble.
Kydd looked doubtfully at Renzi's wild expression, but held his tongue.
'There! You see in front of you the fruit of an enlightened intellect.'
Mystified, Kydd tried to make sense of Renzi's ramblings.
Renzi continued, 'Two disparate thoughts, leading inescapably to a fine conclusion — to a practical conclusion such as you will bless me for.'
Fearing for his friend's sanity, Kydd took Renzi's arm.
'No! You don't understand,' Renzi said, pulling away. His eyes shone. 'Here we have it. A solution — I have the school building, I have the schoolmaster, we want but resolve.'
The chance meeting with the woman and her children had given Renzi an idea. He had returned to the bookshop and approached the one-legged assistant and determined he was essentially free for other employment. Adding the other side of the equation, Renzi explained, 'Your revered father need fear no loss of visual precision as a schoolmaster, it is not needed, but the worthy citizens of Guildford need a school for their infants that accentuates discipline in these tumultuous times.'
He smiled happily. 'So we establish a school on naval lines - a captain assisted by a strict bo'sun and capable quartermaster. You see, your father will be the principal, your dear self as his assistant and your mother to provide for the infants. And we have a bo'sun with a wooden leg who shall rule all aboard with silver call and cane, showing neither fear nor favour to any.'
Touched by his friend's thoughtfulness and privately reserving judgement as to his suitability as a schoolmaster, Kydd suppressed a stab of excitement at the stability and hope that the plan promised. Affecting reluctance, he growled, 'An' the money? What kind o' plan is it without a pot o' money at the back of it?'
Renzi had plans for this, too. 'You will tell me that Guildford is a strange town, a wicked place that does not give a fair price for a desirable shop in the high street, and places wild value on a pile of stones high and dry away from passing trade.' He feigned dejection, and said, 'So I am undone, my plan is worthless. Let's return to the Red Lion and console ourselves in drink.'