Tuesday 19th August 1808

Dear Diary,
Such a day of changes....
Firstly news came, this morning, from Mrs Norris to say that all was not ready for my visit due to unavoidable circumstances and that it appeared that I would not be called to Far Corfe before the weekend. How intriguing! Mother did not seem too upset by the news but would not elaborate on what the delay could mean.
I have resolved to venture north again and am to Edinburgh on Thursday for further thespic festivities. I shall not force my Python to make the journey again and have made arrangements to travel by carriage. I did take him out for some exercise this afternoon, however and we fairly galloped into Cobbler's Bottom.
The village was fairly quiet and I asked the lovely Sam if I could tether my Python to his pole while I wandered for awhile. He nodded manfully and gave me a wink that sent a shiver right down to my coccyx. My mouth suddenly felt dry and so I walked to the inn for some refreshment. All eyes turned upon me as I entered and the chatter stopped but unbowed I called the host over and asked for some tea. Talk resumed and I eavesdropped eager to pick up some gossip. All seemed fairly dull; old Mr Bummer had had another accident. It seems he had gone to the lavatory in that very inn and had only been inside a few moments when he tumbled out with his breeches round his ankles. He had sat down and realised he had not fastened the door and leaned over to fasten it and lost his balance. He had badly cut an eyebrow but had not broken any bones which was unusually lucky for him.
My tea arrived and I was just stirring it when I heard someone mention 'Helen Back'. They were none too complimentary about her, and described her in terms I cannot repeat here. It seems that she has some coloured history, was not welcome in the village and that her sister would turn in her grave if she knew she was benefitting from her death. I discovered she was due to depart on the late afternoon coach.
I left my tea.
"Leaving so soon, Sir?" called the host.
"Yes, I'm sorry. I have business to attend to." I tossed him some coins and stepped out.
Betty Tert's run down house seemed empty and I could see no one about. I cautiously crept around the back and heard voices in the yard. Helen had Willy by the throat up against the wall and was threatening him with a sound beating if he did not tell her where his mother's wedding band was. Willy was terrified and sobbing but remained tightlipped. Helen raised her hand to strike him and I stepped out.
"Unhand my Willy, you obnoxious...." I was searching for a suitable word to show my utter disdain, when Willy cried out; "Fockwet!"
"Indeed!" I agreed, "Well said that man!"
Willy kicked her shin hard and she cried out and let him go and he ran and threw his arms about me.
I curled an arm about him and drew him in protectively.
"Now you listen to me, you...."
"Fockwet!" added Willy helpfully.
"Yes," I went on, "If I ever see you around here again I'll have you strung up. Take whatever you want but the boy is coming with me."
I was quite the hero back at the Grange after we told our story, but we had agreed on the way back to leave out some of the vocabulary we used. Jane actually kissed me and hugged me as hard as I have ever remember being hugged.
Just before his bedtime Willy knocked upon my chamber door and slipped in. He stepped forward and held out his hand and in it lay a simple gold band.
"For you," he said.
"Willy," I smiled, " I am a man who appreciates a fine ring but it would be very wrong of me to accept yours."