‘Seren, stop being Sherlock Holmes and just…’

‘So I deduce that it was written secretly, in a cramped place, with a small blunt pencil by a left-handed man who was very worried. Then there’s the postmark. It might be London.’

‘So…’

‘And this.’ She turned over the note and showed him the edge of the printing on the back. ‘There’s something faint here. I’ve gone over the letters in pen. I had to use a magnifying glass to make them out, but that’s what they say.

The letters looked like a pale ink stamp with some so faint they had vanished away.

ARSHALS A PR S N

Tomos shrugged. ‘It makes no sense.’

Seren tried not to look superior. ‘If you had read Mr Dickens’ novels it would.’

‘I’m going to read them. One day.’

‘Look. If I do this…’ She took out a pencil and, as the cart rattled into the cobbled town, she wrote the letters M, E I and O.

‘Oh!’ Tomos stared. ‘I see!’

Now the words were quite clear.

MARSHALSEA PRISON

‘That’s really clever, Seren. But prison! Does it means he’s done some ghastly murder?’

Seren shook her head. ‘No, silly. The Marshalsea is a place where you go if you can’t pay your debts. Poor Mr Enoch must have run out of money. Maybe that’s why he wrote to his brother.’ She sat back, and then said, ‘There was a sealed letter inside the envelope and I gave it to the Crow. He put on his little spectacles and read it.’

‘What was in it?’

‘I don’t know.’ She frowned. ‘As soon as he’d read it he locked himself in the wardrobe and now he won’t come out. All he says is “Go away, you stupid girl. Leave me alone in my misery and let me die in peace”.’

‘Oh dear,’ Tomos said.

The cart rattled under the arch of the inn yard and stopped.

The pony whickered and blew. Denzil jumped down and stretched.

Lady Mair looked at Tomos and Seren. ‘Now, this is my plan. We will meet back here at the inn for tea at four before we go home. The Captain will ride back with us. He’s already here with Angus. Oh, I do hope Angus wins the big prize!’

Tomos grinned. Angus was the Plas-y-Fran champion bull. ‘He should. He’s enormous!’

‘You never know,’ Denzil muttered darkly, handing Mrs Villiers down. ‘Lot of handsome cattle this year, I hear.’

Seren jumped onto the straw-scattered cobbles. Suddenly all she wanted was to forget her worry about the Crow’s letter and explore the Fair. ‘Can we go? Right now?’

‘Wait.’ Lady Mair took out her purse and gave them a sixpence each. ‘Don’t waste it all on nonsense.’

‘Certainly not,’ Mrs Villiers snapped.

‘And if you want to see me judge the pigs, it will be at three.’ Lady Mair sighed. ‘It’s such an honour and I want to do it well, but I am so nervous! What if I choose the wrong pig and offend some stout farmer!’