see no way out of her dilemma. Beautiful, resourceful, and formidable though she was, she was doomed to spend the rest of her days hiding in the forest with her weird son.
Agnes, Martha and Alfred came back. Tom gazed anxiously at Martha, but she looked as if the worst thing that had ever happened to her was having her face scrubbed. For a while Tom had been absorbed in Ellen's problems, but now he remembered his own plight: he was out of work and his pig had been stolen. The afternoon was wearing on. He began to pick up their remaining possessions.
Ellen said: "Where are you headed?"
"Winchester," Tom told her. Winchester had a castle, a palace, several monasteries, and-most important of all-a cathedral.
"Salisbury is closer," Ellen said. "And last time I was there, they were rebuilding the cathedral-making it bigger."
Tom's heart leaped. This was what he was looking for. If only he could get a job on a cathedral building project he believed he had the ability to become master builder eventually. "Which way is Salisbury?" he said eagerly.
"Back the way you came, for three or four miles. Do you remember a fork in the road, where you went left?"
"Yes-by a pond of foul water."
"That's it. The right fork leads to Salisbury."
They took their leave. Agnes had not liked Ellen, but managed nevertheless to say graciously: "Thank you for helping me take care of Martha."
Ellen smiled and looked wistful as they left.
When they had walked along the road for a few minutes Tom looked back. Ellen was still watching them, standing in the road with her legs apart, shading her eyes with her hand, the peculiar boy standing beside her. Tom waved, and she waved back.
"An interesting woman," he said to Agnes.
Agnes said nothing.
Alfred said: "That boy was strange."
They walked into the low autumn sun. Tom wondered what Salisbury was like: he had never been there. He felt excited. Of course, his dream was to build a new cathedral from the ground up, but that almost never happened: it was much more common to find an old building being improved or extended, or partly rebuilt. But that would be good enough for him, as long as it offered the prospect of building to his own designs eventually.
Martha said: "Why did the man hit me?"
"Because he wanted to steal our pig," Agnes told her.
"He should get his own pig," Martha said indignantly, as if she had only just realized that the outlaw had done something wrong.
Ellen's problem would have been solved if she had had a craft, Tom reflected. A mason, a carpenter, a weaver or a tanner would not have found himself in her position. He could always go to a town and look for work. There were a few craftswomen, but they were generally the wives or widows of craftsmen. "What she needs," Tom said aloud, "is a husband."
Agnes said crisply: "Well, she can't have mine."
III
The day they lost the pig was also the last day of mild weather. They spent that night in a barn, and when they came out in the morning the sky was the color of a lead roof, and there was a cold wind with gusts of driving rain. They unbundled their cloaks of thick, felted cloth and put them on, fastening them tight under their chins and pulling the hoods well forward to keep the rain off their faces. They set off in a grim mood, four gloomy ghosts in a rainstorm, their wooden clogs splashing along the puddled, muddy road.
Tom wondered what Salisbury cathedral would be like. A cathedral was a church like any other, in principle: it was simply the church where the bishop had his throne. But in practice cathedral churches were the biggest, richest, grandest and most elaborate. A cathedral was rarely a tunnel with windows. Most were three tunnels, a tall one flanked by two smaller ones in a head-and-shoulders shape, forming a nave with side aisles. The side walls of the central tunnel were reduced to two lines of pillars linked by arches, forming an arcade. The aisles were used for processions-which could be spectacular in cathedral churches-and might also provide space for small side chapels dedicated to particular saints, which attracted important extra donations. Cathedrals were the most costly buildings in the world, far more so than palaces or castles, and they had to earn their keep.
Salisbury was closer than Tom had thought. Around mid-morning they crested a rise, and found the road falling away gently