Page 170 of The Evening and the Morning

Den protested: “They are my prisoners!”

Wilwulf said: “They are the court’s prisoners. Untie them.”

Den had to give in. He nodded to Wigbert, who undid the ropes.

The two priests looked less guilty now.

Wynstan raised his voice again so that all could hear. “The crime, and the sin, is forgery of the king’s currency.” He pointed straight at Wigbert, who looked startled. “Come forward,” Wynstan said. “Show the court what is in the basket.”

Wigbert looked at Den, who shrugged.

Aldred was mystified. He had expected Wynstan to try to concealthe physical evidence, yet here he was demanding that it be shown. What was he up to? He had made an elaborate pretense of innocence—but now he seemed to be prosecuting himself.

He took the objects out of the basket one by one. “The adulterated metal!” he said dramatically. “The pile. The trussel. The collar. And finally, the coins, half silver, half copper.”

The assembled magnates looked as puzzled as Aldred felt. Why was Wynstan underlining his own wickedness?

“And worse of all,” Wynstan cried, “these belonged to a priest!”

Yes, Aldred thought; they belonged to you.

Then Wynstan pointed dramatically and said: “Cuthbert!”

Everyone looked at Cuthbert.

Wynstan said: “Imagine my surprise—imagine my horror—when I learned that this foul crime was being committed under my very nose!”

Aldred’s mouth dropped open in shock.

There was a stunned silence in the crowd: everyone was astonished. They had all thought Wynstan was the culprit.

Wynstan said: “I should have known. I accuse myself of negligence. A bishop must be vigilant, and I failed.”

Aldred found his voice. He shouted at Wynstan: “But you were the instigator!”

Wynstan said sorrowfully: “Ah—I knew wicked men would try to implicate me. It’s my own fault. I gave them the opening.”

Cuthbert said: “You told me to forge money. I just wanted to make ornaments for the church. You made me do it!” He was crying.

Wynstan maintained his regretful expression. “My son, you think you will make your crime seem less if you pretend you were talked into it by your superiors—”

“I was!”

Wynstan shook his head sadly. “It won’t work. You did what you did. So don’t add perjury to your list of crimes.”

Cuthbert turned to Wilwulf. “I confess,” he said miserably. “I forged pennies. I know I will be punished. But the bishop dreamed up the whole scheme. Don’t let him escape blame.”

Wilwulf said: “Remember that false accusation is a serious matter, Cuthbert.” He turned to Wynstan. “Carry on, bishop.”

Wynstan turned his attention to the assembled magnates, all of whom were watching raptly. “The crime was well hidden,” he said. “Dean Degbert himself did not know what Cuthbert was up to in his little workshop attached to the minster.”

Cuthbert said piteously: “Degbert knew everything!”

Wynstan said: “Step forward, Degbert.”

Degbert did as he was told, and Aldred noted that he was now standing among the magnates, as if one of them, rather than a criminal they had to judge.

Wynstan said: “The dean admits his fault. Like me, he was negligent—but in his case the fault was worse, because he was at the minster every day, whereas I was only an occasional visitor.”