The Well of Lost Plots (Thursday Next 3)

'Although I am now, as you see, maimed,' replied Rochester, 'no better than the old lightning-struck chestnut tree in Thornfield orchard, I am happier than I have ever been. Yes, sir, Miss Next changed the ending, and I thank her every evening for it!'

Hopkins smiled.

'No further questions.'

'Well,' said the Gryphon after the court had been adjourned for the King to consider what form the sentence should take. The Queen, unusually for her, had called for acquittal. The word sounded alien on her lips and everyone stared at her with shock when she said it – Bill the lizard almost choked and had to be slapped on the back.

'The outcome was a foregone conclusion,' said the Gryphon, nodding his respect to Hopkins, who was organising some notes with the White Rabbit, 'but I knew Rochester would put a good show on for you. The King and Queen of Hearts may be the stupidest couple ever to preside over a court, but they are, after all, Hearts, and since you were undeniably guilty, we needed a court to show a bit of compassion when it came to sentencing.'

'Compassion?' I echoed with some surprise. 'With the Queen of "Off with her head"?'

'It's just her little way,' replied the Gryphon. 'She never actually executes anyone. I was just worried for a moment that they might try to hold you on remand until the sentencing, but fortunately the King isn't very up on legal terminology.'

'What do you think I'll get?'

'Do you know,' replied the Gryphon, 'I have absolutely no idea. Time will tell. I'll see you around, Next!'

I made my way slowly back to the Jurisfiction offices, where I found Miss Havisham.

'How did it go?' she asked.

'Guilty as charged.'

'Bad luck. When's the sentencing?'

'Not a clue.'

'Might not be for years, Thursday. I've got something for you.'

She passed me across the report I had written for her regarding Shadow the Sheepdog. I read the mark on the cover, then read it again, then looked at Havisham.

'A++ Hons?' I echoed, incredulously.

'Think I'm being over-generous?' she asked.

'Well, yes,' I said, feeling confused. 'I was forcibly married and then nearly murdered!'

'Marriage by force is not recognised, Next. But bear this in mind: We've given that particular assignment to every new Jurisfiction apprentice for the past thirty-two years and every single one has failed.'

I gaped at her.

'Even Harris Tweed.'

'Tweed was married to Mr Townsperson?'

'Apart from that bit. He didn't even manage to buy the pigs – let alone fool the vet. You did well, Next. Your cause-and-effect technique is good. Needs work, but good.'

'Oh!' I said, kind of relieved, then added after a moment's reflection: 'But I could have been killed!'

'You wouldn't have been killed,' she assured me. 'Jurisfiction has eyes and ears everywhere – we're not that reckless with our apprentices. Your multiple-choice mark was ninety-three per cent. Congratulations. Pending final submissions to the Council of Genres, you're made.'

I thought about this and felt some pride in it, despite knowing in my heart of hearts that this would not be a long appointment – as soon as I could return to the Outland, I would.

'Did you find out anything about Perkins?'

'Nothing,' I replied. 'Any news of Vernham Deane?'

'Vanished without trace. The Bellman's going to talk to us about it.'