‘Set it against the loyalty you owe to the company.’
‘That is what I have done.’
‘On the strength of two days’ acquaintance with a lady?’
‘You sound like Lawrence,’ said Hoode with a chuckle. ‘That rampant satyr had the gall to lecture me on the folly of falling in love so swiftly when he has done so twice a week at times. We’ve both seen him pursue a woman within the very hour that they first meet. At least, I cannot lay that charge at Barnaby’s feet.’ He smiled discreetly. ‘Only a pretty boy with a winsome smile can take his fancy.’
‘We are talking about you, Edmund, not them. Their private lives do not threaten the future of Westfield’s Men. Yours, however, does. All that I ask is that you reflect on your decision before it is too late.’
‘What blandishments has Lawrence told you to offer?’
‘None,’ said Nicholas firmly. ‘I speak on my own account. It would distress me greatly to lose you as a friend and as a fellow. If you have found true love, I wish you every happiness. No man deserves it more. But must it sever your bonds with us? If you flourish onstage when your beloved is in the audience, why not continue to delight her and the other spectators?’
‘Because there is a world elsewhere.’
‘You once thought Westfield’s Men was your whole universe.’
‘It was,’ replied Hoode earnestly. ‘And I leave it with much regret. But I have achieved all that I can within the company. A new life beckons me, with new challenges and fresh delights.’ He looked sad. ‘I see that you censure me, Nick.’
‘You can hardly expect my blessing.’
‘Wherein lies my crime?’
‘You leave us at a time when we most need your talents.’
‘That argument did not carry much weight for you, as I recall.’
‘What?’ said Nicholas, taken aback.
‘It was only yesterday that you threatened to leave the company as well.’
‘Circumstances differed, Edmund.’
‘Did they? I think not. You put loyalty to a friend before your obligations to Westfield’s Men. I have done the same, Nick. The only difference is that my friend also chances to be my future wife.’
‘That is an unfair comparison,’ complained Nicholas.
‘Not in my eyes,’ said Hoode. ‘Lawrence may have thought that you could win me over but he sent the wrong ambassador. We are too alike. Both of us are ready to quit the company in the cause of a greater commitment. Westfield’s Men rely on you just as much as on me, Nick. If treachery is afoot, we are both guilty of it.’
Nicholas had no answer. There was a grain of truth in Hoode’s argument and it left him speechless. He stood aside so that the other man could leave. Nicholas was upset that his persuasive tongue had made no impact on his friend. Hoode had made impulsive decisions before but he could usually be talked out of them. This time, Nicholas sensed, the playwright was beyond the reach of cold reason. He was still brooding on his failure when Lawrence Firethorn came bustling in.
‘I’ve just seen Edmund leave,’ he said. ‘Did you change his mind?’
‘Not entirely,’ admitted Nicholas.
‘But you are our last hope. Did you wrest no concession from him?’
‘Edmund would give none.’
‘Does he still purpose to leave the company?’
Nicholas nodded. ‘I’ll speak to him again. This was not the time or place.’
‘Where and when better?’ asked Firethorn. ‘Edmund has just given a stirring performance in one of his own plays. He has experienced those unparalleled joys that drew him to the theatre in the first place. It should have left him ripe for conversion.’
‘His mind was set against it, I fear.’
‘It is not his mind that Mistress Avice Radley works upon, Nick, but his body. Let him fall into her arms again and Lord Westfield himself could not pull him safely out.’
‘We’ll need to be more subtle in our argument.’
‘No,’ decreed Firethorn. ‘Our survival is at stake. We need to be more brutal.’
Francis Quilter hardly moved from his chosen position throughout the day. Having stationed himself close to the river, he watched a whole array of vessels come and go. None hailed from France and nobody could give him confirmation that the Speedfast, the expected ship, would arrive at all that day. Contrary tides might have held it up across the Channel, other problems might have delayed its departure. Quilter grew increasingly frustrated. As afternoon declined towards evening, his spirits were ebbing slowly away. The arrival of Nicholas Bracewell revived him at once.
‘What news, Frank?’ asked the newcomer.
‘I am heartily sick of looking at the Thames. That is all the news I can offer.’
‘No sign of Master Paramore’s ship, then?’
‘Not so much of a glimpse,’ said Quilter. ‘But I’ll not be moved from this spot. I’ll sit here all night and all day tomorrow, if need be.’
‘I hope it will not come to that.’
After leaving the Queen’s Head, Nicholas had made his way back to the river. He was chastened by his interview with Edmund Hoode. It was painful to be reminded that he too had threatened to abandon the company but the fact had to be acknowledged. Now that he was back with Quilter again, he felt the compassion that led him to make the earlier decision. Fortunately, a way had been found to release the actor while retaining the services of the book holder. No such compromise could be used in Hoode’s case.
‘How did the performance fare?’ wondered Quilter.
‘It courted excellence, Frank.’
‘Who took my role?’
‘James Ingram, though with slightly less success.’
‘I doubt that. James is a fine actor.’
‘Granted,’ said Nicholas, ‘but he was trying too hard. Since Edmund was both author and actor in the piece, James was straining every sinew to impress him. He was not alone. Owen Elias and the others followed his example.’
‘Why should they need to impress Edmund?’
Nicholas told him about the playwright’s ultimatum and one more member of the company was dumbfounded. Though he had not been with them long, Quilter knew how crucial a figure Hoode was to Westfield’s Men. It was inconceivable to him that Hoode should even consider leaving. Nicholas discussed the problem at length, grateful for a subject that took Quilter’s mind away from his father’s fate. As they talked, the sails of a ship were gradually conjured out of the distance. The whole vessel soon appeared, scudding along the water in midstream and forcing them to stop their conversation abruptly. They watched with interest until the Speedfast eventually glided towards the wharf. Quilter was eager to race to the water’s edge but Nicholas held him back.
‘Stay, Frank,’ he said. ‘The ship is not safely moored yet.’
‘I want to be there when he steps ashore.’
‘But you do not even know who he is. Cyril Paramore might walk straight past and you none the wiser. Besides,’ added Nicholas, ‘it is important that he does not realise who you are or he’ll be frightened away.’
‘Only because he has something to hide.’
‘We’ll not find it by accosting him boldly.’
‘How, then, do we proceed, Nick?’
‘As before. You stand apart and let me pick him out.’
‘When you do not recognise his face?’
‘We are not the only ones here to greet the vessel,’ said Nicholas, pointing to the small crowd on the wharf. ‘I’ll lose myself in the press and shout his name aloud as the passengers disembark. That way, he’ll declare himself and I’ll approach him.’
‘Let me go with you.’
‘Watch and wait, Frank. You can judge the fellow from a distance.’
It took skill to bring the Speedfast alongside the wharf to moor it securely. Having spent so much time at sea himself, Nicholas took a keen interest in the way that the crew went about their business. They were agile and well-drilled, responding swiftly to the shouted commands from their bosun. Passengers lined the bulwarks in readiness but Nicholas had no idea which one of them would be Cyril Paramore. Recognising friends and relatives aboard, the crowd on the wharf began to wave and call their welcomes. Nicholas mingled with them and stood behind the tallest man he could find. When the gangplank was lowered, a member of the crew tested it before the passengers were allowed to disembark. The long procession began. Noisy reunions were taking place all around Nicholas. There was only one imminent reunion that caught his attention. It sent him scurrying back to Quilter.