‘When will you tell them, Lawrence?’ asked Gill.
‘I hope that we may never have to do so.’
‘The other sharers deserve to know the truth.’
‘They have known the truth about Lord Westfield for long enough,’ said Firethorn. ‘Our patron is a pleasure-seeker, a man so riddled with bad debts that, were he a vessel, he’d have sunk to the bed of the ocean by now.’
‘The likelihood is that he will take the rest of us with him.’
‘Not if Nick Bracewell’s plan has worked.’
‘It is too risky.’
‘We did our share, Barnaby. We traduced that despicable moneylender, as we were bid. If the fellow was in the gallery, his ears would have been burnt off with shame. Edmund was a most slimy Sir Eliard.’
‘And that’s the other thing, Lawrence.’
‘What is?’
‘Nicholas may save us from bankruptcy but even he cannot keep Edmund.’
‘No,’ sighed Firethorn. ‘We must resign ourselves to his loss.’
Gill pulled a face. ‘Then we head for the wilderness.’
Alexander Marwood emerged from the crowd to push his emaciated face at them. Pallid and wasted, he looked as if he had risen from his deathbed to haunt them. He wagged a skeletal finger with indignation.
‘You’ll bring the law down around my ears,’ he complained.
‘Then sell finer wine and better ale,’ said Firethorn.
‘I speak of your play, sir. It was an outrage.’
‘Did you see it?’
‘No, Master Firethorn. I never watch your performances. Plays are an abomination. When I lay sick in bed, I was forced to listen to some of them and that was enough of an ordeal. Now you inflict this new threat on me.’
‘What threat?’ asked Gill.
‘Prosecution.’
Firethorn snorted. ‘You should have been prosecuted for ugliness years ago.’
‘Everyone is talking of the way that you mocked Sir Eliard Slaney today.’
‘It was no more than the rogue deserved.’
‘That’s as maybe,’ said Marwood, ‘but he is a powerful man. Nobody with any sense dares to cross Sir Eliard or they will suffer for it. When he hears what you’ve done, he’ll bring an action against the company for seditious libel. Since you perform in my yard, papers will be served on me as well.’
‘Prison is the best place for you.’
‘Do not sneer, Master Firethorn. I’ll demand restitution.’
‘Demand all you will,’ said Firethorn. ‘You’ll not get a penny for us.’
‘The Queen’s Head must not suffer.’
‘It has been suffering since the day you became its landlord.’
‘Bah!’
Marwood turned on his heel and scuttled off, muttering loudly. Firethorn and Hoode were even more subdued now. Threatened by the loss of their playwright and the disappearance of their patron, they had Marwood’s unending laments to cope with as well. They were just about to sink into a deeper misery when Edmund Hoode arrived.
‘What?’ he said affably. ‘Sitting apart from your fellows?’
‘Barnaby and I had business to discuss,’ said Firethorn.
‘Is there room at your table for me?’
‘For the few days that you are here,’ said Gill maliciously. ‘Though I am not sure that I wish to drink with a man who has treated us so harshly.’
‘Did I treat you harshly on that stage today?’ asked Hoode.
Gill was honest. ‘No, you did not, Edmund. You were supreme.’
‘You are honoured,’ said Firethorn. ‘Barnaby would never confess that of me.’
‘I never have good cause to admit your superiority.’
‘You have it every time we tread the boards together.’
‘Then why I have never noticed it, Lawrence?’
Hoode laughed. ‘Shame on the pair of you! I am back with you for two seconds and you fall to quarrelling. I swear I’ve never heard you agree about anything.’
‘We agree about you betrayal,’ retorted Gill.
‘Barnaby is right,’ said Firethorn seriously. ‘We are of the same mind there.’
‘And would this unprecedented harmony remain if I came back?’ said Hoode.
‘Do not tease us, Edmund. You’ve made your decision clear.’
‘It has been changed.’
Firethorn was startled. ‘By whom?’
‘By me, Lawrence.’
‘Not by Mistress Radley?’
‘No,’ said Hoode. ‘I thought that Avice was responsible until I saw that I had decided for myself. I provoked her. In making those alterations to The Merchant of Calais, I so offended her that she dismissed me from her house. I am rejected.’
‘So you come crawling back to us, do you?’ said Gill.
‘I never really left you, Barnaby. Do you not see? When the company’s future was in the balance, what did I choose? A life of idle luxury in the country or the exigencies of the playhouse? Without knowing it,’ he explained, ‘I put the company first. In doing what I did this afternoon, I knew that I would estrange a woman whom I loved. It was almost as if I willingly divorced Avice from my heart.’
‘Do you really wish to stay with us, Edmund?’ asked a delighted Firethorn.
‘If you will have me.’
‘Only if you bind yourself to us more firmly this time.’ warned Gill.
‘Impose no conditions on him, Barnaby,’ said Firethorn, rising to embrace the playwright. ‘Edmund has come home. This is the best news we’ve had since the landlord was taken sick. Our playwright is not only back, he has been rejected by a woman yet again. In short, he is the Edmund Hoode that we know and love.’
‘Rejected I may be,’ said Hoode, ‘but not abashed. That is the wonder of it. Lesser women have thrown me aside and left me in the pit of despondency. But this repulse brings nothing but relief. Avice sought a perfection that I could never attain and who would share his days with a wife who will always be disappointed in him? This is my true home,’ he went on, gazing around the taproom. ‘I am never happier than when I am with my fellows. In the name of Lord Westfield, I vow to march on.’
Gill was pessimistic. ‘If, that is, we are allowed to march anywhere.’
‘True,’ said Firethorn. ‘Our future is still in doubt.’
‘Is there no hope of redemption?’ asked Hoode.
‘Yes, Edmund. His name is Nick Bracewell.’
The capitulation of Bevis Millburne made things much easier for them. When they dragged him in front of Justice Haygarth, the magistrate could only splutter impotently. He was questioned relentlessly by Nicholas Bracewell, threatened by a bellicose Owen Elias and forced to defend his actions in front of the man whose father he had conspired to send to his death. With a gibbering Millburne before him, Haygarth soon gave up all pretence of being able to defend his actions. He admitted that he had suborned Justice Froggatt with money given to him by Sir Eliard Slaney and furnished them with fresh details of the moneylender’s villainy. Nicholas and his friends took the two men before a trustworthy magistrate and both culprits made full statements about their part in the conspiracy. Grateful to the self-appointed constables, the magistrate was especially pleased to be able to dispatch Adam Haygarth into custody, telling him that those who manipulated the law for their own selfish ends deserved to suffer its worst torments.
‘Where now, Nick?’ asked Elias, keen for more action.
‘I think we shall pay a visit to Master Paramore,’ said Nicholas.
‘Will he confess as easily as the others?’
‘No, Owen. He’s made a sterner stuff. He’ll deny everything.’
‘Good,’ said Elias. ‘I’ll have the pleasure of jogging his memory.’
‘So will I,’ added Quilter.
They hurried through the streets towards Paramore’s house, suffused with joy at the notion of being able to expose such a gross miscarriage of justice. It looked as if the stigma would be at last lifted from the name of Quilter. Enthusiasm lent wings to their heels. However, they met with resistance this time. Millburne and Haygarth had been caught off guard and compelled to admit everything. That was not the case with Cyril Paramore. Having witnessed the grisly scene at the house in Bishopsgate, he knew the danger he was in and was taking steps to avoid it. When the three friends arrived at the house, Paramore was mounting his horse to flee the city.