"Too late, my dear, he is three fourths signed already, and 'twill be no chore for Timothy here to forge the rest."
Ebenezer looked from one to the other, his features twitching. "Henry! What plot is this? Have you returned to steal these Indian rags, or haply to sport me with more rhymes?"
"There was a weakness in your court order, Mister Cooke," said Sowter, and took one of the several papers from Smith. "Here where't says That the same William Smith shall see to his daughter's marriage at the earliest opportunity, and the rest. St. Winifred's cherry, sir! No man in his senses would marry a whore berid with pox and opium, and belike some rogue of a judge would've hung the order on that clause!"
"But," added Smith, brandishing the contract in his hand, "this paper here mends that hole, I think."
" 'Tis a finer clout than e'er St. Wilfred sewed," Sowter agreed.
"I humbly beg your pardon, Mister Cooke," said Thomas Tayloe. " 'Twas Sowter's notion from the first I should ask ye to take my place. He said 'twas the only price he'd take for me."
"Thou'rt forgiven," Ebenezer said, smiling wildly. "McEvoy sacrified you for his liberty, and you me for your own — whom shall I trade for mine? But dear fellow, they have swived you twice o'er: thou'rt not a freeman yet."
"How is that?" Tayloe demanded.
" 'Twas not necessary to indenture Mr. Cooke," Smith said coolly. "Susan, you and Timothy fetch out the witnesses from the kitchen and get the bridegroom ready; Reverend Sowter will marry ye directly we've shown McEvoy to the servants' quarters."
Tayloe at once set up a furious protest, but the two men led him off. Throughout the conversation Burlingame had remained silent, and his face had been impassive when Ebenezer had addressed him as Henry instead of Timothy; as soon as Smith and Sowter were out of sight, however, his manner changed entirely. He rushed to the chair where Ebenezer sat as if a-swoon and gripped his shoulders.
"Eben! Eben! Dear God, wake up and hear me!"
Ebenezer squinted and turned away. "I cannot bear the sight of you."
"Nay, Eben, listen! I've little time to speak ere they return, and must speak fast: Smith is no common cooper, but an agent of Captain Mitchell's, that is in turn Coode's chief lieutenant! There is a wondrous wicked plot afoot to ruin the Province with pox and opium, the better to overthrow it. Great brothels and opium dens have been established, and Malden's to be the chiefest in this county. All this I learned by posing as Tim Mitchell, whose job it is on some pretext to journey through the counties with fresh stores of opium and to supervise the brothels." Since Ebenezer displayed no apparent interest or belief, Burlingame went on to explain, in an urgent voice, that for some time Captain Mitchell had been scheming with Smith to ruin Ben Spurdance (who had been loyal both to the government and to his employer) in order to gain access to the strategically situated Cooke's Point estate. He, Burlingame, on the other hand, had been seeking ways to subvert their scheme, although it was not until the occasion of Susan's escape (which was, to be sure, designed by Captain Mitchell) that he had known for certain the location of the proposed new brothel and the identity of Mitchell's Dorchester agent.
"And 'twas not till we arrived in Cambridge, and Spurdance sought me out whilst you were strolling elsewhere, that I learned Susan was not loyal to the cause she served. They came to me together, in answer to a secret sign I made whereby our agents know one another, and whilst the Salter case was a-hearing, they told me they had found a way to undo Smith by the terms of his indenture, and had influenced Judge Hammaker to their end. We had the wretch near scotched, by Heav'n, with Susan's testimony — but your judgment, of course, foiled our plan."
Ebenezer still made no reply, but tears ran from his squinted eyes and down the gaunt reaches of his face.
" 'Twas thus I dared show little sympathy for your loss," Henry went on. "I befriended Smith at once and left you stranded in the corncrib to keep you out of danger till I'd left with him for Malden and learnt more of his plans and temper. I thought he'd beat poor Susan to a powder for betraying him, but instead he showed her every courtesy; 'twas not till some minutes past, when Susan told me you were here and I heard from Sowter the tale of John McEvoy and Tom Tayloe, that I saw the scoundrel's plot, and for all my haste we arrived too late to stop you."
"It little matters now," the Laureate said, closing his eyes. "I shall not live to see my father's wrath, in any case."
"Why can I not refuse to have him?" asked Susan, who throughout Burlingame's relation had been sitting tearfully on the floor beside Ebenezer's writing table. " 'Twould foil the contract and greatly please Mr. Cooke, I'm certain."
Burlingame replied that he doubted the former, since the contract would demonstrate to the court that Smith had complied with the marriage order as far as was in his power. "As for the latter, 'tis none of my affair, but I know no other way to care for Eben just now. ."
"It doth not matter to me any farther," said Ebenezer.
"Nay, don't despair!" Burlingame shook him by the shoulders to stir him awake. " 'Tis my opinion you should marry Susan, Eben, and let her nurse you back to health. I know your thoughts, and how you prize your chastity, but — i'faith, there is the answer! Thou'rt obliged to wed, but not to consummate the marriage; when thou'rt well again, and we have found a means to undo William Smith, then Susan can sue for annulment on the grounds thou'rt still a virgin!"
Susan hung her head, but said no more. The voices of Smith and Sowter, laughing together, could be heard in the rear of the house, joined in a moment by the raucous voices of the cardplayers in the kitchen.
"Lookee, Eben," Burlingame said quickly. "I have a pill of Sowter's here in my pocket — he is a physician, for all his knavery. Take it now to tide you through the wedding, and I swear we'll see you master of this house ere the year is out!"
Ebenezer shook off his lethargy enough to groan and cover his face with his hands. "I'Christ, that some god on wires would sweep down and fetch me off! 'Tis a far different course I'd follow, could I begin once more at Locket's wine-house!"
"Look alive, there!" William Smith called cheerily, and strode into the room with Sowter and the three women. "Stand him up, now, Timothy, and let's have an end on't!"
"Marry come up," cried one of the prostitutes, running to Susan, "I love a wedding!"
"Aussi moi," said Grace, "but always I weep." She drew out her handkerchief in anticipation.
"Ye'll have to marry him where he sits," Burlingame told Sowter, using the voice of Timothy Mitchell. "Here, now, Master Bridegroom; chew this pill and make your answers when the time comes. Stand here by your husband, Susie, and hold his hand."
" 'Dslife!" the third prostitute exclaimed with mock alarm. "D'ye think he's man enough to take her head?"
"Curb your wretched tongue," snapped Susan, "ere I tear it from your face!" She grasped Ebenezer's hand and glared at the assemblage. "Get on with it, Richard Sowter, damn your eyes! This man is ill and must be got to bed at once."
The ceremony of marriage commenced. Though he could hear Sowter's voice clearly, and Susan's when she made her sullen responses, Ebenezer could not by any effort contrive to open his eyes, nor could he more than mumble when his turn came to repeat the vows. The pill he chewed was bitter on his tongue, but already, though no more clearheaded than before, he felt somewhat less miserable; indeed, when Sowter said, "I now pronounce ye man and wife," he felt an impulse of sheer lightheartedness.
"Sign the certificate quickly," Smith urged him, "ere ye fall out on the floor."