Chapter Ten
It was no time for hesitation. In trying to struggle free, Barnaby Gill was in grave danger of turning over the boat and, although there were a few curious onlookers on both banks of the creek, none of them seemed inclined to go to the rescue of the man in the sack. Nicholas Bracewell did not pause to goggle at the strange sight. Peeling off his jerkin, he dived into the water and swam powerfully towards the boat. As if suddenly awakened to the peril of the situation, the people watching shouted encouragement to Nicholas and urged the occupant of the boat to stop rocking it. Even if he heard it, Gill paid no attention the advice, twisting and turning in a futile attempt to get free and making the boat rock so much that it began to take in water. When Nicholas reached it, the vessel was bobbing about wildly. He took a firm grip on the stern and gave his command.
‘Sit still!’ he yelled. ‘You’ll turn the boat over.’
Recognising his voice, Gill obeyed at once and stopped moving. The boat ceased to rock so violently but it dipped towards the stern as Nicholas hauled himself aboard. Water dripped off him in rivulets. Spreading his feet to maintain his balance, he used his dagger to slit through the rope and through the gag that had silenced Gill so effectively. Nicholas lifted the sack carefully up to reveal a man on the verge of collapse. Wide-eyed and red in the face, Gill was too shaken even to speak. He blubbered incoherently. Nicholas put a comforting arm around him and assured him that he was now safe. Gill slowly calmed down.
The boat was still drifting downriver. When he was satisfied that his passenger was not seriously hurt, Nicholas slid the oars out from under the wheelbarrow and fitted them into their rowlocks. He soon established control over the vessel and was able to turn it around and row back in the direction of the Blue Anchor. Soaked to the skin, he ignored his own discomfort in favour of Gill’s needs. The man was deeply shocked. It was important to get him back on dry land where he could recover from his ordeal. To his credit, Gill’s first words expressed his gratitude.
‘Thank you, Nicholas,’ he said, still shivering with fright. ‘You saved my life.’
‘We’ll soon be ashore.’
‘I might have ended up in the water and drowned.’
‘That was my fear,’ said Nicholas. ‘I thank God that I reached you in time.’
‘I’ve never known such horror.’
‘Who did this to you?’
‘Who else?’ sneered Gill. ‘Giddy Mussett.’
‘Can you be certain?’
‘As certain as I am of anything.’
‘Did you see Giddy?’
‘I had no time to see anyone,’ complained Gill. ‘The rogue came up behind me and threw that sack over my head. What they kept in it, I know not but it had a foul smell. Before I could resist, I was tied and gagged then wheeled out of my room.’
‘By one person?’ asked Nicholas. ‘Or was someone else involved?’
‘I only heard one pair of feet.’
‘And you think they belonged to Giddy?’
‘I know that they did, Nicholas! He tried to kill me.’
‘I beg leave to doubt that.’
‘You saw the way I was trussed up,’ said Gill, pointing to the rope. ‘Once in the water, there would have been no hope for me. He wanted me to drown.’
‘It looks as if someone may have had that intention,’ conceded Nicholas.
‘Yes — Giddy Mussett.’
‘But I left Edmund and Owen to watch over him.’
‘Then they failed in their duty.’
‘I find that hard to believe. Giddy might elude one pair of eyes, but not two.’
‘I want him arrested.’
‘We need proof that he was the culprit first.’
‘He is Giddy Mussett,’ cried Gill, ‘and that is all the proof that you need. I want him arrested, Nicholas. Arrested and charged with attempted murder!’
By the time that the two of them reached the jetty, a small crowd had gathered. There was a smattering of applause for Nicholas and some shouts of congratulation. He had displayed true bravery in rescuing Gill from his plight. Willing hands helped to steady the boat and moor it to an iron ring. The wheelbarrow was too heavy to lift with its occupant in place so Gill had to be eased gently ashore by Nicholas. When the wheelbarrow was pulled out of the boat, Gill was still so jangled that he agreed without protest to get back into it. Someone had brought the jerkin that had been discarded on the bank. After thanking the man for returning it to him, Nicholas put it around Gill’s shoulders before wheeling him off. He squelched his way towards the Blue Anchor.
As they approached the inn, they were seen from the window and several members of the company came rushing out to meet them. When he noted that Mussett was among them, Gill went berserk, pointing a finger and screeching abuse. For his part, Mussett was a picture of innocence. Lawrence Firethorn was the first to step forward.
‘What happened, Nick?’ he asked.
‘Giddy set me adrift in a boat,’ replied Gill, shaking a fist at his rival. ‘If Nicholas had not come to my aid, I would surely have drowned.’
Firethorn turned on Mussett. ‘Is this true?’ he growled.
‘No,’ said Mussett. ‘On my honour.’
‘You have no honour,’ snarled Gill.
Nicholas took control. ‘There is no point in arguing out here,’ he said. ‘Master Gill has been through a harrowing experience and needs rest. Take him to his room, George, and fetch some wine to soothe him.’
‘All that will soothe me is the sight of Giddy, hanging from the nearest tree!’
‘Do as I say, George.’
‘Yes,’ said Dart, grabbing the handles of the wheelbarrow to push it away.
‘Look at the state of you, Nick,’ said Firethorn.
‘Someone had to dive in.’
‘Change into dry clothing and we’ll hear the full story.’
‘I long to hear it myself,’ said Nicholas, throwing a suspicious glance at Mussett. ‘I sincerely hope that the tale does not involve you, Giddy.’
Mussett was defensive. ‘This is the first I’ve heard of Barnaby’s ordeal,’ he said. His face split into a grin. ‘But I tell you this. Had I known what straits he was in, I’d have come out here to enjoy watching him.’
‘No more of that talk!’ snapped Firethorn, grabbing him by the throat. ‘Barnaby is in great distress. If I find that you had a hand in it, I’ll be judge, jury and executioner. Do you understand, Giddy?’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘Then hold your peace.’
Firethorn pushed him away then walked back towards the inn with Nicholas and the others. Ten minutes later, the book holder had dried himself off, changed into fresh attire and joined the actor-manager in his room. Giddy Mussett was also there along with a crestfallen Edmund Hoode and an embarrassed Owen Elias. Having failed to frighten a confession out of him, Firethorn stopped trying to browbeat Mussett.
‘You talk to him, Nick,’ he said with exasperation, ‘and I hope you have more success than I did. I can get nothing from Giddy. It’s easier to get blood from a stone.’
Mussett hunched his shoulders. ‘I never touched Barnaby.’
‘We’ll look into that in a moment,’ said Nicholas. ‘First, I want to hear from Edmund and Owen. They were meant to keep you where they could see you.’ He looked at the pair of them. ‘Is that not what happened?’