‘You are gross, Lawrence!’ retorted the other.
‘Then it was not you?’
Gill rose from his seat with dignity and excused himself.
‘You put him to flight, Lawrence,’ said Hoode.
‘He would not have stayed much longer, Edmund. He has been sitting on coals since we arrived. Barnaby has an assignation. That is why he was so eager to quit our company.’
‘An assignation or an invitation?’ wondered Nicholas.
‘What do you mean?’
‘We are still under threat here. Lucius Kindell has already been snared and others in the company approached and blandished.’
‘Nobody has offered me blandishments,’ said Firethorn.
‘Nobody would dare,’ remarked Pryde.
‘Master Gill is an easier target,’ argued Nicholas. ‘I know for a fact that both Banbury’s Men and Havelock’s Men covet him. Since word of The Angel went abroad, they may redouble their efforts to entice him away.’
‘He has a contract with us, Nick,’ said Hoode.
‘We had a contract with the landlord but we are about to be in breach of it if we leave the Queen’s Head.’
‘Barnaby will not leave,’ said Firethorn. ‘He will rant and rave at us but he would never betray us.’
‘Has he confided to you any approaches from our rivals?’
‘No, Nick.’
‘Is not that a form of betrayal?’
‘Only if those approaches took place. My guess is that they did not,’ decided Firethorn. ‘Barnaby is never at ease with red-blooded fellows like us. His pleasures lie elsewhere and I believe he has gone off in search of them.’
Nicholas did not pursue the subject but he had noticed warning signs about Gill’s behaviour which suggested that his commitment to Westfield’s Men was not as absolute as it might have been. It caused him concern. The Angel theatre would be a lesser auditorium without Barnaby Gill to grace its boards.
Pryde was more interested in Rose Marwood’s fate.
‘What has happened to the poor girl?’ he asked.
‘She is kept under lock and key,’ said Nicholas. ‘They have even put a bolt on her window or so Leonard tells me.’
‘How would he know?’ said a jocular Firethorn. ‘Was he in the girl’s bedchamber at the time? That would be a revelation! The lumbering Leonard as the father of her child. Procreation must surely have taken place with the girl astride him for she would else have been suffocated beneath that monstrous body.’
‘Leonard is a good friend to her,’ said Nicholas. ‘No more. I will miss him when we leave here. That bullish strength of his was put at our disposal many times.’
‘Yes,’ said Hoode, ‘I have seen him lift a barrel of beer on his own when its weight would defeat two other men.’
‘It is a pity that he cannot be employed on the site of The Angel,’ said Pryde. ‘Leonard’s muscles are an asset that none of us could provide.’
A cheer went up from a nearby table and Pryde turned to see Owen Elias beckoning him over to join them. Half-a-dozen grinning faces endorsed the invitation.
‘Go on, Sylvester,’ said Firethorn easily. ‘It is their turn to enjoy your company. You are common property now, my friend, and must be shared equally among us all.’
‘Then I take my leave,’ said Pryde courteously.
A yell of delight went up as he crossed to the others and room was immediately made for him on the settle. Elias put a proprietary arm around him and ordered him a drink. Pryde was soon at the centre of the merriest table in the taproom. Firethorn watched with approval then turned to Nicholas.
‘You were right, Nick,’ he said seriously. ‘I did not wish to discuss it in front of Sylvester. He has rendered us a sterling service but we do not have to draw him too close into our affairs. There is still a whiff of mystery about him which I find disturbing.’
‘Mystery?’ echoed Nicholas.
‘We know so little about him.’
‘He found us that money,’ noted Hoode. ‘What else do we need to know, Lawrence?’
‘The name of our guardian angel, for a start.’
‘Sylvester is sworn to secrecy.’
‘That is what irks me,’ admitted Firethorn, ‘but I will bear my irritation. Let us go back to Nick’s comment. I think it was accurate. Barnaby is being courted.’
‘By whom?’ said Hoode anxiously.
‘By Banbury’s Men, by Havelock’s Men or by one of the other companies. Does it matter? All that need concern us is that he is their chosen target.’
‘How do you know, Lawrence?’
‘He has been strangely silent of late.’
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas, ‘and, alone of our fellows, he has shown scant enthusiasm for The Angel. It is almost as if he believes that he will never play there.’
‘But he must,’ insisted Hoode. ‘He is one of us.’
‘And will remain so,’ said Firethorn. ‘Barnaby and I have our differences but I am all too aware of his contribution to our work. We would be impoverished by his absence. Keep a close eye on him, Nick.’
‘That is what I have been doing,’ confessed Nicholas. ‘I saw how uncomfortable he was at this table. He kept glancing up as if expecting to meet someone else here. I think that he has doubts about The Angel. Even if it is built, we may still find ourselves without an occupation.’
‘In London, perhaps,’ conceded Firethorn, ‘but we need not vanish into thin air. Westfield’s Men can still tour.’
‘Not with Barnaby,’ said Hoode gloomily. ‘You know how much he loathes life on the road. If he had to choose between a tour with us and a London playhouse, our hopes of keeping him would be slim.’
Firethorn sighed. ‘What is the remedy, Nick?’
‘We have to convince him that his interests are best served by Westfield’s Men,’ said Nicholas. ‘We have to build The Angel and turn it into the most exciting playhouse in London. Then he will never even think of leaving us.’
Sylvester Pryde remained at the Queen’s Head for most of the evening, moving from table to table to receive congratulations from all his fellows, carousing until the wine began to make him feel slightly drowsy. Pleading the need of some fresh air, he waved a general farewell then came out into Gracechurch Street and swung right towards the river. Pryde sauntered along in the cool night air with a grin of satisfaction on his face. He was not only accepted by his colleagues now. He was positively feted.
When London Bridge loomed up ahead of him, he walked on until he reached Thames Street then turned right. His legs were taking him where his heart wanted them to go. Minutes later he was standing at the river’s edge, staring out across the broad stretch of water at the site of The Angel theatre. Pryde could see it rising boldly on the opposite bank, soaring above the buildings around it and advertising itself by its very ascendancy. He was immensely proud to have been able to instigate the building of the new playhouse and took an almost paternal joy in it.
‘Boat, sir?’ called a hoarse voice.
‘What’s that?’ said Pryde, coming out of his reverie.
‘Do you want to cross the river?’
‘Why, yes,’ he decided impulsively. ‘Take me over, good sir. I want to view a property on the other side.’
‘Come aboard.’
There were two watermen in the little vessel and they rowed with an easy rhythm. Pryde sat in the stern, his eyes fixed on the abandoned boatyard that would soon disappear beneath the foundations of his theatre, his mind filled with imagined triumphs for the company. It never occurred to him that he was being followed by someone in a second boat.
When he reached the other bank, he tipped the watermen handsomely and went ashore. He was soon picking his way in the half-dark around the site of The Angel. It was still largely covered with debris and there was little progress to note but Pryde still felt exhilarated by the experience. As he stood in the centre of the property, he could almost see the many sides of the theatre rising up around him and hear the applause that reverberated around its walls.