Edward Marston - The Vagabond Clown

‘The story moved me,’ she said. ‘That is all.’

‘Which story?’

‘That which touched on the murder of Thomas Arden.’

‘No,’ said Nicholas, watching her closely. ‘I fancy that it was another murder that produced those tears. Thomas Arden was more than a former mayor of the town. After the Dissolution of the Monasteries, he was involved in the distribution of Catholic property that had been confiscated. Abbey Street no longer has a Catholic abbey, does it? You regard that as a heinous crime.’

Thomasina was dismissive. ‘That all happened before I was even born.’

‘But not before your father was born. He’d have brought you up in his religion.’

‘Discuss the matter with him when he returns.’

‘Oh, we’ve much more than that to discuss with him,’ said Nicholas. ‘But let’s come back to The Foolish Friar . It was bold of you to attend a play that you knew would mock the Old Religion. That’s why you were so perturbed. Your father hid his feelings because he has had more practise in doing so. Your displeasure showed in your face. You hated a play that held Roman Catholicism up to ridicule.’

‘I found it rather barren beside Cupid’s Folly ,’ she confessed.

‘Barren and insulting.’

There was a long pause. ‘I’d like you both to leave.’

‘Will you not come to the defence of your faith?’

‘It’s a purely private matter.’

‘Not when it leads to the murder of two people and the kidnap of a third.’

She was genuinely shocked. ‘Murder? Kidnap?’

‘The kidnap may have become another murder by now,’ explained Nicholas. ‘When I said that Lawrence Firethorn was indisposed this afternoon, I was concealing the truth. He was abducted in Dover and we’ve not seen him since.’

‘But who could want to abduct him?’ she said with alarm.

‘I think that you might be able to tell us that.’

‘On my honour, I could not!’

‘Are you certain?’

‘I admire him greatly, as you know.’

‘Except when he played in The Foolish Friar .’

‘I’m truly horrified to learn that he’s been kidnapped,’ she said earnestly. ‘I’d swear as much on the Holy Bible.’

Nicholas got to his feet. ‘Would that be a Roman Catholic Bible?’

Her manner changed at once. The polite and reserved young woman revealed another side to her character. Crossing to the door, she snapped her fingers and the servant appeared at her side, holding a musket with the air of someone who had used the weapon before. Thomasina’s eyes were cold and unforgiving.

‘Escort these gentlemen off our property,’ she ordered.

‘Yes,’ he said, glaring at the visitors. ‘Out!’

Nicholas ignored the command. Instead, he walked across to the oak chest and ran his hand over its ornate carving. Then he examined the chair that had been embellished so strikingly by a woodcarver. Nicholas sat down in it and stroked the arms. The servant came over to him and pointed the musket at his chest.

‘Get up!’ he snarled.

‘But it’s such a beautiful chair,’ said Nicholas, leaning back, ‘and of a piece with that magnificent chest. Both were carved by the same man, were they not? I’ll wager that I’ve admired his handiwork before. It was on a lectern I saw in the hold of a ship called the Mermaid .’ He looked at Thomasina. ‘Is that what you were doing in the harbour that day? Sending some church furniture abroad? For that’s where this chair and that fine chest came from, I suspect. They’re too elaborate for the taste of Protestants. My guess is that they are the work of a Catholic woodcarver.’

Daniel jabbed him in the chest with the barrel of the musket but Nicholas was ready for him. Knocking the weapon upward with his arm, he kicked out both feet to trip the servant up. As the man fell backward, the musket went off and its ball lodged itself harmlessly in the ceiling, sending down a flurry of plaster. Before Daniel could move, Nicholas wrenched the weapon from his grasp and Elias leapt from his seat to hold a dagger at the servant’s throat. Nicholas strolled back to Thomasina.

‘It’s all over now,’ he warned. ‘Further denial is pointless.’

‘I know nothing of murder and kidnap,’ she cried.

‘I believe you, Thomasina.’

‘Nor does my father. He’d never stoop to such things.’

‘He may not be the person you think him. Sebastian certainly misled us. And so did you,’ he went on. ‘I thought you a decent, honest, God-fearing person with pride and self-respect. Yet you are too ashamed of it even to declare your faith.’

‘No,’ she rejoined vehemently. ‘I follow the Old Religion with a dedication that you could never even understand. We’ve withstood scorn, ignominy and persecution for many years now and we are still unbowed. Yes, Master Bracewell, I was upset when we saw that house in Faversham because it was a symbol of the vicious cruelty visited upon the Roman Catholic Church.’

‘And The Foolish Friar ?’

‘It was an unjust attack on our beliefs. I hated listening to that raucous laughter at our expense. Father took me there to see what we were up against in the theatre. The friar was held up as an object of derision and loathing. For two long hours I suffered as I watched you sharpening your blades on the only true religion.’

‘Only true religion? Not in England.’

‘Here and anywhere else,’ she said defiantly. ‘We’ll never be conquered.’

‘Then you should not have given yourself away,’ said Nicholas. ‘Was my guess correct?’ he added, glancing at the chest. ‘Did that begin life in a church?’

‘Yes, and it will be returned to one soon.’

‘Where?’ asked Elias, hauling the servant to his feet.

‘That’s something you’ll never know.’

‘We mean to find out,’ said Nicholas, as realisation dawned. ‘Come, Owen. We must away. I think I know where Sebastian is. He’s waiting to sail to France with a cargo of furniture. We must try to get to him in time.’

Lawrence Firethorn could not understand the kindness that he was receiving. Having been battered to the ground, he was now being cared for by tender hands. Someone was bathing his face to remove the blood from the gash in his scalp. The man said nothing but he was showing true compassion. When the dried blood had been washed away, a strip of linen was tied around the head to cover the wound. Firethorn wished that he was in a position to express his thanks but the ropes, gag and blindfold were severe restraints. He heard voices shouting above and the sound of activity as the anchor was hauled up. When the wind hit the sail, there was a flap of canvas and the Mermaid moved forward with loud creaking noises. Firethorn was disturbed.

After a last look at him, Sebastian Frant stifled a sigh of regret and slipped away.

When they reached the harbour in Dover, the Mermaid was just beginning to move away from the bay. Elias was dismayed but Nicholas did not give up so easily. With the Welshman at his heels, he spurred his horse in the direction of Dover Castle. Their names were enough to get them admitted instantly to Lord Westfield’s apartment. Resting on a couch after his journey, their patron gave them a wave of welcome.

‘I bring good tidings from London for you,’ he said.

‘That’s more than we can offer you, my lord,’ said Nicholas.

‘I had word from the Queen’s Head. That imbecile of a landlord has recognised his folly and wants Westfield’s Men back again. Break the news to Master Firethorn.’

‘We cannot do that until we find him, my lord.’

‘No,’ said Elias. ‘We do not even know if he is still alive.’