Edward Marston - The Bawdy Basket

‘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.

‘There he is!’ shouted Quilter, breaking into a run. ‘Stop him!’

‘Leave him to me,’ said Elias, drawing his sword.

But neither of them was able to stop the horseman. As they ran towards him, Paramore kicked his mount into a canter. Quilter was pushed back and Elias was buffeted to the ground by the animal’s flank. Nicholas stood his ground in the middle of the street. Whisking off his hat, he waved it violently to and fro in front of the horse’s face. It gave a loud neigh, skidded to a halt then rose up crazily on its back legs. Nicholas dodged its flailing hooves to pull Paramore from the saddle. Quilter and Elias rushed up to grab the man between them and drag him roughly to his feet. Holding the bridle, Nicholas calmed the horse with soothing words.

‘Who are you?’ demanded Paramore. ‘Unhand me, sirs.’

‘Not until we’ve talked to you,’ said Elias. He indicated his companion. ‘This is Frank Quilter. I believe that you knew his father.’

‘I knew him well enough to send him to the gallows. He was a murderer.’

‘My father was an innocent man,’ asserted Quilter.

‘Completely innocent,’ said Nicholas, still holding the horse. ‘We already have the testimony of Bevis Millburne and Justice Haygarth. Both named you as their accomplice, Master Paramore.’

‘Then they are liars.’

‘Liars and rogues,’ said Quilter. ‘Just like you.’

Paramore was defiant. ‘You have no proof.’

‘We have Sir Eliard’s ledger in our possession,’ said Nicholas, ‘and that proves everything. Your name appears in it alongside those of the others who took part in the conspiracy. Justice Froggatt received the largest bribe, I see.’

Paramore studied him with a mixture of disgust and apprehension. Remembering the corpse he had seen at Sir Eliard’s house, he began to understand what might have happened. His lip curled in a sneer.

‘You must be Nicholas Bracewell,’ he decided.