Edward Marston - The Devil's Apprentice

Dyment gave a hollow laugh. ‘Hardly. You’re far more likely to find Mother Pigbone ringing the church bell than to see Reginald Orr kneeling before me. No, his real purpose in coming was to engage me to speak up on behalf of Isaac Upchard in court. The two of them treat their vicar with utter contempt but they’re not above using my good opinion if they can secure it.’

‘Can they?’

‘No, Master Bracewell.’

‘Did you refuse to vouch for Isaac Upchard?’

‘I simply said that it was not my place to do so. That’s when he began to shout.’

‘I heard him from churchyard.’

‘Puritanism has powerful lungs.’

‘Oh, we’ve discovered that, sir.’

‘I’m sure, I’m sure. Still,’ said the vicar obligingly. ‘How may I help you? I take it you’ve come for advice of some sort?’

‘I have,’ replied Nicholas. ‘Our new apprentice, Davy Stratton, has run away.’

‘Saints preserve us!’

‘We believe that he’s still in the locality.’

‘Sir Michael made no mention of this when I saw him earlier.’

‘We’ve deliberately kept him unaware of the situation and will continue to do so. It’s our problem and not Sir Michael’s. Please say nothing to him.’

‘As you wish,’ said Dyment uneasily. ‘What of Jerome Stratton?’

‘He, too, is ignorant of the boy’s flight.’

‘But he’s Davy’s father. He must be told.’

‘The lad belongs to Westfield’s Men now. We’re in loco parentis. Our aim is to find Davy quickly so that nobody is any the wiser about his disappearance.’

When he explained his reasons for believing that the apprentice was still in the neighbourhood, Nicholas drew a nod of agreement from the vicar. The latter was duly impressed at the number of places he had visited.

‘You’ve been very thorough,’ he said admiringly.

‘I was in the saddle at dawn.’

‘Riding in one big circle around Silvermere, by the sound of it.’

‘I wanted to know if there’s anywhere that I missed,’ said Nicholas. ‘I wasn’t able to follow every path I came across.’

‘You seem to have explored most.’ Dyment pondered. ‘But I didn’t hear any word of Oakwood House in that list you gave me?’

‘Oakwood House?’

‘Yes, it’s on the other side of the forest and well hidden by trees. You could ride within a hundred yards and not even know that it was there.’

‘Who lives there?’ wondered Nicholas.

‘Clement Enderby and his wife. Good, honest, upstanding Christians.’

‘Is Davy related to them in any way?’

‘No, and he’d have little reason to go there either. Clement Enderby was just one more person unlucky enough to fall out with Jerome Stratton. There have been a number of them over the years, I fear. Well,’ he said, recalling the death that had occurred at Silvermere. ‘Robert Partridge was another. For some reason, he and Master Stratton became sworn enemies. That was not the case with Master Enderby but he somehow found himself on the wrong side of our friend at Holly Lodge.’

‘A less than friendly friend, it seems.’

‘Davy was forbidden to go anywhere near Oakwood.’

‘Why should he want to do so?’

‘To play with the children there.’

Nicholas pursed his lips reflectively. ‘How would I find the house?’

‘Follow, me I’ll point the way,’ said the vicar.

Dyment took him outside, relieved to see that Orr was no longer on church property. The violent argument with the Puritan had upset him and he was still jangled. When he had given Nicholas precise directions, he wished him well.

‘Is there anything else I can tell you?’ he offered.

‘There is one thing, as it happens,’ said Nicholas casually. ‘How well do you know Doctor Winche?’

‘As well as anyone in the parish. A vicar and a doctor have to work closely together. Where medicine fails, prayers can sometimes succeed. Doctor Winche and I have sat beside a lot of beds together in our time.’

‘He seems a very able man.’

‘One of the best in the county.’

‘Yet he resorts to Mother Pigbone in an emergency.’

‘So do many people,’ admitted the vicar with a sigh. ‘Mother Pigbone has rare gifts, there’s no denying it but they smack too much of sorcery for my liking. But I’m in a minority, no question of that. If a respected doctor finds her potions helpful, there’s no better advertisement for them.’

‘She keeps a black boar called Beelzebub.’

‘Had it been named Matthew, Mark, Luke or John, I’d view her more kindly.’

He walked with Nicholas to the waiting horse. ‘Before you go, perhaps you could give me some advice.’

‘Willingly,’ said Nicholas.

Dyment was embarrassed. ‘It concerns the dispute you overheard in the church.’

‘I won’t breathe a word about that to anybody.’

‘That’s immaterial, Master Bracewell. I need your help, not your discretion. The plain truth of it is this,’ he went on, blurting it out. ‘Reginald Orr caught me on a very raw spot. Sir Michael has not merely invited me to watch a play at Silvermere, he’s more or less insisted that I go. As his chaplain, I can hardly refuse but, as vicar here at St Christopher’s, I find it more difficult to accept.’

‘Do you fear that your congregation would disapprove?’

‘Eyebrows would certainly be raised.’

‘Then why tell them you’re going to Silvermere? It’s a personal matter.’

‘Some of my parishioners are bound to see me there.’

‘Then you can raise your eyebrows at them ,’ countered Nicholas, producing a sudden giggle from the vicar. ‘They can hardly censure you for something that they themselves are doing. When are you bidden to the house?’

‘That’s the problem,’ said Dyment. ‘On Sunday.’

‘Ah. I see your quandary.’

‘Do theatre companies in London flout the day of rest?’

‘They do, I fear, yet not in any shameful way. Westfield’s Men do not play on the Sabbath because we’re under city jurisdiction but our rivals in Shoreditch and Bankside open their doors regularly. If people are not allowed to work, they argue, then they’re entitled to be entertained.’

‘But entertainment is work, Master Bracewell.’

A deep sigh. ‘None of us would gainsay that.’

‘So what am I to do?’ asked Dyment, washing his hands in the air. ‘Stay in the safety of the church and risk insulting Sir Michael? Or come to a play and leave myself open to moral condemnation?’

Nicholas smiled. ‘Why not simply repay a compliment?’ he suggested.

‘Compliment?’

‘Regardless of what Master Orr might think, actors are not outlandish heathens. When you take matins on Sunday, you’ll find Master Firethorn and the entire company joining you for worship. We’re Christian souls. So,’ continued Nicholas, untying the reins from the yew tree, ‘you can do unto us as we do unto you.’

‘I don’t follow.’

‘Since we’ll come to see you performing in church on Sunday morning, it’s only fair recompense for you to watch us at work that same afternoon.’ Nicholas saw the look of dismay on his face. ‘Forgive my glib suggestion. It was not meant to offend.’

‘Oh, I’m not offended,’ said Dyment. ‘Far from it. There’s a comforting logic to your argument. But I don’t think that it would persuade Reginald Orr.’

‘Is he likely to be at Silvermere on Sunday?’

The vicar rallied. ‘No, Master Bracewell. Whereas I have a legitimate reason to call at the house for I always take a private service in the chapel. If I happen to dally long enough to peep into the Great Hall, who can blame me?’

‘Nobody. I hope that you enjoy the play.’