Rose was pale with horror.
Everyone was leaving the cellar. They could visit a bawdy-house at any time; but it was not so often that they could see one of the patrons drag a girl to jail.
“I’ve been robbed here more than once, I swear it,” declared a little man.
“And I!” “And I!” the cry went up.
Nell moved then; she ran after the group who were pushing their way into the street. Already down in Cole-yard the flesh-merchant was calling out where he intended taking Rose, and crowds were gathering.
“A pickpocket whore!” Nell heard the words. “Caught stealing money.”
“’Tis a lie. ’Tis a lie!” cried Nell.
Nobody looked at her. She fought her way to Rose. Poor Rose, bedraggled and weeping so bitterly, her pretty gown ruined, her pretty lips begging, pleading, swearing that she was innocent.
Nell caught at the flesh-merchant’s arm. “Let her go. Let my sister go!”
He saw her, and as she clung to his arm he raised it and swung her off her feet.
“It’s the imp who serves strong waters. I’ll warrant she’s as quick with her fingers as the other. We’ll take her along with us, eh, my friends?”
“Aye, take her along. Take the whole lot along. Have them searched, and have them hanged by the neck, as all thieves should be.”
Nell caught one glimpse of Rose’s anguished face. Nell’s own was distorted with rage. She dug her teeth into the flesh-merchant’s hand, gave him a kick on the shin, and so startled him that, letting out a cry of pain, he relaxed his hold on her.
She screamed: “Run, Rose. Run!” as she herself darted through the crowd. But Rose could not so easily make her escape; the crowd saw to that; and in a few seconds the flesh-merchant had regained his hold upon her, and the shouting crowd carried Rose Gwyn to Newgate.
Nell had never known such fear as now was hers. Rose was in jail. She was a thief, the flesh-merchant had declared; he had discovered his purse on her, and ten shillings were missing from it. There were even men to come forward and say they had seen Rose take the purse.
Rose had a fine dress, it was remarked. By what means had she, a poor girl in a low bawdy-house, come by such a garment? She had stolen the money to pay for it, of course.
Those who were found guilty of theft suffered the extreme penalty.
Nell walked the streets in her misery, not knowing which way to turn for comfort. Her mother drank more and more gin, and sat weeping through the day and night, for few people came to the cellar during those days. The rumor had spread that if you went into Mother Gwyn’s house you might lose your purse. There had been many lost purses, and now Mother Gwyn as a result was going to lose her daughter.
Rose … in prison. It was terrible to think of her there—Rose who such a short while ago had been so happy with her lover, the man who thought so highly of her that he had promised to make her sister one of Orange Moll Meggs’ girls.
There was only one person who could offer Nell comfort, and that was her cousin Will. They sat on the cobbles in the yard and talked of Rose.
“There’s nothing can be done,” said Will. “They’ve declared her a thief, and they’ll hang her by the neck.”
“Not Rose!” cried Nell, with the tears running down her face. “Not my sister Rose!”
“They don’t care whose sister she is, Nelly. They only care that they hang her.”
“Rose never stole anything.”
Will nodded. “It matters not whether she stole or not, Nelly. They say she stole, and they’ll hang her for that.”
“They shall not,” cried Nell. “They shall not.”
“But how will you stop them?”
“I know not.” Nell covered her face with her hands and burst into loud sobs. “If I were older and wiser I would know. There is a way, Will. There must be a way.”
“If Mr. Killigrew had been there it would not have happened,” said Will.
“If he had been there, he could have stopped it. Will, mayhap he could stop it now.”
“How so?” said Will.
“We must find him. We must tell him what happened. Will, where can we find him?”
“He is Groom of the Bedchamber to the Duke.”
“I will go to the Duke.”
“Nay, Nelly. You could not do that. The Duke would never see you!”
“I would make him see me … make him listen.”
“You would never reach him.” Will scratched his head. Nell watched him eagerly. “I saw him last night,” added Will.
“You saw him? The Duke?”
“Nay, Henry Killigrew.”
“Did you tell him about Rose?”
“I tell him? Nay, I did not. I was holding a torch for a gentleman close by Lady Bennet’s, and he came out. He was as close to me as you are now.”
“Oh, Will, you should have told him. You should have asked his help.”
“He has not been to Cole-yard since, has he, Nelly? He’s forgotten Rose.”
“I’ll not believe it,” declared Nell passionately.
“Rose used to say you only believed what you wanted to.”
“I like believing what I want to. Then I can make it happen mayhap. Does he go often to Lady Bennet’s?”
“I heard it said that he is mighty interested in one of the girls there.”
“That cannot be. He is interested in Rose.”
“Such as he can be interested in many at a time.”
“Then I will go to Lady Bennet’s, and I will see him and tell him he must save Rose.”
Will shook his head.
Nell was the wildest thing he had ever seen. He never knew what she would do next. There was one thing he did know: it was folly to dissuade her once she had set her mind on something.
So the small raggedly clad girl waited in the shadows of Lady Bennet’s house. None of the gentlemen passing in and out gave her a second glance. She looked much younger than her thirteen years.
She knew that she would find Henry Killigrew there. She must find him there, and she must find him quickly, for Rose was in acute danger. If she could not find him at Lady Bennet’s, then she would at Damaris Page’s. She could be sure that it would be possible to find such a profligate as Rose’s Henry undoubtedly was, at one of the notorious brothels in London.
Nell felt that she had grown up in these last days of her grief. She was no longer a child but a woman of understanding. Nothing she discovered of Henry Killigrew would surprise her as much as the fact that he had ever come to Cole-yard.
And it was outside Lady Bennet’s that she came face-to-face with him. She ran to him, fell on her knees before him, and took his hand in hers. There was another gentleman with him who raised his eyebrows and looked askance at his companion.
“What means this, Henry?” he asked. “Who is the infant?”
“God’s Body! I swear I’ve seen the child somewhere ere this?”
“You keep strange company, Henry.”
“I’m Nell,” cried Nell. “Mrs. Rose’s sister.”
“Why, now I know. And how fares Mrs. Rose?”
“Badly!” cried Nell in sudden rage. “And that seems small concern of yours.”
“And should it concern me?” he asked flippantly.
His companion was smiling cynically.
“If you are not knave it should,” retorted Nell.
Henry Killigrew turned to his companion. “This is the child who serves strong waters at Mother Gwyn’s bawdy-house.”
“And strong words with it, I’ll warrant,” said the other.
“A sharp-tongued vixen,” said Henry.
Nell cried suddenly: “My sister is in prison. They will hang her.”
“What?” said Henry’s companion languidly. “Do they then hang whores? It will not do.”
“Indeed it will not do,” cried Henry. “Shall they hang all the women of London and leave us desolate?”