I was suddenly conscious that I was shouting at the top of my voice and, before I could stop myself, I shot out a hand and sent the wine jug and beakers and plates of sweetmeats flying, spilling all over the floor and rolling on to the hearth. I don’t know what I looked like, but my host shrank back in his chair and raised his arms as though to defend himself.
Two of the servants came bursting in, obviously disturbed by my raised voice. One was holding a club between his hands and, having taken a glance at the scattered things on the floor, they advanced ominously.
Master Tuffnel, recovering from his initial fear, waved them away.
‘An accident,’ he said quietly. ‘Master Chapman was explaining something to me and hit the jug off the tray. Just pick up the plates and beakers and bring more wine. That will be all.’
The servants obeyed reluctantly and then withdrew, keeping a wary eye on me throughout. They plainly didn’t think it an accident. Feeling somewhat ashamed of myself, I sat down again.
‘I’m sorry,’ I apologized roughly. ‘I shouldn’t have behaved like that. But I was very fond of Dick Hodge, the boy who was murdered.’
Master Tuffnel nodded. ‘I understand that. And I really have nothing to offer in Tabitha and Ned’s defence, except that evil begets evil. And in spite of having been a soldier, I have always thought that war is an evil. It is not a popular point of view, I know, but one to which I strongly adhere. It brutalizes men — and women — and I have often regretted helping Ned and particularly Tabitha to lead that life. But I love them both and couldn’t have held them here with the prospect of seeing them end on the gallows. Although I have reason to believe that it was Dorcas’s brother, Arthur Monkton, who actually made both the attempts on your life and killed your young friend, I can’t pretend that the others, with the exception of Dorcas, were ignorant of his intentions. In fact, I know they weren’t. And I beg you not to think that I approve of what they did. I am a Justice of the Peace and do not believe in people taking the law into their own hands. But I also understand how their sudden encounter with George Marvell and Robert Trefusis affected them, even after forty years. Ned and Tabitha had spent a lifetime hating them, and that hatred boiled over when they clapped eyes on them again.’
And with that I had perforce to be content. Besides, I could not rid myself of the uneasy feeling that if I had not meddled, if I had left the law to take its course, Dick Hodge would still be alive. In any case, there was nothing I was able to do now. The mummers had gone beyond my reach, and the reach of justice. I should just have to accept the fact.
Master Tuffnel begged me to stay the night beneath his roof, but although I was very tired and would have welcomed a decent bed, I refused the offer. He was too closely associated with the mummers, obviously finding it difficult to blame them for what they had done, for me to feel comfortable in his company. So I refused, and he directed me to the nearest decent inn, where he assured me I would be well fed and housed without being robbed.
And the next day, I started on my homeward journey.
What else was there to do?
With luck, I should be home in time for Candlemas, and soon a new year would be beginning.