‘The others will soon be here, Lawrence,’ said Elias.
‘This is more than I can bear. I’ve lost our author, our book holder, our takings from The Maid of the Mill, and now I’ve lost most of the sharers. This is a conspiracy against me.’
‘Be patient a while.’
‘Patient!’ cried Firethorn. ‘Do not talk to me of patience, Owen. I’ve been far too patient with this company and look what happens. Everyone lets me down.’
‘What’s put you in this angry mood?’
‘I spy a woman’s hand here,’ said Gill, mischievously. ‘Or rather, the absence of it. Margery has not milked his epididymis this morning so Lawrence is full of bile.’
Firethorn glared at him. ‘Be quiet, you prancing pestilence!’
‘A rift in the marital lute?’ teased Gill.
‘Taunt me any more and I’ll make a rift in your lute.’
‘Calm down, Lawrence,’ said Elias. ‘We meet here as fellows.’
‘Then show me some fellowship. Nobody else in this company will do it.’
‘This is foolish talk. You know that we all love and respect you.’
Gill tossed his head. ‘Do not include me in that, Owen.’
‘You see?’ said Firethorn, pointing at him. ‘I’m surrounded by enemies.’
‘How can one man surround you?’ said Elias. ‘This is the raving of a madman. Now, sit beside us and wait until the others come. A cup of Canary will improve your disposition.’ He patted the chair beside him. ‘Come now, Lawrence. Join us.’
Firethorn consented to sit down and sip from the cup of Canary wine that stood before him. He was sullen and distracted. Not wishing to provoke another outburst, the others said nothing. After a short while, James Ingram came into the room and greeted everyone with a pleasant smile.
‘Forgive this lateness,’ he said, lowering himself onto the settle beside Gill. ‘My horse cast a shoe and I had to take it to be shod.’
Firethorn glared at him. ‘Does the shoeing of a horse take precedence over the affairs of Westfield’s Men?’
‘No, Lawrence.’
‘Then why were you not here on time?’
‘We might ask the same of you, Lawrence,’ said Gill with an impish grin. ‘Owen and I had a long wait before you deigned to appear.’
‘The meeting should start the moment that I walk through the door.’
‘Then you’ll have to walk through it again when the others arrive for we cannot begin without them.’ Gill turned to Ingram. ‘Take care, James,’ he warned. ‘Lawrence is like a wounded bull this morning. He’ll charge you as soon as look at you.’
‘Hold your noise, Barnaby!’ snapped Firethorn.
‘Hark! The beast is snorting again. He’ll stamp his foot next.’
‘Bait me any more and I’ll stamp it on your overgrown testicles.’
‘Peace!’ chided Elias. ‘If you are in this humour, Lawrence, there is no point in having any discussion this morning. Why do we not disband and return when you are in a more amenable mood?’
‘That might take years,’ said Gill.
‘Stop goading him, Barnaby.’
‘I merely speak the truth.’
‘I’m surprised that vicious tongue of yours still knows how to do that,’ remarked Firethorn, sharply. ‘It’s told so many wicked lies that it’s in danger of dropping out. The day that Barnaby Gill turns honest man, the streets will sprout corn and the Thames will run with ale. You are nothing but a viper.’
‘Then best beware my sting.’
‘Enough of this!’ protested Elias.
‘Yes,’ said Ingram, forcefully. ‘There’s no sport for us in watching you two at each other’s throats. I thought we were met to talk about the future of the company, not to see a cock fight. Take off your spurs, I pray.’
‘Well said, James.’
Firethorn and Gill stared across the table at each other but said nothing. The other sharers began to drift in until the full complement was assembled. The actor-manager rapped his knuckles on the table to gain everyone’s attention. Before he could start the meeting, however, the door was flung open and a white-faced Hugh Wegges was standing before them. He pointed at Firethorn.
‘There you are,’ he said, ‘I need to speak with you.’
Firethorn was curt. ‘This is not the time, man. Be off with you!’
‘But you’ll want to hear what I say.’
‘If it’s to ask for your wages in advance again, then you waste your time. I spurn your request. How dare you interrupt us! Now, take that ugly visage out of my sight.’
‘We’ve been robbed!’ cried Wegges.
‘What are you jabbering about?’
‘I came to set out the costumes for Love and Fortune, that we play tomorrow, and half of them are not there. The finest costumes from our stock have gone. If you do not believe me, come and see for yourself.’
‘I’ll do just that,’ said Firethorn, hauling himself up. ‘If this be a jest, Hugh, I’ll paint you yellow and hang you from the highest tree in England.’
‘It’s no jest, alas. I wish that it were.’
Wegges led the way with Firethorn at his heels. Elias and Gill were also in attendance. The tireman kept their costumes under lock and key in a room adjacent to the chamber that was used as their tiring-house. When they got there, Wegges threw open the door to reveal the evidence of the crime.
‘See, sirs,’ he said, ‘what terrible losses we have suffered.’
The newcomers were dumbfounded. Several of their costumes had disappeared and those that were left behind were scattered all over the floor. It was obvious from a glance that the only richest garments had been stolen. Gill let out a cry.
‘They’ve taken my doublet from The Merchant of Calais,’ he gasped.
‘And my cloak from Black Antonio,’ complained Elias.
‘What of my gown from The Insatiate Duke?’ said Firethorn. ‘It was a present from our patron and cost all of twenty pounds. A pox on these villains!’ he yelled. ‘They’ve taken our clothes and left us naked. Heads will roll for this.’ He looked around in despair. ‘Oh, where is Nick Bracewell when we need him most?’
Nicholas did not hesitate. Knowing that it was important to reach Ralph Olgrave before the man’s partner did, he bounded through the streets until he came to Old Jewry. He did not even have to knock. A person he took to be Olgrave was talking to one of his servants at the threshold before departing. Nicholas had a moment to size the man up. Olgrave was older and shorter than his partner, but wider in the shoulders. Where Beechcroft had been gaunt, Olgrave was fleshy; where the one chose flamboyant apparel, the other had more sober taste. After giving instructions to his servant, Olgrave set off. Nicholas moved in to intercept him.
‘Master Olgrave?’ he enquired.
‘Yes,’ replied the other with smile. ‘Who might you be, sir?’
‘My name is Nicholas Bracewell and I crave a word with you.’
‘Do you wish to employ me in some way?’
‘Only to provide me with some information, Master Olgrave.’
‘Concerning what?’
‘Bridewell.’
‘Ah,’ said Olgrave with a chuckle. ‘Master Bracewell asks about Bridewell, does he? Visit me there, if you wish, sir,’ he went on, blithely. ‘I do not like to be interrogated on my doorstep.’
‘Does that mean you have something to hide?’ probed Nicholas.
‘Which of us does not, my friend? There’s not a man alive who does not have something in his past he wishes to stay buried. Or if there is, he’s lived a very dull life.’ He appraised Nicholas shrewdly. ‘I take you for someone who’s seen excitement in his time. That means you’ll have your share of dark secrets to conceal.’
‘Nothing that I’d feel ashamed about, Master Olgrave.’
‘Nor me. I’ve never had a twinge of guilt in my life.’
‘Let me come back to Bridewell.’
‘No, my friend,’ said Olgrave, smoothly. ‘Let me come back to Bridewell. Seek me there if you have any business with me. You’ll find me there most days.’
‘And some nights, too.’