Thunderous applause broke out when the play ended. Firethorn beamed at his troupe as they gathered around him to reap the reward of their hard work. He struck the pose that he had used to such effect as Lord Malady.
‘Praise is the best medicine of all,’ he announced. ‘Take as much as you can get.’
The company came out to clapping and cheers that went on for several minutes. The acclaim did not end there. Though they had come as guests of Sir Michael, more than one spectator wanted to express his thanks in monetary terms. Firethorn graciously accepted the bounty. When they later counted their takings, Westfield’s Men learnt that they had made a handsome profit. It helped to erase some of the harsher memories they might have taken away from Silvermere. While birthday celebrations continued in one part of the house, the company had their own banquet in the kitchen. It was a fitting way to end their stay in Essex.
Dawn found them loading their cart for the long trek back to London. Nicholas checked that nothing was left behind. Elias strolled across to pat him on the shoulder.
‘Your cargo is a little lighter now, Nick,’ he observed.
‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘We leave with one less apprentice and that may prove a gain rather than a loss. Since he was not legally the boy’s father, Jerome Stratton’s contract with us was null and void.’
‘That lousy merchant broke the law in other ways as well.’
‘He’ll answer for that, Owen.’
‘So will Doctor Winche and Mother Pigbone.’
‘Yes, they were all involved in the conspiracy but the real villain was Romball Taylard. It was so ironic,’ he commented, gazing across at the house. ‘Master Stratton apprenticed Davy to us in order to get rid of him yet the lad’s first engagement as an actor was at Silvermere. Injustice came home to roost.’
‘How will the lad fare?’
‘Very well, I’m sure. Master Enderby showed great kindness in taking him in.’
‘Every boy should be with his mother.’
‘Nonsense!’ said Firethorn, coming to join them. ‘Believe that and we’d never get a single apprentice. Theatre is the best mother of all, Owen. Have you so soon forgotten what happened on that stage last night? She suckled us delightfully.’
After giving the order to mount up, Firethorn hauled himself into the saddle and led his company past the main door of Silvermere. Sad to see them leave, Lady Eleanor and her guests were standing on the steps to wave them off but there was no sign of their host. Firethorn doffed his hat in a gesture of farewell then took the cavalcade around the perimeter of the lake. Seated beside Nicholas on the cart, Egidius Pye was still bubbling with pleasure at the success of his play.
‘Thank you, thank you!’ he said effusively.
‘It’s we who should thank you for a wonderful play,’ said Nicholas.
‘I’ll be a lawyer no more. You’ve changed my life.’
No sooner had he spoken than there was an ear-splitting explosion behind them. Standing beside the smoking culverin that had been winched to the top of the tower, Sir Michael Greenleaf looked on as his cannon ball described a gentle arc through the air before landing in the middle of the lake. The last of the ice was shattered and the departing actors were covered with spray. From his lofty eminence, Sir Michael had added his individual tribute to them.
The Wizard of Silvermere had perfected his new gunpowder at last.