However, after another fruitless turn I heard voices, which I approached with a great deal of caution lest I be discovered by the wrong person—I had Thurmond in mind, principally. I therefore stepped quietly on the balls of my feet, making as little noise as possible as I approached a nearly closed door from which I heard the voices I now identified as whispers. As I grew closer I understood them to be two voices, a man’s and a woman’s, but it was only when I came close enough to peer inside that I saw it was Mr. Forester and Mrs. Ellershaw, wrapped in an embrace, speaking in the hushed, hurried tones of secret lovers. She nuzzled her head into the nape of his neck while he explained that it was with the greatest sadness that he must depart.
This discovery, I believed, explained a great deal—certainly the animosity I perceived from both Forester and Mrs. Ellershaw. They could not but suspect that Mr. Ellershaw had obtained the services of a man skilled in drawing out secrets because he wished their own secret divined. I could not yet think how, but I felt I might be able to turn this new information to my advantage.
I examined the halls in both directions, preparing to make my departure, when Forester happened to turn in my direction. I could perceive no reason why he should have done it; rather, it was one of those unfortunate coincidences that can so upturn the life a man who dwells in secrecy and dark corners.
Forester turned and his eyes met mine. “Weaver,” he breathed. “I knew it.”
Having no reason to crouch like a sneak thief, I rose to my full height and approached boldly. I should hate for Thurmond to escape, but I would manage one matter at a time, and I should be foolish to let this beast unsnare itself because I hoped for better prey.
Forester, it was true, was a man of greater height than myself, and he attempted to use his stature to intimidating advantage, but I detected at once that he was not a man of action and he would make no efforts on my person. He merely wished to make me fear him. “Get inside the room,” he hissed.
I obeyed with the easy air of a man who does the most agreeable thing he can imagine. Indeed, I stepped in, closed the door, and bowed most civilly. “I am ready to hear your commands.”
“Don’t play the jackanapes with me, sir. I can see you were sneaking about like the thief you are. And what now? Shall you go tell your master what you’ve seen? Shall you bring down upon this dear woman misery and shame and tyranny? And for what? Your thirty pieces of silver? I suppose that is the way with your kind.”
“Perhaps if you refrain from spewing slurs against my people,” I proposed, “you will dissuade me from my course.”
“I know you shan’t be dissuaded, so I shall spew what I like. That silk suit hides neither your beastly nature nor your uncouth experience, so I see no cause to treat with you like a gentleman. Think not I have any wish to berate you. I speak only so that when you hear of this lady’s suffering, you will know yourself the cause, and I can only hope you will acquit yourself like your countryman Judas and take your own life.”
“While I hesitate to deprive you of the joy of abusing my nature, my nation, and my appearance, I must inform you that Mr. Ellershaw has not asked me to discover anything of you. Indeed, I was told to show myself out, but as this is a large house, I lost my way and merely stumbled upon you by unhappy accident.” I stopped short of promising to keep secrets, for I did not wish to remove the ball from the pistol just yet—if at all.
“Of course he isn’t here about you,” Mrs. Ellershaw snapped. She stepped forward. Though she was somewhat shorter than myself, she cut a more imposing figure than her paramour. She held herself erect, her bosoms thrust out, her chin high, her face radiant with color. Indeed, she squared her shoulders in the style of more than one fighter I’ve known from the ring. “Tell us the truth, Mr. Weaver,” she said, her voice hard and angry. “You have no interest in Mr. Forester whatsoever?”
“Indeed I haven’t,” I told her, “though I cannot say why you should choose to frame my indifference to his actions with such rancor.”
“Mr. Ellershaw has no concern for matters of the heart,” she explained to her lover. “I should think he hardly recalls, if he ever knew, that men and women are disposed to have feelings for one another. If he were made aware of you, sir, he would keep his tongue until it served his interest. No, the thieftaker is here upon another matter.”
“Out with it,” Forester demanded of me, as though he had some means to compel me to say what I would not. The lady spoke into my silence.
“I hadn’t believed he’d learn the truth, but clearly he has. It’s Bridget. That wretched bargain she made was not good enough. Now he wants to end the threat permanently,” she explained to Forester. Then she turned sharply back to me. “Were you to look through my things, my papers? You shan’t find anything, I promise you. And you shall gain no intelligence from me. If you are half so clever as you seem to believe, you will return to Mr. Ellershaw and tell him you could learn nothing of my daughter’s location, and you will tell him you are like to never learn, for indeed you shan’t. I should rather throw myself ’pon the fire, in the manner of the Hindoo ladies, than give her to him.”
What madness was this? It took a moment for me to recall where I had heard the name, but then I recollected it from dinner. Bridget was Mrs. Ellershaw’s daughter from her first marriage. But why should she be hidden away, and why should Mr. Ellershaw care so much that his wife believed he might hire me to discover her?
“Madam,” I said, offering another bow, “I cannot but be moved by your maternal sentiments, but allow me to state once more that I merely wished to discover the exit. I am upon no other errand than that.”
She locked her eyes upon me for the better part of a minute and kept her face hard and unyielding. Then she spoke. “Follow this hall to the junction and turn to your left. Decline the stairs, and on your right you will see the kitchen. You may depart from there, which I believe to be more fitting for you than the front entrance.”
I bowed once more. “As you wish,” I answered, making no sign that this was the means of egress I should have chosen. “Sir,” I said to Mr. Forester, as my awkward means of taking my leave. I then hurried in the direction given to me by the good lady and soon found myself in the cold of night.
I spared no time to consider the strange encounter I had just endured. Instead, I hurried around to the front of the house, where two chaises had been brought from the mews. Here was good news, for Thurmond had not yet departed, so I had not missed my chance, and in my delay I had gathered intelligence I hoped might help illuminate some of the darkness in which I dwelled.
My task now was to follow Thurmond, and to that end I studied the environment for some height I could scale that would enable me to drop down upon the coach as it passed. This was a skill I had mastered during my younger years, when I earned my living in not the most honest of methods. The top of a coach or carriage makes a wonderful starting point for any man seeking to surprise the inhabitants, particularly if he has an accomplice who will meet him with an extra horse for the escape.
There was, however, no way to gain purchase to an appropriate height and very little chance I might sneak inside the vehicle. The footman and the coachman were engaged in conversation, and while it was theoretically possible I might be able to creep past them and somehow avoid the inevitable creak of the door opening, I did not like to depend on such luck. And once inside, then what? How could I hope to go unnoticed by Mr. and Mrs. Thurmond?
As I considered my options—such as stealing a horse or following on foot in hopes they did not travel fast—a servant emerged from the house and darted over to the coach, instructing the driver and footman to spring into action. They did at once. The driver climbed up and took the reins, the footman hopped onto the back.