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“It is late, and I am an old man,” Thurmond said. “We shall leave you to your quiet.”

“I require no quiet. Both of you sit that I may further entertain you.”

“You are too kind. Nevertheless,” Thurmond answered with a forced smile, most certainly having enjoyed more than his fill of Ellershaw’s company, “I have had a long day, I’m afraid.”

“Perhaps I have been unclear,” Ellershaw said. “I must insist you not leave. We have not yet concluded our business.”

Thurmond, who now stood by his chair, turned to study his host. “I beg your pardon?”

“You may not leave. Do you think I invite a pugilist Jew to dine with us because of his charming conversation and great learning? Don’t be a blockhead. Weaver, be so good as to see that Mr. Thurmond returns to his chair.”

“I must protest, Mr. Ellershaw,” Forester said, “but I cannot think this is right.”

Ellershaw slammed his hand upon the table. “No one,” he roared, “asked what you think!” And then, as though a candle had been snuffed, his rage was gone; he went on with much gentleness. “There is much for you to learn, and I would fain teach it to you. Thurmond, I promise you, goes nowhere, and I think you should sit.”

Forester obeyed.

Ellershaw turned to me. “Weaver, see that Mr. Thurmond puts his arse in his chair.”

I saw that once again Mr. Ellershaw expected me to be his ruffian, and once again I wished no part of it. Nevertheless, I also understood that this was not like the incident in the warehouse. Refusing to follow his commands would not be met with a nod and a wink. No, this time I would have to buy time and see just how far this brute intended to push matters. Certainly, I told myself, he must understand that a man unwilling to beat a warehouse guardian will not be pushed to strike an elderly Parliamentarian. That was my hope.

Unable to find a better course, I rose to my feet and stood between Mr. Thurmond and the door. I folded my arms and attempted to look stoically strong.

“What is this, sir?” Thurmond demanded with a stammer. “You cannot keep me against my will.”

“I’m afraid I can, sir. What might you do to stop me?”

“I can go to the magistrate, and you may be assured that I will do so if you do not let me depart this instant.”

“The magistrate.” Ellershaw let out a laugh. “Forester, he speaks of magistrates. That is a good joke. Indeed, you must first be permitted to leave for you to speak to the magistrate. But presuming I were to let you leave-say you were to make it out of my house without suffering from an apoplexy or fatal seizure, which no one would question in a man of your years-who would believe such a preposterous tale? And to whom do you think the magistrate owes greater fealty, sir? The East India Company, which rewards magistrates for sending silk weavers to workhouses, or you? Magistrate indeed.”

Ellershaw rose to his feet and approached his guest, who had grown pale and trembling. His eyes darted back and forth and his lips moved as though mumbling a prayer, though I did not think he actually formed any words.

“I’ve asked you to sit,” Ellershaw said, and he gave the old man a mighty push in his chest.

“Sir!” Forester barked.

Thurmond fell backward into his chair, knocking his head against the wooden back. I changed my position to get a better look at his face, and I observed that his eyes had gone red and moist and his lips continued to tremble. Then, mastering his emotions, he turned to Forester. “Do not trouble yourself. We shall be done with this indignity soon enough.”

Ellershaw returned to his seat and met Thurmond’s eye. “Let me speak plainly to you. This session of Parliament will see a repeal of the 1721 legislation. You will support the repeal. If you speak in favor of rescinding the act, if you become a spokesman for the freedom of trade, we will carry the day.”

“And if I choose otherwise?” Thurmond managed.

“There is a man in your county, sir, a Mr. Nathan Tanner. Perhaps you know his name. I am assured he will win the election if something should happen to you, sir, and I can promise you that he will, despite all appearances, take the Company’s side in things. We would much rather have you speak for us, I won’t deny it, but we will take Tanner if we must.”

“But I cannot,” he said, spittle flying from his mouth as he blurted out the words. “I have built my life, my career, on protecting the wool interest. I shall be ruined, made a mockery.”

“No one will believe such a shift in positions,” Forester offered.

Ellershaw ignored the younger man. “You need not worry, Thurmond, about ruin or about what people believe. If you serve the Company, the Company will most assuredly serve you. Should your inclination be to remain in Parliament, we will find a place for you. If you have had a sufficient taste of public service-and, after all your years, certainly no one could find fault in that sentiment-we will find a very lucrative place for you in the Company-perhaps, if your enthusiasm be warm enough, even for your son as well. Yes, young Mr. Thurmond, I am told, is having a rather difficult time finding a place in life. A bit too fond of the bottle, they say. Surely he would like to inherit his father’s sinecure with the East India Company some day. I cannot but think that would put a father’s mind at ease.”

“I cannot believe I am hearing this,” Thurmond said. “I cannot believe that you would stoop to force and threats of violence.”

“I admire your zeal, sir,” Forester tried, “but surely this is too much.”

“Shut your mouth, Forester,” Ellershaw said, “or you shall find yourself in that most uncomfortable chair next. Weaver shall not have a tenth of the disgust for using you as I may ask him to use Thurmond.”

I was grateful that none looked upon me and no answer was asked of me.

“Believe what you wish,” Ellershaw went on. “It is laid out before you, is it not? And you must understand there is a profound moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest. I use force against you now to help to free the British merchant, lest he remain a slave forever to the tyranny of petty regulation.”

“You must be quite mad,” Thurmond managed.

Ellershaw shook his head. “Not mad, I promise you. I have honed my skills under the sun of the Indies, that is all. I learned much from the leaders of the East, and I know that decisive victory is achieved in different ways in different cases. I am not content, sir, to attempt to influence you and then hope for the best. I have made my case. You understand my intent and my willingness to do what is necessary. Now you must begin to work. You surely know that the Company has many ears in Parliament. If I do not hear, and hear soon, that you are beginning to discuss a repeal of the act in a favorable light, you will receive a visit from Mr. Weaver, who shall show none of the restraint he exercises here tonight.”

Thurmond shook his head. “I will not brook such threats.”

“You have no choice.” Ellershaw rose from his chair and walked over to the fire, from which he removed a poker, now glowing red and hot. “Are you familiar with the particulars in which King Edward the Second met his end?”

Thurmond stared and said nothing.

“A burning poker was inserted into his intestines by means of his anus. Of course you know; the world knows. But do you know why it was done thus? The world generally believes it was seen as fitting punishment for his sodomitical inclination, so conceived by the wits of his day, and I do not doubt that his assassins appreciated the irony of so fatal a buggery. But the truth, sir, is that he was killed thus because it left no marks upon his body. If the poker is small enough and carefully inserted, there will be no signs upon the man to indicate how he died. Now, you and I know that the death of a king must be fully inquired into, but the death of a decrepit wretch like yourself-why, who should think twice on the matter?”