There was a voice from the gallery. ‘One moment, sirs,’ called out Silas, standing up so that he could be seen. ‘I shall come down.’
Thomas and Simon had forgotten Silas hiding up there. Neither of the captains showed any surprise. They must have assumed that they would be watched. Silas came into the library and stood at the table. ‘If you’ll pardon me, sirs, I don’t think you’ll require any further protection, and I have a suggestion.’
‘Excellent, Silas,’ said Thomas. ‘Are you another expert player of hazard?’
‘No, sir, nothing at all like that, although many of my young scholars have enjoyed the game over the years. Indeed, I recall you yourself playing the occasional hand, Master Hill. The thing is, since the court has been in Oxford, one or two houses have turned themselves into agreeable places for dice- and card-players. They offer good food and wine and a bit more comfort. They charge for it, of course, but the winners are happy enough to pay. There is one such place — very popular with merchants and the like — which might be suitable. Very discreet, no signs, no prying eyes or wagging tongues. It’s a house just inside the west gate.’
‘Have you been there, Silas?’ asked Simon.
‘No, sir, but I have heard it’s frequented by well-to-do gentlemen who like to play for high stakes. No weapons are allowed in the house.’
‘Sounds perfect.’
‘I agree,’ said Thomas. ‘We have the bait and we have a place to set our trap. Now how do we persuade Fayne to take the bait?’
This time it was Tomkins’s turn. ‘Word of new players gets around like the pox. If Father de Pointz goes there this evening dressed as a travelling merchant, and is seen to lose plenty of money, I’ll wager Fayne will soon hear about it. If he’s in the county, that is.’
‘If he’s not, we’re wasting our time. But we won’t know unless we try. So, Simon will lose heavily at this house tonight, let it be known that he is in Oxford for a day or two and will be playing there again tomorrow evening. Have you got plenty of money to lose, Simon?’
‘The money will not present a problem. Losing it will be more difficult.’
‘Well, make sure you do. A winning merchant is not what we need.’
‘And you, what will you be doing, Thomas?’
‘I shall be nearby.’
‘And us?’ asked Smithson. ‘What would you have us do?’
‘You won’t be needed tonight. Tomorrow you’d best not show your faces. Hide somewhere outside, somewhere you can watch the door. If he arrives, guard the door. If he tries to run, stop him.’
‘Why don’t we shoot him?’
‘Fayne may be a traitor and a coward, he may be a rapist, but he must face the king’s justice, not ours. We’ll take him alive if we can. Six o’clock tomorrow evening, gentlemen. Silas will show you where. Let’s hope the bait smells tasty enough to bring the creature out of his lair.’
A little before seven that evening, Silas led Thomas and Simon to the house. As he had said, it was close to the west gate — close enough for a man who did not want to be seen in the town to slip in and out safely. It was two storeys high, with leaded windows and a tiled roof. A substantial house, brick-built in the Dutch style, restrained in design and displaying no sign of what went on inside. Thomas guessed that it belonged to a town official or a lawyer. It was not extravagant enough for a merchant.
From somewhere, Simon had acquired a long black coat edged in fur, a plain white shirt and black woollen breeches. His sandals had been replaced by soft leather boots. As they approached the house, he jangled the coins in his pocket. ‘I hope you’re as rich as you sound, Simon,’ said Thomas, ‘and penniless when you leave.’
‘Don’t worry, I shall lose everything but my faith, and the clothes I stand up in,’ replied Simon in a strange voice.
‘Why are you speaking like that?’ asked Thomas.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten my acting skills. This is my merchant’s voice.’
‘Of course it is. Foolish of me. In you go, merchant, and lose convincingly. Remember you’re our bait and we need Fayne.’
Simon knocked boldly on the door and was admitted at once. When he did not immediately reappear, they assumed that he had been accepted as a genuine gambler looking for an evening’s entertainment.
‘You go back to the college, Silas,’ said Thomas. ‘I shall stay here and keep an eye on things.’
‘As you wish, sir, but take care.’
‘Thank you, Silas. I will.’
When Silas had gone, Thomas walked around the house. The windows were small and there was no door at the back. Visitors could come and go only through the door at the front. He peered through a window, but the glass was too thick to see through. The walls must have been thick, too; he could hear nothing from inside. A very private house indeed.
It was no more than fifty paces to the west gate, and in the fading evening light Thomas could just make out the guards stationed there. He thought he could see six of them. How secure really is Oxford? he wondered. A few more Newburys and it would be very weakly defended, and vulnerable to attack. He hated to think what Parliamentary artillery might do to the town. Christ Church in ruins, Pembroke a heap of rubble? God forbid. Then what would the king do? Sue for peace or take his court somewhere else? No doubt the former was too much to hope for. His majesty was not going to back down now. The plot to take prisoner the queen and her unborn child showed that Pym and his colleagues would negotiate a peace, but only on terms that the king would not accept. Stalemate.
He was jolted from his thoughts by the crack of nailed boots on the cobbles. The guard was about to be changed. The ancient gates were guarded even though the town had long ago spread outside them. It wouldn’t do to be seen loitering in this quiet part of the town, so he strode purposefully towards the arriving troop. When he had passed them, he turned and repeated the exercise with the troop that was being replaced, ending up back where he started. What in the name of the king and all his men do you think you’re doing, he thought, walking backwards and forwards along this dark street like a thief in the night? If Margaret could see you now, she would think your brain was addled. And perhaps it is. Being arrested for behaving suspiciously is more likely than catching Fayne. With Simon inside the house, how ever, it was too late to change his mind. Simon might need help, and Thomas dare not desert his post until he came out. He would just have to suffer silently.
Two silent hours later, Thomas was cold and bored. Wishing he had thought to wear a thicker coat, he wrapped his arms around himself and jumped up and down in a futile attempt to keep warm. He had watched as gamblers had come and gone — not one of them remotely mistakable for Francis Fayne — some alone and miserable, others laughing and boasting about their skill with the dice or the cards. Thomas, hidden in the shadows, heard everything and smiled. Gamblers were the same wherever you went. When they won it was skill, when they lost, ill luck. Still there was no sign of Simon. Either he was enjoying himself so much that he was in no hurry to go home, or he was having trouble losing his money. Thomas was just beginning to wonder if he could stand waiting there any longer, when the street began to fill with women. They came in ones and twos and took up positions near the house. When one of them saw him, she pointed at him. ‘Look at that, girls,’ she squawked, ‘we got competition tonight. Must be some funny ones playing. What’s your name, dear? Got a friend in there, ’ave you?’ Thomas, not knowing whether to answer or not, pretended not to hear. ‘Lost your tongue, ’ave you? Shame, you might need it later.’ The women in the street cackled. Thomas turned his head away and willed Simon to appear.
At ten o’clock, the door opened and the remaining gamblers emerged into the night. Ten o’clock, early though it was, was evidently when the house closed for the day. Perhaps the owner liked to get rid of his visitors before he retired. They were immediately surrounded by women loudly describing their charms, promising excellent service, and not being easily put off. Some followed a chosen target down the street, others hung on to an arm or a waist until they were accepted or thrown off.