‘He left the room before I did,’ said Owen Elias. ‘I expected him to be here.’
‘I hope that he’s not causing any mischief.’
‘No, Lawrence. Giddy will have gone off to start the day with a good deed. He’s probably letting Barnaby out of the privy.’
‘This is no jest, Owen,’ said Firethorn, silencing the sniggers with a raised hand. ‘I prefer to have Giddy where I can see him. If he has been bothering Barnaby in any way, it will go hard with him.’ He picked out the smallest figure at the table. ‘George.’
‘Yes, Master Firethorn?’ Dart piped up.
‘Have you seen Barnaby this morning?’
‘Yes, Master Firethorn.’
‘Were there any incidents during the night?’
‘None,’ said Elias, ‘for Barnaby’s splint kept getting in the way.’
‘This is a serious matter, Owen,’ said Firethorn. ‘Well, George?’
‘I called on Master Gill earlier,’ he said, ‘to see if I could bring him breakfast in his room, but he chose to have it with the rest of us. He has not slept at all but it is not Giddy’s doing. There was no mention of him.’
‘I’m pleased to hear that. So where is Giddy now?’
‘I do not know, Master Firethorn.’
‘Nick was supposed to keep an eye on him,’ recalled Elias. ‘You must ask him.’
‘But he’s not here either,’ said Firethorn with exasperation. ‘Where on earth is everyone hiding this morning?’
‘I am not hiding, Lawrence,’ declared Barnaby Gill, making a sudden entrance and pausing in the door for effect. ‘I’ve come to take my rightful place in the company.’ He ran his eye down the table. ‘Has Giddy Mussett absconded yet?’
‘No, no, Barnaby.’ Firethorn beckoned him over. ‘Come and sit next to me.’
Dart moved across to help the newcomer but Gill waved him away, using the crutch with skill and hopping over to the table. Elias moved along the bench to make way for him. Gill’s arrival served to dampen everyone’s spirits and conversation among the actors was more muted. When he had eaten his first mouthful of bread, Gill remembered what he had seen earlier.
‘What is Nicholas doing in the stables?’ he asked.
‘Is that where he is?’ said Firethorn.
‘I saw him walk past my window.’
‘When?’
‘Shortly after dawn. He had some wood in his arms.’
‘Ah! So that’s what he’s doing!’
‘I am none the wiser, Lawrence.’
‘Let me explain,’ said Firethorn, lowering his voice to a persuasive purr. ‘What is the thing that annoys you the most, Barnaby?’
‘Having that drunken rascal, Giddy Mussett, in the company.’
‘But for your broken leg, he’d not be here. That is the root of your trouble, man. You’ve been in great pain ever since the accident occurred.’
‘It was no accident. I was flung to the ground.’
‘Be that as it may, you are now hopping around on one leg and taking an age simply to get from one side of the room to the other.’ He leant in closer. ‘How would you like to move with more speed?’
‘Why? Do you intend to carry me on your back?’
‘Lawrence has already been doing that for years,’ said Elias, unable to resist the jibe. ‘But tell us how it may be done, Lawrence. Is there some means by which Barnaby can be made to fly like a bird?’
‘No, there is another way. It was Nick Bracewell’s idea.’
Gill bristled. ‘Then it will certainly not appeal to me.’
‘Hear me out. Nick must be working on the notion right now.’
‘Why? Does he mean to board me up in the stables?’
‘No, Barnaby,’ said Firethorn, ‘he intends to do you a great favour. We found an old wheelbarrow that could be mended in order to move you from place to place.’
‘A wheelbarrow!’ protested Gill. ‘You expect me to sit in a wheelbarrow? Am I no more than a pile of earth to be carried around then dumped?’
‘This wheelbarrow was used for horse dung.’
‘There you are, Barnaby,’ said Elias, chuckling. ‘You’ll feel at home.’
‘I’ll hear no more of it!’ shouted Gill, banging a fist on the table but unable to stem the general laughter. ‘I have high standards.’
‘Wait until you see what Nick has done,’ advised Firethorn.
‘What he has done is to come up with the most insulting idea that I’ve ever heard in my life.’ Righteous indignation turned his cheeks bright red. ‘Ride in a wheelbarrow? I’d sooner crawl on all fours.’
‘We were only trying to help you.’
‘You were trying to turn me into a figure of fun.’
Elias grinned broadly. ‘Nature has already done that for us.’
‘Be quiet, Owen,’ admonished Firethorn. ‘How can I prove to Barnaby that we have his interests at heart if you keep breaking in?’
‘Say no more, Lawrence,’ asserted Gill, quivering with anger. ‘You’ve wounded me enough already.’
‘But I’ve not told you what Nick intends to do.’
‘I’ve no wish to hear. Nothing on God’s earth would ever get me to lower myself in that way.’ He wagged a finger. ‘Keep your wheelbarrow away from me.’
At the very moment when he spoke, the door to the taproom was flung open and Nicholas Bracewell entered with the results of his endeavours. The wheelbarrow had been transformed. Having made and fitted a new wheel, Nicholas had added a stout board to support the back and a piece of wood that jutted out horizontally over the front of the wheelbarrow. Its purpose was clear. While Nicholas pushed him around the room, Giddy Mussett lay in the wheelbarrow with a lordly air, reclining on the cushions with which it had been filled and resting the leg he had put in mock splints on the piece of wood that protruded over the front. The wheelbarrow came to a halt beside Gill.
‘You’re too late, Barnaby,’ announced Mussett. ‘I want it for myself.’
Chapter Seven
As soon as breakfast was over, the rehearsal began in earnest. Having no room on his premises that was large enough for their purposes, Jonathan Jowlett was happy to give them free use of his yard, provided that they did not hold up the normal running of the inn. Whenever travellers arrived by cart or on horseback, the actors had to break off to allow them free access to the stables. They also had to endure the goggling eyes of the ostlers, servingmen and tavern wenches as they honed their art in the open air. The company approached A Trick To Catch A Chaste Lady with some caution. Its previous performance had been disastrous and their superstitious natures made them uneasy about the piece. Another cause for discomfort was the fact that one of the main roles — that of Bedlam, the clown — was being played by someone who had no real acquaintance either with the play or with the people acting in it. Giddy Mussett was an affable companion but that did not mean he would be a worthy substitute for Barnaby Gill. When word of Mussett’s illiteracy spread, the company became even more restive.
It was Nicholas Bracewell who helped to restore their confidence. Not only did he show Mussett where to stand and when to move in each scene, he repeated the clown’s lines over and over again until Mussett had committed them to memory. The others were amazed at the speed with which their new colleague was mastering the basic elements of his role. What he lacked was Gill’s familiarity with the part and his ability to invest each line with a comic slant. His jig, however, was equal to that of his predecessor and his facial contortions made the onlookers break into spontaneous laughter. Gill was less than amused. Still outraged at the proposition that he should be carried around in a wheelbarrow, he had retired to his room to sulk. He was now watching the rehearsal through the window with a mixture of sadness and pique, dejected because he was unable to take part and nettled that his role had been given to a man whom he loathed so much. Each laugh that Mussett gained was like a dagger through Gill’s heart.