With the assistance of the girl and some willow roots, I managed to climb out of the water, and sat for several minutes on the path in order to get my breath. Meantime, John Weaver and his wife, awakened by the noise and still in their nightclothes, had come out to see what was happening, and, when they knew, to inveigh against the prevalence of footpads in the area.
‘It used to be such a respectable neighbourhood,’ lamented Dame Alice.
They accompanied me back indoors, leant me some of John Weaver’s clothes to put on while my own were drying and invited me to remain beneath their roof for as long as was necessary. I assured them that with the good fire now blazing on the kitchen hearth, I should have no need to trouble them for more than an hour or two; and indeed everything except my boots was dry well before the ten o’clock dinner hour. I was just wondering if I could impose on Dame Alice for another meal, when there was a knock at the back door. The maid went to answer it and returned with Philip Lamprey at her heels.
‘Someone to see you, Chapman.’
I rose from my stool by the fire. ‘Philip! How on earth did you find me?’
‘Never mind that.’ He gripped my arm. ‘I’m not the only one out looking for you, but thank God it seems I’m the first who’s run you to ground. Word has it that Morwenna Peto’s men are still searching for you, and I wouldn’t give a fig for your chances if one of them finds you. Get out of London as fast as you can.’
When Philip gave such advice it was not to be taken lightly. I knew that ‘word has it’ meant that some of his old Southwark friends had been in touch with him and issued a warning.
‘I’ve already had one encounter,’ I said, and told Philip what had occurred that morning.
‘Then go now! This instant!’ he urged. ‘You’ve not a moment to lose.’
I began pulling on my boots, although they were still damp and squeaked a little in protest when I walked. ‘Won’t Morwenna send her bloodhounds after me to Bristol?’
Philip shook his head. ‘It’s doubtful. These people don’t like venturing so far outside their own territory.’
‘And you?’ I asked, stamping my feet to make the boots fit more comfortably. ‘Will you and Jeanne be safe?’
‘We’ll be all right,’ he assured me confidently. ‘Morwenna will have forgotten what I look like by now, and there are plenty of people who’ll stand my friend. Come on, lad! Come on! Grab your pack and cudgel and get on your way!’
I said a brief farewell to John and Alice Weaver, tendered my thanks for their hospitality and went; an unceremonious departure that must have left them thinking me ungrateful and extremely impolite. But there was no time to worry about such niceties. I parted from Philip at the bottom of Golden Lane and turned westwards along the Holborn road.
* * *
For the first few days of my journey, I walked at a steady pace, not stopping to sell the remainder of my wares, and staying as far as possible on the open highways, where I was able to keep an eye on the road at my back. I also travelled in the company of others whenever I could, and being late spring and the weather fine, there were many people, clerks, friars, pardoners, troops of mummers and jongleurs, out and about. Close to London, and heading towards it, I encountered more companies of armed men, all wearing the Duke of Clarence’s livery; and on one occasion, a wet evening when I felt extravagant enough to take a bed at an inn, I fell in with a courier of Robert Stillington, the Bishop of Bath and Wells, who was returning home after carrying a message from his master to His Grace of Clarence. And once again, I reflected on how often the names of those two malcontents seemed to be linked.
As the days passed, however, and the number of miles between myself and the capital increased, I began to feel safe, seeking out the more remote villages and hamlets in order to sell my goods. Consequently, the month of June was well advanced by the time I reached Bristol, to receive a warm welcome from my mother-in-law and daughter. It so happened that Adela Juett and her son were paying them a visit on the afternoon of my arrival home, and I was astonished at the pleasure I felt on seeing them both again, so much so that I was moved to slip an arm about Adela’s waist and kiss her thin, pale cheek. Nicholas, I threw up into the air, catching him as he fell, rough treatment which delighted him and which Elizabeth immediately clamoured to share.
‘No, no!’ I protested. ‘I must wash and change my shirt and then be off to see Master and Mistress Burnett.’
As usual, my mother-in-law was inclined to be offended by my going out again almost as soon as I had come in, but Adela only laughed. As I went outside to the pump, I overheard her say, ‘It’s no good being cross, Margaret. Surely you must know by now that Roger’s not the man to be kept on a chain. It’s one of the reasons why I like him.’ And suddenly, as I ducked my head beneath the pump’s clear jet of water, it seemed not enough that Adela should merely like me. I realized that I wanted more than that.
* * *
‘So!’ Alison Burnett’s eyes glittered feverishly in a face that was now a skeletal mask. ‘You say you know this Irwin Peto to be an impostor, but you have no evidence that would convince my father. Also, by reasoning that I find flawed and feeble in the extreme, you have decided that Uncle John, Aunt Alice and all my cousins are innocent of concocting this plot to rob me of my inheritance. The same goes for Baldwin Lightfoot.’ The clawlike hands tightened on the arms of her chair and her voice grew shrill. ‘How dare you come back here to report a job half done! Why didn’t you stay in London and search for proof against my uncle and his family?’ She beat her hands together and rose abruptly, pacing the floor. She was plainly growing hysterical, and I glanced anxiously at William Burnett for guidance.
He got up and went to his wife, trying to soothe her. ‘If the chapman says there’s no proof to be found, then there is none, and at least we have the satisfaction of knowing that we are right as regards to this impostor and your father wrong. Let us be satisfied with that. After all, we have no need of his money.’
‘No need? What has that to do with anything?’ Alison Burnett was growing yet more frenzied, lashing out at her husband and beating him about the face and head. ‘Why are you all against me?’ she screamed. ‘First my father and now you! What have I done to be treated like this? Your stupidity deprived me of all my inheritance instead of only half, and now you say that it doesn’t matter! Why should I be forced to give up what’s mine just because my father’s a wicked old fool and you’re an incompetent nincompoop?’
William opened the parlour door and yelled for Dame Pernelle to come to his assistance, but Alison, biting and kicking and scratching, now seemed beyond all control. It was obvious that during the months of my absence her emotional state had sadly deteriorated, and I decided that it was high time I left. I could return another day when things might be quieter, and Mistress Burnett less agitated. I therefore slipped unobtrusively out of the room and crossed the hall, letting myself out though the front door.
The afternoon was still warm, the sun riding high in the sky. I guessed that Adela would have returned to her own home by now, for she had been talking of going before I left, and I was seized with a sudden, seemingly irrational desire to see her again. I therefore walked down Small Street, turned right into Bell Land and made my way under Saint John’s Arch, across the Frome Bridge and out by the Frome Gate into Lewin’s Mead. As I glanced across at Adela’s cottage, I thought I saw a slight movement in the shadows cast by one wall, and the hairs on the nape of my neck began to rise; but after waiting several minutes in the shelter of the Gate, I could detect nothing further and told myself not to be a fool.