stopped her. “Jeremy Ring? You have known him long?”
“He is a good man,” she said flatly, “a bold man, and a witty one, but a good
man. A good master on a ship, too, it is said, but times be bad and he was too
long a prisoner in Barbary. There’s few who know him now.”
“I shall be having need of him, I think.” From my pocket I took a guinea. “I do
not know how much he owes, but put that against it—”
“It is too much.”
“Then he will have food to eat and a bed to sleep in for a bit longer.”
“You are a good man,” she said quietly, “a good man. I bless you for him.”
My boots were off and I was soon undressed, and weary to the death. I stretched
out upon the bed and drew high the covers. A sleep I would have this night, if
never again.
My eyes closed, and then they opened again and looked into the dark. I must
venture to look in upon my father’s old friend. How could I leave him sick and
helpless in the hands of Rupert Genester?
Chapter 19
We Sacketts were always good men at table, and I no less than the others. So
when time came, I put foot under the table of the sailor’s wife and set to with
a loaf of dark, rich bread and some rashers of bacon and slices of cheese.
Jeremy Ring and Jublain were with me, both doing justice to what was placed
before us.
“I must know where he is,” I said. “I must do something for him.”
“You do not even know the man,” Jublain grumbled. “You’ll stick your nose into a
trap for a man to whom you’ve never spoken.”
“My father and he fought side by side. My father would have died for him. Can I
do less?”
“They were in a fight together. It is a different thing. If you go into a fight
with a man, you stay by him until he is dead or a prisoner.”
“Aye, but who will stand by a sick old man whose death is desired? I shall go to
him, Jublain, but I shall ask no man to walk beside me. The place to which I
shall go is one I can enter alone.”
“It is a trap, and you are a fool.”
“We have a failing the fen-men do. Others may not like us, some say we smell of
our fens, some say we are a dark mysterious, murderous lot, but we have a
failing that is our own. We are loyal. We stand by each other … or have until
now.”
“You talk in words that are vain,” Jublain said irritably. “You do not know
where he is.”
“But we shall find out, shall we not? Jeremy, you could do this for me. I sent
my man Corvino to Peter Tallis. By this time he may know where the old man is,
but Coveney Hasling would know, if anyone does.”
Ring got up immediately. “Good enough! I shall pass the word to a carter I know
who is returning upcountry, and he shall carry the word to Hasling.”
Jublain looked sour. “We should catch a boat and be down the river by dusk.
There are ships off the Downs that will need men. And you’ve money.”
“I’ve little. Our goods are not sold and until then it’s little enough I have.”
For two days we waited in Mag’s house. Then suddenly one day a boat drifted up
to a landing near the house and two men came up from it to the door. One was
Corvino, the other was Hasling.
“Where is he?” I asked.
Hasling shrugged, and dropped upon a bench. “You are in trouble enough, and the
old man is far gone. Too far, I fear, for him to do aught about a will now.”
“Bother the will! I want the man safe and comfortable his last days. I shall
make enough myself not to need what he would offer me, and it is so I would have
it.”
Hasling leaned across the table. “Genester came to him the instant he was ill,
and made much of his illness and the proper care that was due him. ‘I will take
him to the seashore,’ was what he said, ‘and the good sea air will bring him his
strength again!’ And so he took him away, and in London all are saying what a
fine nephew Genester is, to think so of his old uncle …”
“Where has he taken him?” I asked.
Hasling shrugged. “Where, indeed? He has told no one. And when they ask,
Genester says the Earl is poorly, but will improve with rest and care … No
visitors, no disturbances, just rest.”
” ‘No visitors?’ ”
Corvino snapped his fingers. “Hah! Give me a day, two days even, and I will know
where they have gone. There are no secrets from me in London!
“If he traveled, being ill, it was by carriage or by wagon. And how many
carriages have there been in London in the last few years? And how many of those
would he have access to? And which of those were not otherwise in use at that
time? Give me the time, and—”
“You have the time,” I told him, “what I want is the where … and quickly.”
When he was gone, Hasling looked at me curiously. “You make friends, Barnabas.
It is a fine thing to make so many friends.”
“They are good men.” I leaned forward. “You should have been with us to see the
New World. It is beautiful! There are fields, forests, mountains, streams!”
“You did well?”
“I did, and shall go back, too. It’s a fair land, Coveney Hasling, and perhaps
it is there I will stay.”
“But the savages?”
I shrugged. “I will be friendly with those who are friendly, and I will fight
those who wish to fight. I would trade with the Indians, but I see the danger in
it. Yet when two peoples come together that one which is most efficient will
survive, and the other will absorb or vanish … it is the way of life.
“The Indian must not lose pride in what he does, in his handicraft, for if he
loses pride he will no longer build, his art will fail him, and he will
completely be dependent upon others.”
Hasling nodded. “It is well to think of these things, yet I believe few will
listen … or care. The problem now, when you discover where our friend is, is
what you can do.”
“I shall fetch him and take him where he can have proper care.”
“You must beware. Rupert Genester has friends at court, nor is he a fool.
Suppose you fetched the Earl away from him and he dies on your hands?”
It was a thought that had not come to me.
“Do you see what I mean? Genester would then have attained both his desires. The
old man would be dead, and you would go to prison, a kidnapper.”
“Nevertheless, he was my father’s friend. It is a weakness of my family that we
do not forget our friends. I cannot let him die so. He must be among friends.”
“Look,” Hasling said patiently, “please understand. Since you have been gone,
the situation has changed. Not only is your friend ill, but Rupert Genester has
advanced himself. He is skilled at flattery, he knows for whom favors are to be
done, and he has worked himself into a secure position at court. He belongs to
no group, no clique, no party, yet has done favors for all, so each one can hope
that, when Genester inherits, he will be their friend, their partisan.”
Hasling paused. “He has closed all doors for you. Not intentionally—for he did
not believe you would return, until the Jolly Jack came with news of your
escape.
“Nor can Brian Tempany help you. He is in deep trouble because of talk that
Genester circulated. The Queen ordered your arrest. Tempany himself may be
arrested at any moment, and be assured, my friend, if you go to prison you will
not emerge.”
“There is a ship for the Low Country in the morning,” Jublain said, “and I know
its captain. We can be aboard before daybreak, and down the river before it is
realized we are gone.”
“It is a good thought,” Hasling said. “The temper of the Queen will change. She
is an uncommonly shrewd woman, and will not long be fooled by Genester.”
Yet I was worried. I had heard many a tale of what men of influence had been
able to bring about in getting rid of enemies, and the Queen only knew what was
told her. A good woman, a fine woman, and an excellent Queen, yet she could not
be everywhere at once, could not investigate each story she was told. She relied