‘But why did you take the stone to the Temple in the first place?’ persisted Jack.
‘Tell them, Jonathan,’ said Colin Case. ‘It is the least you owe these players for having imposed on them. Tell them, or I shall.’
‘I went to the Middle Temple with a dual purpose,’ said Case with great reluctance. ‘To see you players in the King’s Men and to, ah, collect an object that another member of the audience wished to entrust into my hands…’
‘Nonsense!’ said Captain Case, a very mild reaction for a sailor. ‘As usual, my brother can’t help making himself out to be much more important than he really is, as when he conveys to us the King’s opinion on smoking. Brother Jonathan is merely acting on commission, carrying that precious sky-stone from London to St-Malo. He is being paid for his pains, and I in turn am being paid for the pain of enduring his company and his chatter.’
‘You collected the sky-stone from someone in the French ambassador’s party,’ I said. This was not much of a stab in the dark, since Tallman had already referred to ‘an important foreigner in London’, but I could see from the expression on Case’s face that it had gone home. ‘That was really why you were at the Middle Temple. You and your cousin.’
‘Ha!’ snorted Colin in derision, so that another of my suspicions seemed to be confirmed. Thomasina was no cousin to the physician. As if to prevent any further outburst, Jonathan rapidly agreed that, yes, it was so, he had been in conversation with an individual from the ambassador’s entourage — whom he was not at liberty to name — and that he was now responsible for delivering the sky-stone to another unnameable individual in St-Malo.
Henry Tallman had been staring hard at the doctor all this time. He tapped his long, beringed fingers on the table.
‘I knew it,’ he said. ‘It is Maitre Renard you are taking it to, no? He is the only man in St-Malo who would be concerned with such things.’
‘It may be Renard.’
‘The only one who would have the resources to pay for it, too. He must trust you, Dr Case.’
‘I have a certain reputation,’ said Jonathan.
‘That is what I mean,’ said Tallman. ‘And I would wager that the individual you obtained the sky-stone from was acting — how shall I put it? — sub rosa? That he perhaps does not have full title to the thing since he is not the “important foreigner” I referred to but one of his underlings.’
Having relieved himself with these insults and imputations, he settled back, satisfied, and fiddled with a pipe. Lighting it from the charcoal brazier, he was soon filling the low cabin with layers of aromatic smoke as a way of further irritating the good doctor.
Jonathan Case said nothing in response to Tallman’s comments. Instead, he changed the subject by announcing that Jack and I might sleep in the great cabin tonight. It would be preferable, he said, to going down to the hold, where the wine barrels were stored, and much preferable to sleeping with the mariners in the fo’c’s’le. He indicated the little curtained alcoves where we might rest our heads. All of this was performed with the air of bestowing a great favour on us. I gathered that Tallman was also sleeping in the cabin, so it may have been that Jonathan wanted protection from his persecutor. Colin Case, however, planned to lay his head elsewhere. Probably he could not bear bedding down near his brother, particularly if Jonathan was occupying the space that would normally be his.
Jack said he wanted to take a turn on deck before putting his head down. He spoke for both of us. In truth, we wanted to escape the stifling air of the cabin, stifling not so much on account of the pipe smoke as for the bad feeling between the other diners.
Outside, the air was bracingly chill. The bad weather had blown itself out for the time being, and, not far above the horizon, a waxing moon bobbed like a boat among the clouds. It was quiet on deck and I wondered whether the mariners were happily asleep in the squalor of the fo’c’s’le or out and about among the delights of Gravesend.
‘Do you know what was going on in there?’ said Jack.
‘It’s fairly obvious, isn’t it? The sky-stone doesn’t belong to Dr Jonathan and probably not the person he acquired it from either. According to Tallman, it is the property of an important foreigner. Probably the legate, de la Broderie. I reckon that someone in de la Broderie’s entourage has passed it to Case for disposal in France. He’s no more than an agent for stolen goods.’
‘We don’t know that,’ said Jack.
‘No, but I do know I don’t like him. And it would explain why he wanted us with him last night. He felt more confident in company. Perhaps he was fearful that someone would attempt to take back the sky-stone.’
Jack was about to answer but suddenly paused. I sensed rather than saw him hold up his hand. From somewhere close by came a muttering sound. Jack moved towards it, stumbled and swore.
A human shape started up from where it had been lying or crouching on deck and made to dart off. But we were too quick for him. Jack had him by one side and I by the other. Although I could see little, I was fairly sure it was the individual we’d glimpsed on the afterdeck and perhaps down in the hold. His hood fell back to reveal a round face, whitened by the moon. He wriggled but he was smaller than us and after a moment he gave up the struggle. I was glad, because the tussle gave me twinges from my injury the previous evening in Middle Temple.
‘I did not know anyone was there,’ he said, as if to explain his reaction. Even though it was high-pitched in fear, his voice sounded educated.
‘You were talking to yourself,’ said Jack.
‘Was I?’ said the other. ‘Yes, that’s it. I must have been talking to myself.’
‘Who are you, sir?’ I said. ‘You are not a mariner, for sure. You’ve been spying on us.’
‘My name is Nicholas,’ said this person, and I started slightly at meeting in the dark someone who shared my name. Then he said in a more controlled tone, ‘I am no spy but a traveller like you.’
‘Well, we are the most unwilling travellers on earth,’ said Jack. ‘We leave this boat tomorrow.’
‘While I am hoping to sail on,’ said the other meekly.
By this time we had altogether slackened our hold on Nicholas’s person. Whatever he was doing on board was none of our business. Once he was free he immediately bent down and began scrabbling on the wooden boards.
‘Lost something?’ I said.
‘Yes.’
Perhaps we felt slightly guilty for having accosted this harmless gent, for Jack and I also stooped, cautiously in my case, and began to fumble about on deck with splayed hands. I found the dropped object first. It had the feel of a beaded necklace. Before handing it back I said, ‘We share a name, you and I, although people usually call me Nick. Is this what you are looking for, Nicholas?’ As he snatched it from me, I added, half in curiosity, half in mischief, ‘Deo Gratias.’
He repeated ‘Deo gratias,’ then stiffened as if he’d given himself away. Which he had, since his unthinking quickness in responding to the phrase and the discovery of the necklace — or rosary — were signs of his religion. He had not been talking to himself but kneeling in prayer, and so absorbed in his devotions that he was unaware of our presence.
‘You are taking a risk coming out on deck,’ I said.
‘I need some fresh air after a few hours in the hold,’ he said.
‘Some persons of your sort might spend days and nights inside a priest-hole,’ said Jack, showing by his words that he had also realized who — or what — this man was.
‘They have more endurance than I,’ Nicholas said. ‘I cannot bear being cooped up for long. Not that I have ever been in a priest-hole.’
‘You have a… warrant to be aboard the Argo? You are here by arrangement?’
‘My presence is known,’ said the other, choosing his words with care. ‘I do not want to say who knows.’
‘Well, my friend and I mean you no harm, I am sure,’ said Jack. ‘In fact, I am not certain that we have ever met. So goodnight to you.’
Nicholas muttered some indistinct words, presumably of gratitude, and scuttled away. Moments later we heard the sound of the hatch being opened. Jack and I remained out in the dark, as if giving Nicholas a decent interval to hide himself away once more. Neither of us said anything even if the same thoughts were probably running in both our heads. Thoughts to do with treason and conspiracy.
