Skinner the next morning. She told me she had not seen her physician for days.' He exerted even more pressure on the other. 'Tell me the truth. Master Glanville.'
It was the only option left to the steward. His composure fell away to be replaced by candid apprehension. The calm voice now took on a note of apprehension.
'Help us, sir. We are almost there.'
'We?'
'Do not undo our good work.'
'Explain, Master Glanville.'
'Step into my room.'
Nicholas released him then followed him into the room. The steward closed the door, turned the key in the lock and slid home the heavy bolt. The book holder glanced around. It was a small but neat apartment. The oak floor and the panelled walls gleamed. Clearly, the occupant had a passion for order and tidiness. Nicholas turned on him.
'Who is that patient at Bedlam?'
'A miller's son from the next county, sir.'
'How came he there?'
'He fell from a loft and injured his head badly. Doctor Renwick, the physician whom you saw, heard of the case. The symptoms were almost identical. The boy's mother had died and there was nobody to tend him. Putting him into Bedlam was Doctor Renwick's idea.'
'So that Master David. Jordan could be spared that ordeal.
'Yes, sir.'
'Where is he now?'
'Where he can be looked after properly,' said Glanville with obvious sincerity. 'I could never desert my old master, sir, nor see him consigned to a place like that. Though it cost my life, I would rescue him from such a fate. It has been difficult, Master Bracewell. It has been the Devil's own work but we have stuck to our task and our caring has been rewarded. The old master is steadily recovering.'
Nicholas studied him and realised how mistaken he had been in the man. Instead of being an enemy, Joseph Glanville was the most loyal friend. To protect David Jordan, he had risked everything. If the new master had learned what he had done, dismissal was the least that the steward would have faced. Glanville was brave as well as constant.
Wrong about him, Nicholas was right about one thing.: M believe that he is here, sir.' ' 'In the next room, Master Bracewell.'
'I should like to meet him.'
Glanville thought it over then crossed to the door.
*
Distinguished guests began to arrive in their carriages from all over the county. Luxuriating in his role as the new master of Parkbrook House, Francis Jordan welcomed them on his lawn then guided them into the ante-room for a cup of wine. Word of the play had leaked out and provoked much excitement. The reputation of Westfield's Men extended well outside the city. Last to appear, the company's esteemed patron was the first to take his seat in the Great Hall where the sumptuous banquet had been laid out in the shape of a horseshoe. Francis Jordan sat beside his uncle at the very heart of the horseshoe, diametrically opposite the stage.
Both men were resplendent in their finery and they competed for attention with their poses and their brittle laughter. Lord Westfield was, for once, outshone by his nephew who favoured doublet and hose of such a deep blood-red silk that it gave him a decidedly satanic look. Sleeves and breeches were slashed through with black and the high ruff was pink. Francis Jordan wanted to be his own merry devil.
The banquet was lavish to the point of excess. Beef and mutton were followed by veal, lamb, kid, pork, coney, capon and venison besides a variety offish and wild fowl. Wine and sherry were served in silver bowls, goblets and fine Venetian glasses. A wide range of desserts was supplemented by huge dishes covered with fresh fruit. No sooner had one course finished than another was brought in from the kitchens by liveried servants on loan from Westfield Hall. The entire assembly was soon lulled into a feeling of well-being. There were toasts and speeches and sustained over-indulgence.
Then it was time for the play.
The curtains were closed to throw the hall into semidarkness. Flickering candelabra had been cunningly placed by Nicholas Bracewell to throw their light upon the stage. Up in the gallery, the musicians played in the gloom like so many ghosts. The effect was carefully judged so that the audience could only see what they were allowed to see. Francis Jordan was beside himself with glee, convinced that his guests would have an experience without compare.
The third and last performance of The Merry Devils began.
It exerted total control over its spectators. Lawrence Firethorn was as astonishing as ever in the role of Justice Wildboare. He even included an affectionate parody of Lord Westfield at one point and set off an explosion of mirth that lasted for several minutes. Richard Honeydew was enchanting as Lucy Hembrow and the other agencies supported him well in the female roles. Droopwell amused everyone with his whining impotence. Doctor Castrato was an instant success.
The major change came with Youngthrust. Still played with verve by Edmund Hoode, the part had been changed considerably in the very hour before performance. At the request of the book holder, the playwright had done a lot of last-minute alteration. Instead of being a young lover who pined for his mistress, Youngthrust now had a sinister streak to him. He still sighed for Lucy Hembrow but with an air of calculation. Here was a patent fortune- hunter masquerading as a passionate swain.
Both Youngthrust and the actor who played him were changed men. Nicholas had taken on the delicate job of telling his friend the truth about Grace Napier. Devastated at first, Hoode eventually rallied by persuading himself that he was involved in a major romance after all. It was not between him and Grace but between her and David Jordan. To help her and to be somehow instrumental in reuniting her with her true love was a task that lie took on with enthusiasm.
Act Three stoked up fresh anticipation in the audience. The devils were due to appear. Lord West field and Francis Jordan had seen the play before when the creatures had popped up from below the stage, but that was impossible here. From where would they come? Both men leaned forward with gluttonous interest.
Doctor Castrato extinguished several candles so that the stage was almost in darkness, save for a central barrage of light. It was now so dim in the hall, and everyone's attention was so firmly fixed on the stage, that nobody saw the two figures flit in through the door at the back to watch from the shadows. Each had a special reason to be there.
Grace Napier stood beside Joseph Glanville.
Barnaby Gill savoured his best scene and summoned the devils in his high and ridiculous voice. There was a huge explosion from behind the curtains then they parted for Hell's Mouth to be wheeled out with real flames shooting out of it so realistically that screams of fear went up from the ladies. T he effect had been devised by the book holder who had taken Firethorn's professional advice. Having been brought up in a forge, the actor-manager knew how to heat up a brazier and use bellows to produce dazzling flame.
The spectators were spellbound as three merry devils came dancing out of the inferno, for all the world as if they had been spewed up from the mouth of Hell. George Dart, Caleb Smythe and Ned Rankin pranced about comically in their devil costumes then submitted themselves to their new master. Some additional material had been supplied by Hoode and mocking laughter was raised by some obvious allusions to the new master of Parkbrook.
As the play brought new delights in each scene, an unexpected guest arrived. Lurking outside in the trees, he ran stealthily to a window and peered in through a chink in the curtain. Jack Harsnett could see little but hear everything. He crept along the wall with his axe over his shoulder and made his way furtively towards the kitchens.
In the Great Hall, meanwhile, The Merry Devils approached its crowning moment, Justice Wildboare and Droopwell were discarded and the marriage of Lucy and Youngthrust was announced, a less than satisfying ending as the latter was such an arrant Machiavel. At the wedding ceremony itself, the priest brought the couple together
