It was another possibility and they discussed it briefly before turning to other matters. Nicholas was glad that he had confided in his new friend. Millfield was now eyeing him with concern.
How do you feel, Nick?'
'Much better.'
'Are you fully recovered from your ordeal?' said the other with anxiety. 'It heartened us greatly when you and Dick Honeydew returned but the pair of you did look more than a little bedraggled.'
'You should have seen us when we set out. We were caked in blood and filth with a stink on us you could have smelled a hundred yards off.' He wrinkled his nose at the memory. 'Dick and I stopped at a stream to clean ourselves up before coming back.'
'Both of you must be aching all over.'
'I will have to make some more of that ointment.'
'It has certainly helped me.'
'We will sleep well tonight, I think.'
Millfield smiled his agreement then looked across at Richard Honeydew. The boy still showed the effects of his incarceration but he was patently delighted to be back with the company and his face was animated.
'He is hopelessly in your debt, Nick.'
'I could not let them steal our best apprentice.'
'It goes deeper than that.'
'We are good friends.'
'You are like a father to the lad and risked your life for him. Have you ever had a child of your own?'
'I was never married, Christopher.'
'The two things do not always go together.'
Nicholas laughed evasively and changed the subject. He was enjoying his chat with the actor and finding new things to like about him all the time. When Millfield moved away, however, it became clear that not everyone shared the book holder's good opinion of him.
A worried Eleanor Budden bustled over.
'Do not listen to him, sir,' she begged.
'Master Millfield?'
'He is a very dangerous young man.'
'Why, Mistress?'
'Because he does not believe in God.'
'Did he attest as much?'
'More or less, Master Bracewell.'
'I find that hard to accept.'
'Beware, sir!'
'Of what?'
'Atheism in our midst!'
Nicholas did not take the claim at all seriously and she did not pursue it since she wanted to enjoy their rare moment alone. Love made her eyes sparkle like gems.
'It was wonderful to see you back with us!'
'I share your delight, Mistress.' I knew that God would not take you away from me.'
'My place is here with the company.'
And mine is beside you.'
'We will get you to York with all due speed.'
'I have found the true path in you!'
Her ardour was quite unnerving and Nicholas glanced around for help. Being attacked by robbers or captured by rivals were nowhere near as frightening as being cornered by Eleanor Budden. If he was not circumspect, she would rob him of something he did not want to lose and hold him captive in a way that did not appeal. He fended her off with questions.
'How do you like the fellowship of actors?'
'Yours is the only company I seek, Master Bracewell.'
'Does nobody else interest you. Mistress?
'They pale beside you, sir.'
'What of Master Quilley. He is a famous artist. Have you and he had discourse yet?'
'Only when I interrupted him,' she said. 'He was angry when I came upon him playing with his cards.'
'Cards?'
'I have never seen the like before. They had strange pictures on them and he studied each one with great care. It was almost as if he looked for some kind of message.'
Nicholas Bracewell smiled in gratitude. Unwelcome as her attentions had been, he sensed that Eleanor Budden had unwittingly given him some valuable information.
His suspicion of Oliver Quilley deepened.
Days without his wife and nights without her precious bounty had wrought changes in Humphrey Budden. The house seemed empty, the children were fractious and his whole life was now hopelessly barren. Long discussions with Miles Melhuish were followed by even longer ones with the Dean. It was the latter who counselled action.
You have sinned against your wife.'
'The memory of it is grievous unto me.'
'You must seek her forgiveness.'
How may I do that?'
'Not here in Nottingham, that is certain.'
'Then where?'
'In York,' said the Dean sonorously. 'There is no better place for you to be cleansed and reconciled. Go to York, sir. Seek your estranged wife in that monument to Christian dedication. That is where your hope lies.'
'Will she take me back?'
'If you deserve it, Master Budden.'
'Should I travel with the children?'
'Alone, sir. This is a matter between two souls.' He lowered ecclesiastical lids. 'And two bodies.'
Humphrey Budden left for York the next day.
A bell had signalled the beginning of the Whitsuntide fair and pandemonium followed. Streets that were usually crowded were now overflowing. Shops and stalls that were usually busy were now completely besieged. York was aflame with life. Tinkers, travellers, pilgrims, country folk, merchants, knights and many more streamed in through the four gates. Minstrels, mummers, acrobats and jugglers competed for attention. The shrieking of children and the yapping of dogs swelled a cacophony that was taken to deafening pitch by the constant peal of church bells. The city ran riot for three holy days.
Westfield's Men came in through Micklegate and made their way through the press to the Trip to Jerusalem, a name that had a special resonance for them. Lambert Pym gave them an exaggerated welcome and conducted them to their rooms with beard-scratching charm. Accommodation was also found for Oliver Quilley and Eleanor Budden. The exuberant Susan Becket appointed herself as Firethorn's bedfellow yet again. Jerusalem was a spacious metaphor.
Nicholas Bracewell was dispatched at once to the Lord Mayor to secure a licence for performance. When he came back with it in his hand, he found Firethorn poring over a letter from Sir Clarence Marmion that invited them to stage a play at his house. Here was good news indeed. York was proving to be a worthy shrine for pilgrimage. Not a moment was wasted. Playbills were printed and posted up, a stage was erected in the yard at the inn, and the first rehearsal was held. The hectic pace of it all made them think they were back at the Queen's Head.
