Sackett's Land

            'Do not rest your hand upon your sword, my friend,' he said. 'There are thieves present, but we never foul our own nest, and this is our nest, our place. Dainty, is it not? Too much ale is drunk here, and too many bold stories are told by bold chaps who then slink off to some shabby hole to sleep. Only our lives are petty; never our boasts or our dreams.'

            'There is always hope for a man who can dream, and even for one who can boast, for when the two are together they try to bring both to reality. I speak from experience.'

            'Say you so? Well, perhaps there is hope then, even hope for me.' He glanced at Jublain, and had no doubts about him. He and Jublain were two of a kind, in some ways. Of me he was uncertain. I looked and acted the gentleman, yet I had dirty boots and had come in suddenly out of the night in a disreputable part of town. 'You puzzle me ... so much the gentleman.' He said thoughtfully. 'Yet your face is weathered from the elements, as no gentleman's is likely to be. I know that look, too, and even in this dim light know a sea-won weathering from that of the heather.'

            He was smiling at me, his eyes mildly amused. 'Two who walk on muddy paths in the dark, two only fresh from the sea. And a ship has come up the river, the Tiger, only just back from America. And the Queen's men are out to find two from that ship—'

            'They will be coming in the door at any moment,' I told him frankly.

            'Let us exchange hats,' he said, 'mine is considerably less than yours, but I am of slighter build. Come, let us change.'

            We did so. His was battered and much worn, and the plume so sad, indeed, but it had a different weight, a different feeling. He donned my own hat, then turned and called out, 'Major Sealey! Bring us four, will you? And join us here.'

            He looked around, smiling. 'I am Jeremy Ring, once an officer on Her Majesty's ship, then a prisoner in Barbary and now a homeless, masterless, landless man.'

            The door opened suddenly and two men stood there. One was a sharp, erect soldierly man, the other a stolid-seeming fellow who looked to need a hayfork in his hands more than a musket.

            They looked sharply about—their eyes taking in the group of lusty characters near the door, then at us.

            Even as their eyes came to rest on us, Sealey crossed to our table with four brimming tankards in his big hands. The sharper of the two looked from the fresh tankards to the empty ones on the table.

            I was sitting low on my bench to appear the shorter, and the hat of Jeremy Ring evidently gave me a different look. It was my own hat upon which his eyes fastened when he looked at Ring. 'You there!' he demanded. 'How long have you been here?'

            'Twenty-seven years, Captain. Born within sound of the Bow-Bells. Twenty-seven years, and seventeen of them aboard Her Majesty's ships or in her army ashore.'

            'I mean here ... in this place.'

            'Oh? A few minutes. We are just over from the Tabard. We found the place crowded, and needed room to bend an elbow. Will you join us, Captain? We will talk of wars and women, the worries of one, the wiles of the other.'

            'I have no time for that. I am on the Queen's business.'

            Jeremy looked shocked. 'The Queen has business here? In such a place? My dear fellow, I am surprised, I—'

            'No, no, you fool! I am looking for two Her Majesty would arrest.'

            'Only two? I could name a dozen, Captain, even a dozen dozen who richly deserve arrest. Why, I could name a Queen's officer, Captain, who deserves to be quartered, drawn and quartered, at the very least.

            'Come, Captain. Sit down, buy us a round of drinks and I will tell you such a tale—'

            'You are a fool! I've no time for that.' He stared angrily at Ring. 'You just came from the Tabard? Then we waste time, Robert. Obviously we have followed the wrong men.'

            'It was dark, and the hat—'

            'To the devil with the hat! There are many such!' They turned angrily, shoved their way through the door and were gone.

            Jeremy Ring turned to me, smiling. 'Now? You will pay for the ale, will you not?'

            'I will,' I said, 'and gladly.'

            'We will finish the ale,' he said, 'and then I shall take you to a house nearby—'

            'We wish only shelter, a place to sleep.'

            'What else? The lady is a sailor's wife, and you know how it is with them when her Jack is long gone and there's the need to live. The best places, the cleanest places in London are kept by sailor's wives, often enough.'

            'So I have heard.'

            'Mag is a good girl, one of the best, and she had a big old house willed to her by an uncle, or father, or grandfather ... anyway, she lets rooms.

            'She talks a bit, but not about her guests. Come, finish your ale, those two might come back, or others.'

            There was a light in a window of the tall house on the corner. 'That'll be Mag. She reads, poor girl. Sits up with reading or sewing, and there's too many do the last and too few the first.'

            Mag was a comely lass with blue eyes and a steady way about her, as she held high the lantern and regarded us coolly. 'If you be friends of Jeremy you are welcome.' She looked severely from Jublain to me. 'But being friends of Jeremy you'll pay in advance. And now, before you've come a step further. He owes me enough himself without bringing others to sleep under my roof and eat my fare without a penny toward the cost.'

            'How much?'

            'A six-pence, if you sleep in one bed, six-pence for each if you will have two. There's some as sleep four and five to the bed, so for them its a tuppence each.'

            'Two beds,' I said, 'and we'll be wanting a taste of something in the morning.'

            I placed a shilling in her hand. 'Take that,' I said, 'and another for good measure, and worry none at all about us.'

            'I'll not worry,' she said pertly, 'and if you are thinking it's a woman alone, I am, do not think twice about it, for I am never alone.' From under her robe, tied by a string, she lifted a heavy pistol. 'And if you think he will not speak for me, come to my door when the lights are out. You will have a bellyful of him.'

            'I do not doubt it,' I said, smiling at her, 'and if you had not a husband away on a ship, I'd be tempted to talk you into throwing your pistol out the window.'

            She looked at me boldly. 'That would take more talking than you've the tongue for, but come. I'll show you to your beds.''

            The rooms were small, but surprisingly clean and pleasant. As she turned away I 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.