with a thatched roof. Smoke curled up from its chimneys. A brick wall and a clutch of outbuildings gave it protection from the wind on one side. They rode up a drive that bisected the formal garden and dismounted. A servant admitted them into a draughty hall before going to fetch his master. It was not long before the portly figure of Jerome Stratton came strutting across the oak boards. Nicholas exchangedgreetings with him then introduced Owen Elias.
‘I did not expect visitors,’ said Stratton brusquely, ‘so I’m not at liberty to entertain you, I fear. You are on your way to Silvermere, I take it?’
‘Yes, sir,’ replied Nicholas.
‘It is not too far distant. My servant will teach you the way.’
‘We already have a guide, Master Stratton. At least, we did until we lost him in the forest. We wondered if he had come back here.’
‘Of course not. Why on earth should he come to Holly Lodge?’
‘Because our pathfinder was your son.’
Stratton was astonished. ‘Davy?’
‘He insisted on coming with us,’ said Elias. ‘We thought he was homesick.’
‘I doubt that,’ growled Stratton. ‘You lost him in the forest, you say?’
‘Yes,’ confessed Nicholas. ‘The truth is that he gave us the slip.’
He explained the circumstances of the boy’s disappearance and saw Jerome Stratton’s irritation turn to anger. When he was in Shoreditch, the merchant was relentlessly good-natured. The affable manner was now hidden beneath a smouldering rage. He tightened both fists and glared at his guests.
‘You let him get away from you?’ he demanded.
‘We had no reason to suppose he wanted to go,’ said Nicholas.
‘It could be that he simply went astray,’ suggested Elias.
Stratton was bitter. ‘No question of that, sir! I own that forest and use it to supply timber. Davy often went there. He played with friends among the trees and loved to watch the woodcutters at work. He didn’t go astray,’ he emphasised. ‘Davy knows that forest better than anyone. He ran off.’
‘Why?’ said Elias.
‘That’s what I intend to find out.’
‘Where could he have gone?’
‘Not to Holly Lodge, that’s for sure.’
‘But this is his home, Master Stratton.’
‘He’s an apprentice with Westfield’s Men now,’ retorted the other. ‘When you have the sense to keep hold of him. Why did you let him go, you idiots?’
The Welshmen tensed and Nicholas stepped in before Elias lost his temper.
‘We’re as sorry as you are, Master Stratton,’ he said evenly, ‘and we’ll do all we can to retrieve the boy. When someone expresses a desire to join the company, it never occurs to us that he will take flight at the earliest opportunity. And if you really take us to be idiots, you should not have entrusted your son to us.’
‘No,’ added Elias testily. ‘We were ambushed on the road and saved Davy’s life. If that be idiocy, then have the pair of us locked up in Bedlam.’
‘I spoke too hastily,’ said Stratton, eyes darting as his mind grappled with the problem. ‘Forgive me, gentlemen. This is sorry news but it’s wrong to blame it on you.’
‘Perhaps Davy is not suited to the theatre,’ said Nicholas, probing gently.
‘He is, he is. The lad spoke of nothing else.’
‘Who first put the notion into his head?’
‘I did, of course.’
‘Even though it meant that he would leave home?’
‘Davy’s a restless boy. He wanted to spread his wings.’
‘Was your wife equally ready to lose a son?’
Stratton coloured slightly and he gritted his teeth. ‘My dear wife passed away last autumn,’ he said. ‘Were she here, she would have wanted for Davy exactly what I want.’
‘Then it was your decision to have him indentured?’
‘It was a decision my son and I reached together.’
Elias was blunt. ‘Why has the little devil gone back on it?’
It took Stratton a few moments to rein in his anger. Summoning up his last reserves of bonhomie, he gave a flabby smile and