window.’
‘When?’
‘Shortly after dawn. He had some wood in his arms.’
‘Ah! So
that’s
what he’s doing!’
‘I am none the wiser, Lawrence.’
‘Let me explain,’ said Firethorn, lowering his voice to a persuasive purr. ‘What is the thing that annoys you the most, Barnaby?’
‘Having that drunken rascal, Giddy Mussett, in the company.’
‘But for your broken leg, he’d not be here. That is the root of your trouble, man. You’ve been in great pain ever since the accident occurred.’
‘It was no accident. I was flung to the ground.’
‘Be that as it may, you are now hopping around on one leg and taking an age simply to get from one side of the room to the other.’ He leant in closer. ‘How would you like to move with more speed?’
‘Why? Do you intend to carry me on your back?’
‘Lawrence has already been doing that for years,’ said Elias, unable to resist the jibe. ‘But tell us how it may be done, Lawrence. Is there some means by which Barnaby can be made to fly like a bird?’
‘No, there is another way. It was Nick Bracewell’s idea.’
Gill bristled. ‘Then it will certainly not appeal to me.’
‘Hear me out. Nick must be working on the notion right now.’
‘Why? Does he mean to board me up in the stables?’
‘No, Barnaby,’ said Firethorn, ‘he intends to do you a great favour. We found an old wheelbarrow that could be mended in order to move you from place to place.’
‘A wheelbarrow!’ protested Gill. ‘You expect
me
to sit in a wheelbarrow? Am I no more than a pile of earth to be carried around then dumped?’
‘This wheelbarrow was used for horse dung.’
‘There you are, Barnaby,’ said Elias, chuckling. ‘You’ll feel at home.’
‘I’ll hear no more of it!’ shouted Gill, banging a fist on the table but unable to stem the general laughter. ‘I have high standards.’
‘Wait until you see what Nick has done,’ advised Firethorn.
‘What he has done is to come up with the most insulting idea that I’ve ever heard in my life.’ Righteous indignation turned his cheeks bright red. ‘Ride in a wheelbarrow? I’d sooner crawl on all fours.’
‘We were only trying to help you.’
‘You were trying to turn me into a figure of fun.’
Elias grinned broadly. ‘Nature has already done that for us.’
‘Be quiet, Owen,’ admonished Firethorn. ‘How can I prove to Barnaby that we have his interests at heart if you keep breaking in?’
‘Say no more, Lawrence,’ asserted Gill, quivering withanger. ‘You’ve wounded me enough already.’
‘But I’ve not told you what Nick intends to do.’
‘I’ve no wish to hear. Nothing on God’s earth would ever get me to lower myself in that way.’ He wagged a finger. ‘Keep your wheelbarrow away from me.’
At the very moment when he spoke, the door to the taproom was flung open and Nicholas Bracewell entered with the results of his endeavours. The wheelbarrow had been transformed. Having made and fitted a new wheel, Nicholas had added a stout board to support the back and a piece of wood that jutted out horizontally over the front of the wheelbarrow. Its purpose was clear. While Nicholas pushed him around the room, Giddy Mussett lay in the wheelbarrow with a lordly air, reclining on the cushions with which it had been filled and resting the leg he had put in mock splints on the piece of wood that protruded over the front. The wheelbarrow came to a halt beside Gill.
‘You’re too late, Barnaby,’ announced Mussett. ‘I want it for myself.’
Chapter Seven
As soon as breakfast was over, the rehearsal began in earnest. Having no room on his premises that was large enough for their purposes, Jonathan Jowlett was happy to give them free use of his yard, provided that they did not hold up the normal running of the inn. Whenever travellers arrived by cart or on horseback, the actors had to break off to allow them free access to the stables. They also had to endure the goggling
‘When?’
‘Shortly after dawn. He had some wood in his arms.’
‘Ah! So
that’s
what he’s doing!’
‘I am none the wiser, Lawrence.’
‘Let me explain,’ said Firethorn, lowering his voice to a persuasive purr. ‘What is the thing that annoys you the most, Barnaby?’
‘Having that drunken rascal, Giddy Mussett, in the company.’
‘But for your broken leg, he’d not be here. That is the root of your trouble, man. You’ve been in great pain ever since the accident occurred.’
‘It was no accident. I was flung to the ground.’
‘Be that as it may, you are now hopping around on one leg and taking an age simply to get from one side of the room to the other.’ He leant in closer. ‘How would you like to move with more speed?’
‘Why? Do you intend to carry me on your back?’
‘Lawrence has already been doing that for years,’ said Elias, unable to resist the jibe. ‘But tell us how it may be done, Lawrence. Is there some means by which Barnaby can be made to fly like a bird?’
‘No, there is another way. It was Nick Bracewell’s idea.’
Gill bristled. ‘Then it will certainly not appeal to me.’
‘Hear me out. Nick must be working on the notion right now.’
‘Why? Does he mean to board me up in the stables?’
‘No, Barnaby,’ said Firethorn, ‘he intends to do you a great favour. We found an old wheelbarrow that could be mended in order to move you from place to place.’
‘A wheelbarrow!’ protested Gill. ‘You expect
me
to sit in a wheelbarrow? Am I no more than a pile of earth to be carried around then dumped?’
‘This wheelbarrow was used for horse dung.’
‘There you are, Barnaby,’ said Elias, chuckling. ‘You’ll feel at home.’
‘I’ll hear no more of it!’ shouted Gill, banging a fist on the table but unable to stem the general laughter. ‘I have high standards.’
‘Wait until you see what Nick has done,’ advised Firethorn.
‘What he has done is to come up with the most insulting idea that I’ve ever heard in my life.’ Righteous indignation turned his cheeks bright red. ‘Ride in a wheelbarrow? I’d sooner crawl on all fours.’
‘We were only trying to help you.’
‘You were trying to turn me into a figure of fun.’
Elias grinned broadly. ‘Nature has already done that for us.’
‘Be quiet, Owen,’ admonished Firethorn. ‘How can I prove to Barnaby that we have his interests at heart if you keep breaking in?’
‘Say no more, Lawrence,’ asserted Gill, quivering withanger. ‘You’ve wounded me enough already.’
‘But I’ve not told you what Nick intends to do.’
‘I’ve no wish to hear. Nothing on God’s earth would ever get me to lower myself in that way.’ He wagged a finger. ‘Keep your wheelbarrow away from me.’
At the very moment when he spoke, the door to the taproom was flung open and Nicholas Bracewell entered with the results of his endeavours. The wheelbarrow had been transformed. Having made and fitted a new wheel, Nicholas had added a stout board to support the back and a piece of wood that jutted out horizontally over the front of the wheelbarrow. Its purpose was clear. While Nicholas pushed him around the room, Giddy Mussett lay in the wheelbarrow with a lordly air, reclining on the cushions with which it had been filled and resting the leg he had put in mock splints on the piece of wood that protruded over the front. The wheelbarrow came to a halt beside Gill.
‘You’re too late, Barnaby,’ announced Mussett. ‘I want it for myself.’
Chapter Seven
As soon as breakfast was over, the rehearsal began in earnest. Having no room on his premises that was large enough for their purposes, Jonathan Jowlett was happy to give them free use of his yard, provided that they did not hold up the normal running of the inn. Whenever travellers arrived by cart or on horseback, the actors had to break off to allow them free access to the stables. They also had to endure the goggling
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