“It is a long story,” said the falconer. “I am too weary to tell it to-night. But to-morrow, perhaps.”
Thereupon, he went out of the room. Shakespeare was much relieved to see him go. But the man’s inopportune return had much increased the difficulties of the situation.
“I have seen that man before,” said Gervase, “yet, for my life, I cannot think where. And I have not the least doubt that it is my brother and I he is seeking. To-morrow, I must have a talk with him.”
“Might it not be well,” said the player, “first to find out whether he is a friend or an enemy.”
“In any case, he is not likely to recognize me in this guise,” said Gervase.
“It would be wise to take no chances, my friend,” said the player.
The task he had set himself was now beginning to press very heavily upon William Shakespeare. He well knew it would be fatal to any plans he might evolve if the fugitives learned what the business was that had sent the falconer scouring the country-side. He must do all that lay in his power to prevent the man conversing with Gervase Heriot. And he must also contrive a means to keep Anne Feversham out of his sight, lest he recognize her in spite of her boy’s dress.
Thus it was in a state of dire perplexity that the player sought his bed that night.
CHAPTER XXIV
MR. WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE rose early, after a troubled night. Throughout its interminable watches his mind had been dominated by the necessity of keeping the falconer and the fugitives apart. It was almost certain that the man would recognize his young mistress. And if this came to pass, she would learn at once her father’s tragic peril.