Much Ado About Murder Read Online Free PDF Page B

belligerently. However, his fellow apprentice quickly intervened.
    "It means that he remembers his old friends, Bruce. Just as he remembers still how easily you can be baited. Don't get your back up. It's just our old friend Ben, see?"
    "Well, 'tis growing late and I really should be going," Corwin said, getting to his feet. "You
will
speak on my behalf to Master Leonardo, won't you, Ben? You did promise."
    "I promised that I would and so I shall, my friend," said Dickens, holding out his hand. As Corwin took it, he added, "And if my word bears any weight, why then, you may soon receive permission to go courting your young goddess, Hera. After that, why 'tis up to you, entirely."
    "I could never ask for more," said Corwin with a smile. "Gentlemen, I bid you all good night."
    "Good night, Corwin," Shakespeare said.
    "And good luck in your suit," added Burbage, with a grin. "Come and bring your pretty Hera to see us at the theatre when we open once again."
    "If her father proves agreeable, why then I may even spring for a box up in the galleries," Corwin replied with a smile.
    "So speaks the prosperous new journeyman," said Jack, with a heavy touch of sarcasm in his tone. "One might think that you could easily afford box seats at each performance with all of your success these days. Or perhaps 'tis an apprentice's frugality that still lingers out of force of habit?"
    "Frugality is not a habit that I would discard as easily as some might discard a perfectly good cloak merely because it has gone slightly out of fashion," Corwin replied, with an obvious reference to Jack's brand new velvet cloak. "The habit lingers because it makes good sense, for either an apprentice
or
a journeyman, and 'tis a habit, I might add, that you might do well to emulate. Good night, sir."
    "Do you presume, then, to instruct me?" Jack called after Corwin as he left. "You are not a master guildsman
yet,
sir! It ill behooves a man to put on airs above his station!"
    "Oh, enough of that, now. Come sit down and have a drink, lads," Dickens said, good naturedly. "Gentlemen," he said, turning to the others, "allow me to present Jack Darnley and Bruce McEnery, old friends of mine from my apprentice days."
    "Well met, lads," Burbage said jovially, moving over to make room for them, though Smythe did not think that he was truly eager for their company. Nevertheless, Burbage politely introduced himself and all the other players in their group. Stackpole brought the drinks himself, giving the two apprentices a wary eye in the process. Smythe had the distinct impression that they were no more eager for the company of players than the players were to sit with them. However, Ben Dickens seemed to provide a sort of buffer between them, acting as a conversational go between in a way that seemed to lessen the tension.
    As they talked, Smythe could not decide if it was all a skillful display of diplomacy or merely a natural way that Dickens had of controlling the flow of conversation around him. The discussion centered, for the most part, on his experiences as a soldier and the things that he had seen while he was away in foreign lands. When he did not actually dominate the conversation, Dickens seemed to steer it in directions that were basically innocuous and safe, allowing the others to take part without ever losing his command of the discussion. Smythe could easily see why Ben Dickens had been so well liked by the members of the company. He possessed an easygoing charm and had a way of creating a sense of cameraderie around him. It was clear that he would have been a natural as a player. He had the way about him.
    Not so Bruce and Jack, Smythe noted. They nursed their drinks, mindful that they would only be allowed the one pint each, and as they listened to Ben talk, the envy was clearly written on their faces. In the case of Bruce, it was more than merely envy; it was spiteful resentment, and ill-concealed at that.
    Smythe thought it rather strange. Here they were,