WHEN BEAR FINALLY APPEARED, he fairly stumbled down the steps, bawling for his breakfast. He had not put on his split hat.
“Crispin,” he said when he saw me standing there, broom in hand, “with the widow demanding two pennies a day for our keep, it’s good to see you working. Where is the good dame?”
“In the kitchen.”
“Be so kind as to fetch her.”
When I did, she had me carry in two of her meat pies plus a tankard of ale, which I set before Bear.
“Ah, Widow,” he said with a grin, “I’m glad the boy is toiling on our bill. For the love of Christ, all need to work honestly for their bread.”
“And I trust you will too,” she said.
“So I shall,” he said, hand to his heart. “Except this morning I’ve things to which I must attend. Now, I don’t want this boy out upon the town again. It will be a mercy if you keep him busy and so reduce our debt. Can you?”
Widow Daventry, who didn’t look too pleased, wiped her hands on her vest. “There’s always work in the kitchen. Just join me when he’s done,” she said to me and started from the room. At the doorway she paused.
“Are you meeting with John Ball again?” she asked.
“Widow,” Bear returned severely with a glance at me, “less said, less to deny.”
She glared but left us alone.
“Crispin,” Bear said to me between bites of food and swallows of drink as I stood opposite him, “beyond what she tells you to do, you need to attend to your music. Practice in our room. Otherwise your sinful caterwauling will turn aside her trade.
“Now,” he said, speaking softer so only I might hear, “after None—when my business is over—you and I shall leave Great Wexly.”
“I want that, too,” I said, much relieved. “But can’t I go with you this morning?”
“It’s of no concern to yours. In any case you’ll be safer here.”
“I think someone’s spying on us,” I said.
“Explain yourself”
“Do you remember the first village we performed in? You teased a one-eyed man.”
“Did I? How?”
“You made him angry when you toyed with his mazer. What’s more, he followed us into their church. He listened when the priest told you about the boy who killed Father Quinel. And when there was talk of the reward money, he looked at me closely. And, remember? You said we’d be here this day.”
“You’ve been observant,” said Bear, attending mostly to his food. “But what of it?”
“That same young man came to the door. He looked around and went away.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded.
“Did he see you?”
“I don’t think so.”
Bear frowned. “If he’s a spy, he’s a clumsy one. If he’s after you we don’t need to worry. My business will be quickly done. You’ll stay here and keep out of sight. Then we’ll go.”
“But, Bear, I think I saw someone across the alley last night, too.”
“The same person?”
“I couldn’t tell.”
“Crispin,” he said, “for one so unwilling to see the world when first we met, perhaps you notice too much now.”
“You’ve been protecting me,” I said. “Maybe I should be protecting you.”
Bear looked around at me and grinned. “I like the thought. When I’m an old man I’ll remind you of it. But for now, be easy.”
When Bear had fairly stuffed himself with food and drunk down the remainder of his ale in one great gulp, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and rose up.
“Remember,” he said. “This time you must stay here.” Then, without any further words, he left.
I followed him out the front door and saw him stride through the crowded street.
Just to see him go off made me nervous. And sure enough, as Bear moved through the crowd, I observed the one-eyed man step out into the street and look after him.
He was not alone. A man dressed in the blue-and-gold livery of Lord Furnival’s house was with him. What’s more, the one-eyed man pointed in the direction Bear had taken.
I could have no doubt: the young man was after Bear, not me.
Even so, when the one-eyed man turned in my direction, I quickly ducked inside. What he might have done I didn’t know, because I raced down the hall to the back door and leaped out into the alley and began to run. As soon as opportunity allowed, I went to the main street, and ran in the direction Bear had gone. I had to warn him.