CHAPTER 42
The following week sped past in a blur of activity. Not, strictly speaking, for Francis since he spent the whole week in bed, but for those whom he directed in writing and staging his new masque. It needed to be both witty and fresh so as not to bore Her Majesty, but it also needed to recreate the atmosphere of Essex's pageant so as to stimulate a fearful memory in the man who murdered Smythson, and thus provoke a confession.
The method was not unlike the old belief that a murderer would be exposed by fresh blood flowing from the wounds of his victim. However, Francis's version was based not on foolish superstition, but on the clear-eyed observation of human behavior under duress.
He fervently hoped it would work.
His first task was to write a letter of exquisite politeness to the Earl of Essex, begging him to forgive the impertinence of performing a pastoral masque so closely related in theme and setting to His Lordship's inimitable presentation on Queen's Day. He wrapped the letter in another of even more sensitive construction to his uncle, begging him to forward it if he considered it acceptable. Francis stood on the brink of restoration to the queen's good graces. He had no intention of undermining his path at this point.
The earl graciously responded by sending his secretary to call upon Francis in his chambers, where he was told the whole story, in confidence and for His Lordship's ears only. The secretary promised to ask the earl to send at once for the two retainers. Assuming they could still identify the man they had chased after so many weeks, their testimony would be a vital support for the case against him.
Protocol having thus been satisfied, Francis summoned his creative team. Thomas Hughes, whose play, The Misfortunes of Arthur, would comprise the centerpiece of the evening's entertainments, and Thomas Campion, a first-year student with a gift for composition, were assigned to the design and execution of sets and costumes. Francis felt secure enough confiding a part of his intentions to these two men since both were far too junior to be dreaming of Readerships yet.
Benjamin Whitt served throughout the week as an able lieutenant, a trusted confidante, and an unfailing pillar of support. He quickly learned to emulate Francis's epistolary style and took some of the simpler correspondence upon himself. He spent the better part of the week closeted in Francis's chambers, to their mutual refreshment.
Francis kept the lash applied to Mr. Clarady's back, urging him daily to obtain a statement from the limner. Francis found himself enchanted by the richness of nautical vocabulary, which he elicited from a stableman who had served at sea, and amused himself by speaking to the privateer's son in his native idiom. He fancied it kept the wind full in his sails.