There were four caravans in the clearing, each brightly and individually painted with flowers and fanciful creatures and emblazoned with the words the Mallory Players. In the circle made by the drawn up wagons, a handful of people sat talking quietly around a cooking fire, watching the flames dancing in a rough stone hearth. A young woman with dark curly hair was tending the chickens roasting on a spit above the fire, slapping away an inquisitive hand and scolding the slender young man who had attempted to sneak a sliver of chicken.

“Wait until it’s done, Raphael,” she warned.

“Must we wait all night then?” he retorted, his dark brown eyes glinting in the firelight. “I’m hungry, Mariska.”

“Only until it’s cooked....”

“Remember the last time you sneaked a leg before it was ready?” another young man added. “I'm not cleaning up after you this time....”

Raphael glared at his dark haired older brother. “It was not the chicken leg, Georgiou....”

“What was it then? Acting?” Georgiou retorted. “I didn’t know you could be that convincing.”

Raphael bristled indignantly. “And what is that supposed to mean? What’s wrong with my acting?”

Mariska sighed and prodded the chicken with her knife again, hoping it would hurry up and finish cooking.

The sweet lilt of pipe music interrupted them as it drifted across the clearing, lilting lightly through the shadows. “Enough, lads,” advised the brightly clothed third man seated on a log beside the fire as he lowered the pipe. “I hear hoof beats....”

At that they all looked up sharply, listening hard. Sure enough the distant drumming of approaching horses galloping through the woods could be hard.

“That’s either someone very stupid....” murmured Georgiou, well knowing the dangers of galloping through unfamiliar woodland in the dark. 

 “Or someone in a big hurry who knows their way,” Raphael finished, reaching for the pistol beside him. Peaceful players they might be, but there were those who took exception to their presence and the woods were full of those who considered them to be prey.

“The last thing we need is trouble,” Mariska said uncomfortably, sweeping her hands down her skirts to make sure she could reach her knife easily. “Tell Tab to stay out of sight....”

Georgiou nodded and slipped to his feet, touching his brother lightly on the shoulder as they withdrew into the shadows. If they were to be attacked then they would have the advantage of concealment. They were barely gone before two riders hurtled into the clearing and reined in, clearly as startled to see them as Mariska was to recognise them,

“Turpin?” she exclaimed in shock. “Swiftnick?”

“Mariska?” Turpin gaped back at her in astonishment then flashed a hunted look over his shoulder. “No time....We’ve only got a couple of minutes before they catch us. Can you hide us? If not...”

Mariska had not come to lead her own troupe of players by dithering and she didn’t bother wasting time with stupid questions.  “Get in the wagon,” she ordered crisply, pointing at the nearest caravan. “Raphael! Hide the horses....” Raphael shot out of the shadows again as the highwaymen dismounted and were shooed into the wagon by Georgiou. Taking the reins, the young man swung onto the bay’s back and led Turpin’s mare into the trees, vanishing rapidly into the soft summer darkness.

The pipe player had taken up his instrument and was playing again as Mariska and Georgiou hastily covered up the horses’ tracks as best they could. They had barely settled back beside the fire before five armed men on horseback burst into the clearing, all of them finely dressed and clearly somewhat the worse for drink.

“You there!” their elegantly dressed leader bellowed, beckoning to Georgiou impatiently. “Have you seen two men come this way?”

“Two men? When?” Georgiou responded vaguely.

“A few minutes ago obviously. On horses....”

“Oh....can’t say as I have,” Georgiou glanced at the others. “Mariska, Gideon? You seen anyone?”

Gideon shook his head. “I'm afraid not, my lord. And we’ve been here a while...”

“The three of you?” asked one of the other men, frowning at the caravans. “There are four wagons....”

“Raphael’s checking the horses, down by the stream,” Mariska offered, the picture of sweet confusion as she gazed up at them, all dewy eyed adoration. At least two of them started preening, the third was the worse for drink and more interested in staying in the saddle.

“We’d better take a look, Chiswick,” the second man commented.

“Oh, must we?” complained the one swaying in his saddle and clad in pale pink. “You said this was going to be fun, but it’s quite ruining my coat....”

“Oh, shut up,” Chiswick snapped at him. “No one asked you to come anyway. We’re going to lose them if we check behind every bush between here and London, Chesterton....”

“Oh, I say! Are we going all the way to London?”

“Shut up!” Chiswick repeated angrily.

“Well, there’s no need to be like that,” sniffed the pale pink vision.

“You ride on then and I’ll catch you up then.”

“Oh I say! Those ruffians could shoot you!” pale pink protested.

Chiswick gave him an exasperated look. “For once, you’re right,” he said however. “We’ll all go. You there....” He jabbed a finger at Georgiou again. “You, show us where this stream is....”

Crouched in the back of the wagon behind a huge swathe of musty fabric tossed over what he suspected was a painted wooden backdrop, Dick breathed as slowly and quietly as he could, hoping their pursuers wouldn’t hear him and straining to hear what was being said outside. Beside him, Swiftnick was scrunched into the corner, pistol held loosely across his chest. The very tenseness of him told Turpin his young partner was scared.

“Easy,” Dick soothed him softly. “If anyone can throw them off our scent it’s Mariska....”

“Did you know she was here?” Swiftnick whispered.

“No. Highwayman’s luck, hmmh?”

“Highwayman’s luck that she knew us, you mean. If it’d been anyone else....”

“We’d have kept going and been no worse off,” Dick said firmly.

“I didn’t know the other man with them,” Swiftnick said.

“With Chiswick?”

“No, with Mariska....He wasn’t with them when I met her....”

“That’s Gideon Shakespear,” Dick answered. “Their playwright...”

“Shakespear?” Swiftnick echoed, awed enough to forget his alarm.  “You mean the one who....?”

“No,” Dick said in amusement. “It’s what he calls himself, I have no idea what his real name is. Hush....” He warned his partner to silence and took a tighter grip on his own pistol as he heard movement beside the caravan. Mariska’s quiet voice carried softly to his straining ears.

“Georgiou’s taken them down to the stream. You’d better stay where you are for now....And you’d better have a good explanation for this....”

Dick smiled ruefully as he heard her move away again. Knowing Mariska she wouldn't accept ‘It wasn’t my fault’ as an answer.

“What do we do if they come back?” Swiftnick fretted.

“Fight our way out and make a run for it down to the stream and the horses,” Dick said succinctly. “We make out we were holding pistols on Mariska to make them help us....But they won’t come back...” Turpin shifted position, moving to lean his back against the side of the wagon so he could see Swiftnick without craning his neck. Swiftnick wasn't looking convinced. “Look, they didn’t think to look in the wagons,” Dick pointed out. “If it occurs to them they should have done, they’ll think we’re long gone and not bother to search. None of them are sober enough to be a problem.”

“They came close enough to catching us to be a problem....” Swiftnick pointed out sourly.

Turpin grimaced. “How was I to know Lord Chiswick would walk into the blasted pub and recognise us?” he complained.

“Expect the unexpected you always say....”

Dick glared at him. “Don’t start with me, Swiftnick. Now is not the time....”

Swiftnick snorted and rested his head back against a handy fold of curtain fabric, settling down as comfortably as he could for what he suspected would be a long wait. They had been on horseback practically since the night before; first there had been the coach they had held up, then Spiker and his dragoons had chased and nearly caught them and then when they finally managed to give him the slip Chiswick and his companions had walked into the pub and set off another pursuit. Their chances of finding anywhere to hole up safely in unfamiliar territory were unlikely to say the least and he was tired and hungry and a bit scared....

“Get some sleep, Swiftnick. I’ll keep watch,” Dick said gruffly, surprising the youth into thinking he was reading his mind again.  “It’ll be all right...”

Turpin wasn’t sure how long he waited silently in the musty darkness of the caravan. Swiftnick had fallen asleep and Dick had folded a length of curtain over him without disturbing him. The older highwayman was half dozing when the caravan jostled slightly and he came instantly awake, scooping up his pistol from the floor beside him. No need to hug it all night and risk firing off a shot by accident if his trigger finger twitched...

“Dick?” Mariska called softly. “Are you there?”

Dick laughed softly, easing forward enough to see her outlined faintly against the firelight at the back of the caravan. “Did you think I’d vanish away?”

“I half hoped you would. You’re nothing but trouble.....”

“As soon as we’re sure Chiswick’s gone, we’ll be off and away,” Turpin answered.

“Why was Chiswick after you?”

“It’s a long story, but he recognised us....”

“It can wait then. I brought you some food and something to drink. Georgiou’s come back and says Chiswick and the others have gone. Raphael was going to follow them to make sure they didn’t double back. But you’d better stay where you are for now...”

“Fair enough,” Dick eased forward to take the cloth wrapped bundle of food and wine bottle. He took a quick pull of the wine, glad of something to wash out his dry mouth.

“Where’s Swiftnick?”

“Asleep....I told him I’d keep watch.”

“Neither of you are hurt?”

“We’re fine....”

“All right then. Gideon’s going to keep watch until Raphael comes back. If you hear him playing his pipe, stay down. Good night.....”

“Good night, love....” Dick grinned as she sniffed at that and listened to the swish of her skirts as she moved away from the caravan. Squeezing back behind the backdrop, he examined the contents of the bundle; chicken, bread, cheese and a couple of apples. Dividing the food in half, he rewrapped one lot for Swiftnick and settled back to eat the rest. The last time he had eaten anything had been the night before they went on the robbery. After that there had been no time. He ate quickly and drank sparingly of the wine, then settled down to sleep while he could. For now they were safe enough, but if Chiswick came back, they might need to make another run for it...

Swiftnick woke reluctantly the next morning, gingerly uncurling from the cramped position he found himself in. He was alone in the back of the caravan, Turpin having apparently vanished although he had left his cloak behind. Outside he could hear voices and a sudden burst of laughter which told him at least that he was in no immediate danger. Sitting up a bit more, he found the wineskin and bundle Dick had left beside him and tugged open the loose knot. His stomach startled rumbling the second he discovered the food and he bit into the apple first in delight, then took a quick mouthful of the wine before stuffing his mouth hungrily with the chicken. The food vanished quickly and, after a final inspection to make sure he hadn’t missed anything, he squirmed out from behind the backdrop into the main part of the caravan. In the light pouring in from the open door at the back, he was startled by the jumble of boxes and trunks, of strange costumes and wigs suspended from every available hook. There was a stack of painted boards leaning precariously against the side of the wagon, one of them of a seascape with an improbably well endowed mermaid that immediately drew the youth’s earnest and fascinated attention.

“Ah hah, an art connoisseur are you?” a friendly male voice asked lightly, startling him into looking round wildly. The speaker was leaning on the side of the caravan door, smiling at him amiably. He was about Dick’s age, brown haired with sparkling blue eyes set in a square jawed roguishly handsome face. “I myself am a connoisseur of the real thing....”

“Of mermaids?” Swiftnick, who suspected such creatures didn’t exist, wondered.

“No. Of pretty young creatures such as yourself.”

Swiftnick’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

The smile widened. “Would you like me to explain it to you? Or perhaps a demonstration is called for? Come a little closer, my sweet...”

“I've got a pistol....” Swiftnick warned warily.

“Really?” came the teasing reply. “And so young too....”

Swiftnick felt his face warm with a blush without quite knowing why. “Who are you?” he demanded belligerently.

“I'm Gideon. And you, I think, are the ram’s lamb....A juicy young....”

“Gideon! You keep your sticky mitts off him!” Turpin’s strangled screech made Swiftnick let out a silent breath of relief.

 Gideon grinned, his blue eyes twinkling. “Surely not jealous, Richard?” he asked as Turpin loomed up behind him.

“You so much as leer at him and I’ll settle you,” Dick growled in warning.

“Ooh. Promise?”

“Pervert....” Turpin snarled.

“How do you know?” Swiftnick asked inquisitively however.

“What?” Gideon and Turpin both looked at him in surprise.

“Well, how do you know he’s a pervert?” Swiftnick pressed, nodding at Gideon. “What does he do?”

Gideon’s jaw dropped and he floundered while Turpin gave his partner a dumbfounded look that quickly shifted into a glare. “You’re so sharp you’ll cut yourself,” Dick grumbled.

            “I was only asking,” Swiftnick protested with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Gideon however suddenly exploded into a joyous laugh of appreciation. “Dick, you have found yourself a veritable treasure. Swiftnick is a swift wit it would seem....”

“Say that after you’ve had a drink or two,” Turpin snorted at him. “Come out of there, Swiftnick.”

Swiftnick picked his way to the end of the caravan and hopped down to the grass. Hopefully Dick wouldn't realise he had been ogling the mermaid’s charms and he would escape a lecture. “Are we going?” he wondered.

“Not yet. You want breakfast?” Dick grinned as Swiftnick’s stomach rumbled loudly. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he chuckled as the youth flushed in chagrin. Shooting another warning glare at Gideon, Turpin led the way towards the hearth where Mariska was handing round slices of ham and fried potatoes. Raphael was back and sitting cross legged on the grass, drinking coffee between bites of food.

“I followed Chiswick back to his manor and watched him and the others go inside. I waited for a while to make sure they weren’t going to make another move, then came back here,” he explained when Swiftnick asked.

“Didn’t they spot our horses?” the youth fretted.

Raphael shook his head. “I dabbed a bit of mud on Toby’s markings and hid Black Bess in the trees. Give her an apple and that mare is as good as gold.”

“Bribery,” Dick snorted, flashing a smile at Mariska as she handed him a platter of food.

“Something you’re good at,” she retorted. “What have you been up to, to make him chase you?”

“I told you, he recognised us at the pub. Him and his mates were on a bit of a pub crawl and fancied chasing us for the reward I suppose...” Dick answered innocently.

“And why did he recognise you?” she pressed

“Ah.....”

“I knew it. You robbed him!”

“Only a little....” Dick protested.

“He didn’t have much on him.....” Swiftnick put in helpfully without looking up from his fried potatoes.

Mariska’s dark eyes narrowed as she shot a look at the youth. “Dick....” she grumbled reproachfully.

“What? We’re highwaymen. It’s what we do...”

“You told me you were giving it up....”

“I did no such thing....”

“You said you were going to run a pub!”

“No, I said I was thinking of running a pub eventually.....” Dick argued evasively.

“I don’t know why I bother!” she exclaimed, throwing up her hands in exasperation.

“You love me really,” Dick teased.

“I do no such thing!”

“You hid us....”

“I hid Swiftnick,” Mariska retorted. “You happened to be with him....”

“Oh, I'm hurt, love....”

“You’re a bad influence on that boy....”

Dick grinned at her. “Highwayman....”

“As if that’s an excuse!”

“Well, what do you expect? I do my best. But I’m only a lonely man tossed on the winds of fate.....” Dick declaimed, pressing one hand to his chest as she glared at him.

“Ooh, that’s good one. Let me get that down....tossed on the winds of fate....” Gideon fished out a scrap of paper and a charcoal stick that Swiftnick was to learn he was never without.

“You’re incorrigible!” Mariska groaned. “Don’t encourage him, Gideon.”

Gideon glanced up from his scribbling with a grin. “In my experience, he doesn’t need any encouragement....except....”

“Not in front of the boy,” Dick interrupted hastily.

“Oi....” Swiftnick protested.

“...because if you do you can explain it to him. He’s got a knack for asking awkward questions....” Turpin finished as Gideon opened his mouth to argue. Catching Turpin’s expression, Gideon closed his mouth again with a thoughtful expression.

“So,” Raphael said hastily. “What are you going to do now?”

Swiftnick looked up, interested in the answer to that one himself. Dick pursed his lips consideringly. “Tricky one that,” he admitted. “Spiker’s got his dragoons out looking for us, so we need to lay low for a while. Can’t go back to the pub. Chiswick might get the idea of looking for us there....” He paused, cocking a casual eye at Mariska. “Swiftnick? Any ideas?”

Swiftnick gave him an alarmed look. “No....”

“We can probably find a cave or something; keep ourselves from starving for a while at least with a bit of hunting.....” Dick mused.

“Oh for...!” Mariska exploded. “Don’t think you can get round me that way!”

“Whatever do you mean?” Dick exclaimed.  

“I'm not having him staying in a cave!” Mariska snapped, pointing at a startled Swiftnick. “You’ll stay with us for a while. No, smirking, Turpin!”

“Smirking? Me? As if I would!” Dick protested.

“Hah! You asked for it....” As Mariska turned away, heading towards one of the caravans, Dick turned to wink at Swiftnick.

“Is that a good idea?” Swiftnick whispered nervously.

Turpin’s grin widened. “It’s a perfect idea. No one will be looking for two highwaymen with the Mallory Players.”

Swiftnick frowned.  “The....?”

“Named after Sir Willoughby Mallory himself,” Dick chuckled smugly. “I was in disguise when I first met......” he paused, noting the way Swiftnick’s eyes widened. With sudden suspicion, Dick turned to look behind him to see what Mariska was up to. It wasn't Mariska that was going to be the problem he realised however, but the trim, delightfully pretty strawberry blonde tripping towards them across the grass. “Who is that?” Dick choked, shooting a dismayed look at the stunned expression on Swiftnick’s face.

“Our new ingénue,” Gideon said cheerfully.

“Ingénue?” Dick moaned.

“Tabitha Scott,” Raphael put in. “She’s about your age, Swiftnick....”

Turpin made a gurgling noise reminiscent of a drowning man, staring at the smirk on Mariska’s face as she introduced the girl to them.

Tabitha gave Turpin a considering look and then promptly sat on the grass beside Swiftnick. “You can call me Tab,” she told him brightly as she arranged her skirts carefully.

“Nick.....” Swiftnick managed.

“I didn’t know anyone else was joining us,” she commented. “Are you an actor too?” she asked curiously.

“Er....” Swiftnick wasn’t quite sure how to answer that and shot a pleading look at Turpin.

Turpin glowered back at him. He was not about to help his apprentice one little bit when it came to this young....floozy.

Mariska was kinder. “He’s considering it. He’s going to be helping us with the props and stage dressing and so on for now. Dick is an actor....”

Turpin shot a quick glare at her and she smiled back sweetly. “Somewhat....” he muttered darkly.

“But he and Nick will both be helping out until the others come back.”

“Others?” Dick looked up sharply.

“They went on ahead to Bucksby Ford. We’re going to the fair there,” Raphael explained, rising to his feet and stretching. “I’d better go and help Georgiou with the horses if we’re moving soon?”

Mariska nodded. “Dick and Nick can ride the prop wagon. I dare say your horses could do with a rest, Dick?”

Turpin rose to his own feet. “Wouldn’t hurt. We’d better take a look at them,” he agreed. “Nick, that means you too...” The last thing he as going to do was leave Swiftnick anywhere near such a temptation as Tabitha.

Swiftnick dragged his eyes away from Tabitha as she helped herself to breakfast and scrambled up to join him. Tabitha barely noticed them go. “Don’t you think she’s beautiful?” he murmured as soon as they were out of hearing range.

“Who?” Dick asked amiably.

“Tabitha!”

“Oh, her. Passably pretty I suppose....”

Swiftnick gave him an aghast look. “Passably....” he choked.

“I've seen prettier.....”

Raphael shot a look over his shoulder at them as Swiftnick gurgled and with a broad grin he strode hastily on ahead.

“But she’s beautiful.....” Swiftnick insisted.

Dick raised an eyebrow at him. “She’s pretty now, yes, but she’s got no bone structure.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” Swiftnick demanded hotly.

“If she had bone structure, it’d be different....That’s the kind of beauty that stays. She’s pretty because she's young.....Though not as young as she pretends I suspect....”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Swiftnick grumbled.

“Probably got no conversation either. Struck me as the vacuous type....”

“I didn’t think she was er....” Swiftnick floundered.

“Means empty headed....Much like someone else I could mention.”

Swiftnick glared at him. “She’s an actress.....She’s got to be able to remember her lines....”

“Or smile sweetly and look flustered a lot...Looks adorable and is instantly forgiven...” Dick retorted. “I've seen her kind before. Latches on to the first available male for protection. And I noticed she ignored me.”

“That’s because you’re.....” Swiftnick was going to say old but hastily thought better of it as Turpin turned a gimlet eye on him.

“Yes....?” Dick prompted forbiddingly.

“Unavailable.....”

“Nice answer,” Turpin snorted. “Even if you are lying. You were going to say old....”

“I wouldn’t dare....”

“But you’d think it....” Dick said dryly. “You want to watch her....” He paused thoughtfully. “Actually no, you’re going to be doing that anyway. Let me rephrase it.....you make sure you don’t let her make any trouble for you.”

Swiftnick frowned. “I don’t see how she could....” he said in bewilderment.

“That, Swiftnick, is because you don’t know anything about conniving little minxes like her,” Dick said solemnly. “And I hope you stay that way.”

“She’s not....”

“And you know that because you had a long and involved conversation with her, did you?”

Swiftnick flushed. “You didn’t even speak to her....” he challenged.

Turpin sighed. “No,” he admitted. “But a nice young girl would have spoken to me. Instead she ignored me completely.” Swiftnick opened his mouth to argue again and then paused. Turpin did have a point there.  “Besides, we won’t be staying with Mariska that long.  So, we don’t have time for you to fall in love....”

“I'm not going to fall in love!”

Dick sighed heavily. “Ah, if only we could all decide that, things would be so much simpler.”

Swiftnick glared at him and stomped on ahead, picking his way down the bank to the sheltering stand of trees where the horses had been tethered for the night beside the rush fringed stream. Georgiou looked up from eating the breakfast Raphael had brought him and waved a hand in greeting.

Ambling after his young partner, Dick smiled to himself and stretched lazily in the warmth of the sweet summer air. He doubted if flirting with Tabitha would do Swiftnick much harm.  He was a sensible enough lad to see through any airs and graces she might have soon enough. As long as she didn't find out who they were, everything should be fine.

                                                            * * *

“So, this is Bucksby Ford,” Swiftnick commented as he drove the caravan through the shallow waters of the stream and let the horse haul it up the gentle slope on the far side. Ahead of them a little further down the track was the sprawl of houses that was the village, while off to their right on the meadow the tents and stalls of the fair were being set up. They were following Mariska’s caravan as she led the way, while Gideon, Raphael and Georgiou brought the final two wagons and the horses along behind.

Dick, who was lazing back in his seat with his arms folded across his chest and his feet up on the footboard while he dozed, opened a lazy eye to look. “That’s it,” he agreed, sitting up with a yawn. “Nice little place, friendly people. Good pubs.”

“You've been here before?” Swiftnick wondered, shoving back the lopsided circlet of flowers he was wearing before it poked him in the eye. Mariska had brought them an armful of flower chains and garlands that she and Tabitha had made up and insisted that they both wear them. Swiftnick’s circlet was made up of bright blue flowers and Mariska had teased him, telling him that it matched his eyes and that he was to toss the other garlands to any girls he fancied. “It’s traditional,” she had reminded a spluttering Turpin before she went on to give garlands to her brothers and Gideon.

Dick nodded. “This fair’s one of Mariska’s regular stops.” He grinned as a gaggle of children erupted into view and came racing down the track, squealing and laughing and waving in greeting. Ahead of them, Mariska and Tabitha tossed handfuls of sweets to them as they clustered around the caravan. Dick waved as they went past, keeping a careful eye on them to make sure no children disappeared under the wheels as Swiftnick slowed the caravan to be on the safe side.

Soon, they were following Mariska as she turned onto the meadow heading across the flower speckled grass towards the shade of the trees where a makeshift stage was being put up. “I thought we’d have to build that,” Swiftnick commented, pointing it out to his partner.

“The villagers know what she wants here. If not, the players make do with what’s available. Bit tricky to carry an entire stage around with you....” He broke off, realising that Swiftnick had spotted a couple of pretty girls gossiping as they wandered through the fair. They glanced up at the caravans as they went by, pointing at the fanciful pictures painted on the sides. One of them dug her elbow in her friend’s side as they saw Swiftnick looking at them and the two of them giggled together.

With a grin, Swiftnick scooped up a couple of the garlands from the seat beside him and tossed them to the girls. There was another explosion of giggles as they both scrambled to catch them and then wave as the caravan lumbered past. Delighted, Swiftnick craned round the side of the caravan to wave back then hastily turned his attention back to the horse.

Turpin glowered at him. “Are you going to flirt with every girl you see?” he demanded impatiently.

Swiftnick opened his mouth to deny it indignantly, then suddenly laughed. “Yes!” he chirped in youthful pleasure. “Why not? It’s what they expect. I have a role to play!”

For once Dick was lost for words. He could hardly argue with Swiftnick when he was right. “Watch where you’re going,” he ordered instead and did his best to ignore Swiftnick’s smug expression.

Following Mariska’s directions, they halted their caravan alongside the bigger one and Swiftnick slid down from the sea to tend the horse while Dick ambled over to find out what she had planned for them to do next. Mariska was talking to two of the men who were helping to build their stage.

“It’s almost ready,” the younger of the two was saying, pausing to wave to her brothers as they pulled in behind Gideon. “A few finishing touches and then we can set up the curtains.”

“Lovely,” Mariska said approvingly, casting a critical eye over the stage. “Ah, Dick, there you are,” she said as she noticed Turpin.

“Was I supposed to be somewhere else?” Turpin responded amiably. “I don’t remember there being so many young girls the last time I was here.”

Mariska chuckled. “That’s because they’re a bit bigger now and you never had any interest in them until Nick came along....”

“And started attracting them like wasps,” Dick muttered.

“Wasps to honey,” Mariska said lightly. “Now, Dick, this is Tobias McCall,” she indicated the young brown haired man who responded with an outthrust hand and a friendly grin. “And Obadiah Toop.” The older, weather beaten man nodded shortly, managing a polite smile that never reached his oddly pale blue eyes.

“Richard Turner,” Turpin responded smoothly.

“Dick’s an actor. He’s ridden with us before,” Mariska explained. “He and Nick.....” She hesitated uncertainly.

“Nicholas Smythe,” Dick said blandly. “I acquired him as an apprentice actor, although he hasn’t shown much aptitude as yet. He’s a good willing lad though, eager to learn...” Toop gave him a funny look, grunted and turned back to his hammer and nails.

“Obadiah’s all right, but he doesn’t say much,” Tobias confided quietly. “I’d better go and find out which backdrops Gideon wants to use.”

As Tobias loped off, Dick followed Mariska back towards the wagons. “So what do they do?”

“Obadiah mostly builds the sets and looks after things. He stays in the background. I’ll never get him on the stage. Tobias joined us as a carpenter, but he’s a dab hand at painting. He took to acting like a duck to water,” she chuckled.

“What?” Dick eyed her warily.

“I thought I had my hands full with him and Raphael, now with Nick I have a blond to add to the mix,” she said in amusement. “Poor Georgiou will have another one to stand guard over.”

Dick snorted. “Swiftnick won’t be going anywhere where I can’t watch him,” he growled.

“Oh, let him have a little fun,” Mariska protested. “He’s young. You can’t expect him to be careful all the time.”

“Oh yes, I can. It keeps him and me alive,” Turpin retorted sourly. “Where is he anyway?”

Mariska looked around in surprise, seeing no sign of him. “I don’t see Tabitha either,” she admitted, puzzled.

“Georgiou!” Turpin hailed, striding towards where the dark haired young man was picketing the horses in the shade. “Have you seen Nick?”

“Aye, Gideon sent him and Tab into the village to start handing out the flyers,” Georgiou answered, patting the bay horse beside him. “They’ll be back once they satisfy their curiosity....”

“What curiosity?” Dick squawked.

“About the village,” Georgiou said blandly, giving him an innocent look. “What did you think I meant?”

“Oh er.....” Dick glared at him, counting Mariska in for good measure. “Did you arrange that?” he hissed at her.

“Me?” Mariska fluttered her dark eyelashes at him. “As if I would send off a poor innocent creature like that....with such a dangerous one as Tabitha....”

Turpin caught his tongue on his response. “Are you being sarcastic?” he demanded suspiciously instead.

“Well, how much trouble do you think he can get into?” she demanded in exasperation. “They’re only going for a walk in the village.”

Dick laughed mirthlessly. “You don’t know him the way I do,” he snorted.

“You can't keep him on too tight a rein for goodness sake. And you certainly can’t go after him without making both of you look like fools.”

Dick, who had been considering doing exactly that, hesitated.

“Besides, I promise you Tabitha won’t debauch him....” Mariska said primly, turning her heel on him and marching off with head held high.

“Nooo, she wouldn't do that,” Georgiou commented in amusement. “She won’t have time to do it properly.”

Turpin gave him a startled look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Georgiou grinned ruefully. “Let’s say, she’s not the little innocent she pretends to be. But I wouldn’t worry about Swiftnick. I think she’d prefer something with a bit more experience....”

“How’d she join you anyway?”

“She was on her way to London by stagecoach, but ran out of money. Mariska, being a soft touch and horrified by the idea of her going to London on her own, suggested she stayed with us until she could afford the stagecoach. She's not been with us long.”

“Long enough for you to get her measure.”

Georgiou shrugged. “If you ask me, she was running away. Under all those sweet looks, she’s a calculating little thing.”

“Not as young as she looks either,” Dick commented.

“No,” Georgiou agreed, meeting his eyes. “So, you watch Raphael for me and I’ll watch Swiftnick for you. Deal?”

“Deal,” Dick grinned in agreement. “Not including Gideon in that?”

“Gideon can take better care of himself than either of us can,” Georgiou retorted. “Care to give me a hand brushing down the horses? Unless you’d prefer stage building....”

“Clearly you have never seen me attempting to kill myself with a hammer,” Dick retorted dryly. “Why do you think I became a highwayman? Horses I can cope with....”

                                                            * * *

Swiftnick was a little startled to be sent off into the village with Tabitha. But Georgiou assured him he didn’t mind looking after the horse for him and nudged him in the ribs with a wink, urging him not to keep Tabitha waiting. Besides, he couldn’t resist sneaking off when Turpin wasn’t looking. It was only a few minutes walk across the meadow, made longer by Tabitha’s habit of stopping to smell and pick the flowers to wave under Swiftnick’s nose. He had managed to lose the circlet Mariska had given him, but by the time a giggling Tabitha had finished with him he had several new flowers tucked into his blond curls.

 “So, do we hand the flyers to people or what?” he wondered as they entered the village between two small half timbered cottages.

“We give them out and pin a few up where we can,” Tabitha answered brightly. “Mostly we talk to everyone and tell them we’re here. Obadiah and Tobias will have been telling people we’re coming anyway.”

“You've done this before?”

“Oh er....a few times, yes. That’s what Gideon said to do anyway,” she said, nodding hastily.

“Do we tell them what play you’re doing?”

Tabitha blushed. “I don’t know which one it is yet,” she admitted. “Gideon and Mariska haven’t decided.”

Swiftnick frowned, glancing at the top one of the flyers he had been carrying while Tabitha was prancing around picking flowers. It looked like the ones he had seen in other villages when the fair was coming; the name of the Mallory Players and a list of what Dick referred to as ‘the usual twaddle’ about the actors and the spectacular plays they would be performing. “Is that usual?” he wondered curiously. He was sure the flyers he’d seen before usually listed at least one play, sometimes more. People liked to know what they were going to see.

Tabitha shot a quick, sharp look at him, a faint frown crossing her pretty features. “No,” she said shortly. “When I asked Gideon said he wanted to see what the villagers’ mood was like before he decided.” She rushed on as Swiftnick gave her a puzzled look. “There’s the pub. We can ask to put up some flyers in there. The innkeeper will pass the word along too....”

As she bustled on ahead, Swiftnick paused to make sure the flowers were all brushed out of his hair. The girls might like it, but he was quite sure any lads who saw them would taunt him and that would only lead to a fight and another of Turpin’s interminable lectures about keeping his head down. Besides, he didn’t actually need warning to stay out of trouble.

“Are you coming or not?” Tabitha called impatiently from the pub door.

Swiftnick smiled vaguely and hurried after her. He had a feeling that Tabitha’s high-handed attitude was going to get on his nerves before long. He’d have liked to have a look round the village before heading to the pub, but an ale wouldn't go amiss after the caravan journey.

                                                            * * *

Turpin had a scowl for his apprentice when Swiftnick and Tabitha returned to the caravans, but refrained from yelling at him until the girl was out of the way and then took the youth to one side. “And what did you get up to?” he demanded as they sat on the steps of their caravan.

“Er, nothing much,” Swiftnick answered warily. “We stuck a few flyers up and talked to the innkeeper.”

“Did you see anyone you know?”

“No. Was I supposed to?”

“No dragoons?”

“No. I didn’t tell anyone who I was either. And I didn’t ask if there were any coaches coming to the fair. And I didn’t act suspicious.”

Dick gazed at him silently for a long moment, then let out a quiet sigh of relief. “All right then...”

“Did you expect me to?” Swiftnick demanded impatiently.

For a moment, the highwayman looked shifty then he gave him a rueful smile. “Actually, yes,” he admitted, hurrying on as Swiftnick bristled indignantly. “All right, you know better, but you had a pretty girl to impress and I know what you’re like for showing off.”

“I do not!”

Dick snorted. “Of course you do. I’d wonder what’s wrong with you if you didn’t,” he commented in amusement. “Ease down, lad. I don’t suppose anyone would notice if you did ask about any coaches. They’d only think you wanted to find out who might be coming to the play.”

“Oh, I never thought of that,” Swiftnick admitted thoughtfully. “You mean I should’ve....?”

“No!” Dick interrupted hastily, shooting a wary look round to see if they were being overheard. “I don’t want you to even think about coaches while we’re with Mariska. She’d kill me!”

“Really?” Swiftnick murmured, all innocence.

Turpin glared at him. “And don’t think you can drop me in it with her either. She's wise to your tricks already.”

Swiftnick pulled a face at him. “So what am I allowed to do?”

“I thought you were going to entertain yourself flirting with Tab?” Turpin teased.

“I said allowed,” Swiftnick reminded him hotly. “Besides, she’s not my sort.”

“Oh? How hard did she hit you?”

“She didn’t hit me!” Swiftnick yelped in indignant protest. “She’s a know it all, too pushy....And a tease. And I think she prefers older men anyway....”

“Older men?” Dick said curiously.

“Yes, anyone who looks rich anyway. Everyone she talked to in the village was male. And there was some man at the pub, all dressed up in his finery like a gentleman. She spent about ten minutes talking to him. She said it was about the players.”

“But you didn’t believe her? Not jealous, are you?”

Swiftnick frowned, ignoring Turpin’s teasing and remembering how Tabitha had sat close beside the gentleman, their heads together as they whispered. “The odd thing was, she wasn’t really sort of flirting with him. It was more like they knew each other, sort of whispering to each other...”

“You couldn’t hear what they were saying?”

Swiftnick shook his head. “The pub was too noisy and I didn’t want to seem suspicious. Besides I was talking to the innkeeper. Do you know he’s called George?”

“Popular name,” Dick pointed out absently, musing over who Tabitha might know.

“But George Georgeson of the Royal George in George Lane of George Square?”

Turpin blinked and gave the youth a startled look. “You’re having me on....”

“Nope. He was named for his father and his father owned the pub before him. Apparently, he was very popular and they kept naming things after him. There’s also a King Harry pub on the other side of the village, a Harry Street and a Harry Square.” Swiftnick grinned impishly. “Apparently the villagers are not very original but very loyal to the king. Oh, and there’s a baker on Baker Lane that does very good pies.”

“Ah. So you won’t be hungry for your dinner then,” Dick observed, bemused by all the information Swiftnick seemed to have discovered. He knew his way around the village from his previous visit with the players, but he had to admit he hadn't paid much attention to the names.

“It was a small fruit pie!” Swiftnick protested. “That’s not dinner....”

Turpin chuckled. “We’re going to the Royal George to eat,” he soothed. 

“Oh, that’s all right then,” Swiftnick sighed in relief, then frowned. “Dick, there was something else....”

“All right. What did you do?”

“Why do you always think I've done something?!”

“It saves time....”

“Well, I didn’t!  Someone else had been putting up flyers....”

“Probably Tobias and Obadiah....”

“Not unless they’ve been putting up flyers for someone else. These were in the name of the Hardwick Players. They were all over the place. And they look new.”

Dick frowned. “Now that Mariska will want to know about....”

“Ah hah! There you are. You’ve been hiding from me, haven’t you?” Gideon cooed as he appeared around the side of the caravan and startled Turpin so much he almost fell off his seat.

“Don’t sneak up on me like that!” he roared at him.

“Tsk, Richard, don’t tell me I managed to surprise you!”

“Next time I’ll shoot you!” Turpin shot a glare at a grinning Swiftnick. “What do you want anyway?” he snarled.

“For the two of you to pop over to my wagon with me, of course,” Gideon responded sweetly.

“Why?” Turpin growled suspiciously.

“For your fitting....”

“What fitting?” Dick asked warily.

“You can’t represent the Mallory Players looking like that,” Gideon said disdainfully, waving a hand at the highwayman’s clothes. “Mariska told me to find you both something suitable to wear for the pub. I found a lovely blue jacket for you, Nick. And a delicious russet for you, Dick...”

                                                            * * *

“The Hardwick Players?” Georgiou echoed when Swiftnick, prompted by Turpin, told them about the flyers at the inn over dinner. He shot a wary glance at Mariska who had stiffened in her seat. “Maybe they’re old flyers....”

“They looked new to me,” Swiftnick assured him around a mouthful of peas. He and Dick were sharing a table with Mariska and Georgiou while the others had a larger one on the other side of the tap room.

“You know them then?” Dick asked.

“Oh, we know them,” Mariska said grimly. “They’re run by Benjamin Hardwick, the actor....”

There was something in the way she said actor that made Georgiou wince and Dick shoot a quick look at him. “You’re not gong to start throwing things again, are you?” Georgiou asked warily. 

“No,” Mariska answered icily, savagely stabbing her roast beef.

“I wonder why Tab didn't mention them,” Georgiou said casually. 

Eyeing Mariska warily, Dick suspected it was sheer self preservation.

“She was too busy flirting to notice them,” Swiftnick observed sourly.

Mariska frowned at him. “That’s only to get the men interested in coming to the play,” she told him sternly. “And I dare say you did a bit of flirting of your own.”

Swiftnick ducked his head and hastily turned his attention back to his meal before Turpin could comment. Dick however hid a grin behind his napkin.

“At least we’re here before Hardwick this time,” Georgiou said cautiously, attempting to soothe Mariska’s temper. “And he won’t know what play we’re doing....”

Mariska sniffed. “But he knows we’re coming....”

“Maybe not. Did the flyers say where they were performing, Nick?” Georgiou asked.

Swiftnick shook his head. “There was a lot of waffle about classics and awe inspiring tragedy and stuff, but no play name. It sounded boring. Nothing I’d want to go and see anyway.”

“Would you know the name of any plays?” Dick asked dryly.

Swiftnick shot a glare at him. “I should do, Glenrae blathers on about enough of them.”

“Hardwick is very into tragedy,” Mariska commented sourly. “They also do myths and tableaux....”

“An odd combination,” Dick noted cautiously, taking note of her tone of voice.

“We’ve seen tableaux,” Swiftnick piped up.

“No, we haven’t....” Dick told him flatly.

“Yes, we have. Madame Desiree and her....”  Swiftnick was silenced by the hand Dick slapped over his mouth.

“That’s enough out of you. You’re imagining things.”

Mariska gave Turpin a frosty look. “You took him to see Madame Desiree?!” she prompted coldly.

“No, not at all.....” Dick denied it as Swiftnick wriggled free.

“Yes, we did!” Swiftnick insisted. “You remember, there was that one with all the mermaids and you offered to help the blonde one whose shells nearly fell off.....” He paused, realising from the murderous look Turpin was giving him that he had said the wrong thing as usual. “Um....it was all very er tasteful and er.....educational?” 

“I’ll bet it was educational,” Georgiou chuckled, then hastily hid his grin in his tankard as Mariska glared at him.

“It was an accident. We walked into the pub halfway through the performance,” Dick said hastily as she swung back to him. “We could hardly have walked out. It would have been rude....”

“So you let him watch?” she demanded, nodding at Swiftnick.

“What was I supposed to do? Make him wait in the stable? It was cold....”

“While you presumably stayed inside and watched? To make sure they weren’t dangerous of course....” Mariska snapped.

“It was artistic. She said so....” Swiftnick offered desperately.

Turpin drew himself up. “He’s got to learn sometime,” he said flatly. “And it was artistic....well, mostly. I've seen worse....” Mariska glared at him. “Looking won’t do him any harm.”  Mariska took a deep breath. “And we were talking about Hardwick....” Dick added hastily.

“Him!” she spat in disgust. “That puffed up popinjay!”

“You’re not keen on him then?” the highwayman asked warily.

“No, I am not!” Mariska retorted. “When he’s not poaching my players, he’s taking our spot at the fairs by sneaking in early and doing the same play as we were planning on doing. Three times he’s asked Gideon to join him! Last time he saw us, he sent one of those trollops of his after Georgiou to persuade him to join his troupe.” Dick shot a quick look at Georgiou who winked and then looked suitably virtuous when Mariska gave him a suspicious glance. “The man’s totally unscrupulous. I'm surprised he didn’t get here first this time. No doubt he’s got something planned.”

“Probably,” Georgiou agreed. “But he’s got no one like Gideon to write new plays for him. And now we’ve got Dick with us, I’m sure he’ll know how to deal with his tricks.”

Turpin raised an eyebrow at him. “I'm not sure whether that’s a compliment or an insult,” he said dryly.

Georgiou grinned at him. “Whatever...” he said cheerfully and after a moment Turpin smiled back ruefully.

“I could have a little chat with him....” he suggested.

“A chat....?” Swiftnick wondered. “We could hold him up....”

“Sssshhh,” Dick hissed sharply.

“But we could....” Swiftnick argued.

Turpin shot a quick look at Mariska’s disapproving expression and sighed. “I know we could, but we’re not gong to,” he said firmly.

“Why not?” Swiftnick demanded impatiently.

“There is such a thing as reasoned discussion, you know....” Dick told him in exasperation.

“Huh?”

“Hardwick hasn’t actually done anything wrong,” Mariska told Swiftnick grimly. “Annoyed us, interfered with us, made a nuisance of himself.....” Georgiou made a small sound as her tone sharpened and she shot a quick look at him and sighed. “But he hasn’t actually done anything harmful, only unscrupulous.”

“What we need to do is play him at his own game,” Dick said thoughtfully.

“How?” Mariska asked darkly. “The one thing he does have is money. We can’t afford to lure his actors away. And I'm sure he been paying bribes to attract people.”

“Bribes?” Dick echoed curiously.

Mariska nodded gloomily. “Some of the gentry like to have a performance put on for them. Hardwick always seems to get them recently. You know how it goes, slip a few coins in the right hand and their name gets mentioned instead of ours when the gentry wants a play.”

“That’s not fair,” Swiftnick blurted as Turpin frowned pensively.

Mariska shrugged. “I did not say it was,” she admitted, then broke off, looking up at Raphael as he came over to their table. “Everything all right?” she asked.

“Fine. George was wondering if we were going to sing for him,” Raphael answered. “Tab and Tobias don’t mind doing a duet. And Gideon said he’d do a prologue.”

“All right then, we will. Raphael, did George mention the Hardwick players to you?”

Raphael grimaced. “He did,” he admitted. “But nothing good. They were here a while back, but refused to perform in the pub. They didn’t make themselves popular in the village either apparently. According to George they drink too much and fight too much and make too free with the women.”

“A lesson for you,” Dick told his partner sternly.

“Me?!” Swiftnick exclaimed indignantly. “I'm not the one who personally knows every inn maid from here to....” He shut up at the dirty look Turpin gave him.  “Is that one of the things I'm not supposed to mention?” he asked, all wide eyed innocence.

“Are you sure you don’t want to put him on the stage?” Georgiou asked a fulminating Turpin curiously. “You could make money out of him with talent like that.”

“I'll give him talent if he drops me in it one more time,” Dick growled.

Mariska however chuckled, her mood lightening at hearing George's low opinion of her rivals. “He’s hardly revealing your darkest secrets, Dick. I know you too well,” she pointed out in amusement. “Now, let’s get a little show together for George. No singing from you, Dick...”

“What’s the matter with my singing?” Turpin protested.

“You are not exactly the most melodious of singers, dear,” Mariska told him wryly. “Nick, how about you?” Swiftnick shook his head in horror, attempting to shrink out of sight. Mariska ruffled his hair. “So shy....” she teased, winking at him.

Dick’s eyes narrowed in suspicion at Swiftnick’s blush. “You can stay with me then,” he decided darkly. “I'm not having you wandering under any inn maid’s skirts....”

“Keeping him out of trouble should keep you away from them too then,” Mariska laughed as she stood up and brushed down her dark red skirts. Dropping a kiss on Dick’s cheek, she made her way across the tap room to speak to Tabitha. Raphael and Georgiou had already gone to join the others and were rearranging the tables and chairs for a bit of room with the help of the eager pub’s customers.

“The players seem to be popular,” Swiftnick commented, drawing Dick’s eyes away from Mariska back to his young partner.

“They behave themselves and they’re friendly,” Dick said quietly. “This Hardwick seems to think his acting ability makes up for the poor reputation of his players.” He looked around the pub, scanning the faces for trouble. “Do you see man Tabitha was talking to?”

Swiftnick shook his head as he reached for the ale pitcher to refill his own tankard and Turpin’s.  “No, I looked he’s not here. I’ll tell you who else isn't here either; Obadiah.”

“Gideon said he was going to the King Harry instead. Apparently he knows the innkeeper there.” Dick glanced at the tankards absently. He tended to keep an eye on what Swiftnick was drinking; more out of habit than anything else. The youth could normally be trusted to avoid spirits and rarely drank too much unless he forget the rules Turpin had laid down when they first started to ride together.

“Doesn’t she look lovely,” Swiftnick murmured dreamily, starting Dick out of his thoughts into looking up. Tabitha was starting to sing, standing tall with her hands clasped neatly at her waist as she started....

“I thought you said she was a know it all....”

“She is. But she’s a pretty know it all....” Swiftnick grinned.

Dick chuckled and settled back in his seat with his ale, feeling safe enough for once to relax and enjoy the performance.

                                                            * * *

“I didn’t get the one about the hedgehog never being bothered....” Swiftnick complained as he and Dick walked back across the meadow with the others. Behind them, Georgiou and Raphael were half carrying Tobias who had started telling ribald jokes after one too many strong ales.

“Good,” said Dick firmly. He thought he’d heard a few dirty jokes in his time, but one or two of Tobias’ were enough to make even him blush.

“Maybe I should ask Tobias,” Swiftnick mused.

“I doubt if he’ll remember it,” Turpin observed dryly, glancing back to check that Mariska and Tabitha were still behind them with Gideon. Gideon had been saying something about a new play he had in mind so Dick had hurriedly dragged Swiftnick on ahead. He knew what the playwright was like once he got started.

Up ahead of them, the flicker of lanterns could be seen, glimmering through the soft flower scented darkness. “Oh good, Obadiah must have gotten back before us,” Mariska said coming up beside them and waving at the light. She companionably slipped her arm through Turpin’s.

“What’s the matter? Gideon boring you?”

“Don’t be mean. He’s only being enthusiastic. Did you two enjoy the show?”

“It was good,” Swiftnick assured her. “I don’t know what Gideon was talking about though...But some people seemed to enjoy it....” He shot a quick look at Turpin.

“Dick can explain it to you then,” Mariska said mildly, waving to Obadiah as he appeared beside the caravans. He didn’t wave back but stomped towards them grimly. “Obadiah? What is it?” she asked, her good mood evaporating as she saw his scowl. 

“Someone’s smashed the locks and searched our caravans,” he said sourly. “Everything’s a mess....”

“See?” Obadiah said sourly as Gideon stared in dismay at the tumbled contents of the caravan they shared. His eyes travelled suspiciously first to Turpin and then Swiftnick. “So, where were you, lad?”

“Me?” Swiftnick protested indignantly.

“Oh don’t be daft. They were with us at the pub,” Mariska scolded, starting to recover from her shock.

“All the time?”

“I’ve known Richard longer than I have you, Obadiah,” she reminded him sharply.

“What about him?” Obadiah jerked a thumb at Swiftnick.

Swiftnick stiffened in anger and Turpin put a restraining hand on his shoulder. “Go check our wagon,” he told him. Swiftnick shot an annoyed look at the highwayman, but turned on his heel and went. Dick turned back to Obadiah. “Nick didn’t do this,” he said flatly. “Neither of us have any reason to do it.”

“How do I know that? You turn up unexpected like....”

“That’s enough,” Mariska warned him in exasperation, turning to Georgiou as he rejoined them. “Well?”

“My wagon’s a mess as well. Someone was looking for something. Yours doesn’t look so bad though. Looks like they gave up...Tab’s having hysterics though. And Raphael's gone to get a bucket of water to chuck over Tobias.”

“Tobias is hysterical?” Dick said in surprise.

“No. Drunk. I thought we might want him awake.”

“What are we going to do?” Gideon said faintly. He had climbed into his caravan and was anxiously examining the contents of the trunk where he kept the plays.

“Find out what’s missing first,” Dick suggested, ignoring the way Obadiah was staring at him.

Mariska nodded. “That’s a good idea. And I’d better calm Tab down.”

“Dick.....” Swiftnick called from the prop wagon as Mariska headed for her caravan. Dick was relieved to get away from Obadiah’s pale stare to see what the youth wanted. It was obvious enough. The young highwayman was waiting by the caravan’s open doors, staring uneasily at the jumble of props and equipment inside.

Turpin gritted his teeth for a moment. “Did you have anything with you, you shouldn’t have?” he whispered.

“No. You?”

“No....” Dick said thoughtfully as he tugged at the door and examined the battered old iron lock that had fastened it.

“You think they were looking for us?” Swiftnick wondered uneasily.

“I doubt it. Check the guns....”

“Obadiah thinks I did it.”

“Well, I don’t,” Dick retorted.

“Because I was with you....” Swiftnick muttered.

Dick laughed. “No, because you wouldn’t have smashed the locks and I’ve taught you to search better than this....Now, make sure they didn’t find the guns while I talk to Mariska.”

“You going to tell her I didn’t do it?” Swiftnick asked anxiously as he climbed into the caravan and started shifting a pile of cloth to find the concealed compartment where they had hidden their flintlocks and saddlebags.

“She knows you know which side your bread’s buttered, lad. I want to find out if she knows what they were looking for.”

                                                            * * *

By the time Dick returned to the caravan half an hour or so later, Swiftnick had given up on attempting to tidy up the mess and gone to bed. Turpin called him softly as he climbed into the wagon, not wanting to get himself shot unexpectedly. Swiftnick watched him over the top of the book he was reading by candlelight as Dick settled on his own straw pallet and stretched before starting to peel out of his jacket.

“Well?” the youth prompted sharply when Turpin turned his attention to his boots without commenting.

“Well what? I thought you’d be asleep...” Dick had been considering asking his partner for help with his boots but he could tell from Swiftnick’s voice that he wasn't in the mood.

“What did Mariska say about me?”