“Get out, all of you!” shouted Middleton to the others. “Jackals! Get out and let my poor daughter rest in peace!”
Elizabeth walked quickly with her head held high and Smythe hurried to catch up with her. Shakespeare paused to take a torch from one of the servants, then trotted after them. They quickly outdistanced all the others, who slowly made their way back up the path.
“ Elizabeth…” Smythe said.
“I am all right,” she replied, although her voice was strained. “I am more afraid for John. What shall they do to him?”
“I do not think they shall do anything, for the present,” Smythe replied. “Middleton will likely have him locked up somewhere, until he can be delivered to the authorities in London.”
“I would agree,” said Shakespeare. “ ‘Tis likely that he shall turn him over to Sir William, since he is his servant, and let Sir William make proper dispensation of his fate.”
“But John is innocent!” Elizabeth said. “You know he did not do it, Tuck.”
“In truth, Elizabeth, I do not know it for a certainty. And he did admit the dagger was his own. How else should it have gotten there?”
“Because he left it there for her! He was concerned that she might be defenseless in the tomb and so we arranged to leave it hidden there for her in case she should awake and feel frightened, or in the event that robbers should come to steal her jewelry.”
“Then why did he not say so?” Shakespeare asked.
“Because he no longer cares what may become of him!” Elizabeth replied. “He loved Catherine with all his heart! He hated the whole idea of this plan, despised it and said ‘twas much too dangerous. He wanted simply to run away with her, instead. And now he blames himself. You saw him! A part of him died along with her! But you know he did not do this, Tuck! You were there with us!”
“Aye, for a time,” said Smythe. “Because I had followed you, I know when you met him at the vault, but I cannot say when he got there. ‘Tis possible that he had come there earlier, which means that he could have found Catherine when she awoke, and then slain her for some reason that we do not know.”
“You cannot believe that, surely!”
“ Elizabeth, I do not know John Mason. I have never before laid eyes on him until this night. But while I admit ‘tis possible he may have killed her, I do not believe he did.”
“What reasons have you for thinking so?” asked Shakespeare.
“Several,” Smythe replied. “For one thing, I am inclined to believe Elizabeth. While I did not have much speech with Mason, he struck me as a decent sort. I do not think he is a killer. And I have no doubt that he loved Catherine.”
“ ‘Twould not be the first time a love had led to murder,” Shakespeare said.
“Perhaps not,” said Smythe, “but there would have to be some reason for it and there is none here that I can see. The whole plan was designed so that Catherine and he could safely go away together and never be pursued. If his love were so intense and feverish that he might have gone mad if she were to change her mind at the last moment, then I suppose ‘tis possible he might have killed her. Yet, if Catherine were to change her mind, for whatever reason, the time to do so would have been before she took the potion. Otherwise, why take the risk?”
“Why, indeed?” said Shakespeare. “Your reasoning is sound. Well done. And I agree completely.”
“And there is one more thing that makes me doubt his guilt,” said Smythe.
“And what is that?”
“The fact that someone tried to kill me tonight while I was following Elizabeth to the vault.”
“What?” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And you never said a thing about it!”
“ ‘Twas not the time, I thought. And I wanted to see what would occur between you two.”
“What do you mean someone tried to kill you?” Shakespeare asked, with concern. “How?”
“With a crossbow,” Smythe replied. “And whoever shot that bolt damn near put it through my eye.”
“Good Lord!” said Shakespeare.
“Nearly killed!” Elizabeth exclaimed. “And you said nothing!” “There seemed no reason to say anything about it then. I had thought he saw an opportunity to strike and followed me out from the house, for I heard someone running back toward it after the bolt was shot. Now, however, it occurs to me that whoever shot at me may have been coming back to the house from the tomb, instead.”
“Then would I have not seen him on the path?” Elizabeth asked.
“Not if he heard you coming and hid until you had passed.”