“Absolutely no one was to come to Lord Strange that night, and the two armed men on his door were there to see that Sir William Clopton’s orders were carried out. If Marlowe had been Kit with the Canstick, he would have drifted like candle smoke through the keyhole. If he’d been Boneless, he’d have shifted his shape and slid under the door. As it was, he was Kit Marlowe and he dropped heavy coins into the men’s purses while they studiously looked the other way. Ferdinando Stanley lay like a ...corpse on the high tester bed, bedecked with the brocaded Clopton arms. He who travelled with no servants desperately needed one now. Ned Sledd and Nat Sawyer had stripped the man of his day clothes and wrapped him in a nightshirt tied to the neck. But no one, not even Ned and certainly not Nat had the nerve to spend the night in that pain-wracked room. After all, they were troupers and both of them had a stage to de-rig and musicians to pay off. Gate money had to be returned and the gunpowder carefully moved out of harm’s way.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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