CHAPTER XXIV
THE MAKING OF A PLAYER

ASTER WILL SHAKSPERE was in town!

The thought ran through Nick Attwood’s head
like a half-remembered tune. Once or twice he had all
but sung it instead of the words of his part. Master Will
Shakspere was in town !

Could he but just find Master Shakspere, all his trouble
would be over ; for the husband of his mother’s own cousin
would see justice done him in spite of the master-player
and the bandy-legged man with the ribbon in his ear—of
that he was sure.

But there seemed small chance of its coming about; for
the doors of Gaston Carew’s house were locked and barred
by day and by night, as much to keep Nick in as to keep
thieves out; and all day long, when Carew was away, the
servants went about the lower halls, and Gregory Goole’s
uncanny face peered after him from every shadowy corner ;
and when he went with Carew anywhere, the master-player
watched him like a hawk, while always at his heels he
eould hear the clump, clump, clump of the bandy-legged
man following after him.

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